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right styling products in it, it would have looked like one of those cutting-edge magazine cuts that go in about nine directions. But it didn’t have any of those in it, so it traveled in its many directions without any support.
    But none of those things were really striking about Aidan.
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    What was striking was his face. It wasn’t exceptionally handsome. It wasn’t warm and welcoming like Ollie’s. It was just slightly oval, kind of bony and severe, and it looked to her like it required a bit of an effort to keep itself still—like it might do things without his knowledge or consent. His eyes were round, dark green, and extremely bright, almost hard at the center.
    Those eyes didn’t miss a thing. She was sure of it.
    Those eyes were taking in Clio now, and it put her on her guard.
    “So . . .” he said, shifting his focus to her father. “We got the—”
    “We’ll talk about that later,” her dad said quickly.
    “Got the what?” Clio asked.
    “Oh,” her dad said, trying too hard to sound casual. “Just some things for the boat. Your mom told you about the boat, right? Just boat stuff.”
    Now that the introductions were over, the real awkwardness could begin. Julia’s eyes lingered on the spot where the ranch dressing had been. Aidan’s gaze landed on her tattoo.
    The realization was settling in—they were all about to get on a plane and then a boat together. Clio watched as everyone looked around quickly, unsure of what to do next. There were varying levels of familiarity. She and her dad. Her dad and Martin. Her dad and Julia. Her dad was the common deno-minator in all of this, and that was some bad math.
    A waiter came and started setting down plates. Most of them contained pasta or small pizzas. There was one exception. Elsa’s plate was ringed with oysters still in their rough shells. The shells clinked daintily as they were set down.
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    “Eating raw shellfish is an act of insanity,” Aidan said.
    “Especially in an airport .”
    “I guess I’m crazy,” she said with a smile, offering an oyster to him.
    “And I guess I just don’t want neurotoxic poisoning,” he said, putting up his hand against the offending oyster. “I’m weird like that.”
    “I’m still alive.”
    “For now,” Aidan replied easily, his green eyes moving from Elsa to Clio. He raised an eyebrow.
    “Oyster, Clio?” Elsa offered. “Clio looks like an oyster girl.
    Oysters are the food of love.”
    Out of the corner of her eye, Clio saw Julia flash her watch at her dad.
    “Oh,” her father cut in. “We’re actually in kind of a hurry.
    Everybody eat fast.”
    Elsa and Aidan were still looking at Clio and the wobbly, faintly purplish oyster that Elsa was holding up.
    “Take it in one go,” Elsa said. “Drink it back. All of it. Try not to chew it.”
    It seemed to matter a lot to both of her onlookers whether or not she was going to eat that oyster. Impulsively, she reached over and glurped it back. Her instincts kicked in enough to yelp, Chew! But it was too late. The oyster was glooping down her throat. So she started to cough and choke as it slid.
    “Oh . . .” Elsa said lightly. “You’re choking. It’s okay; it happens.”
    She pressed the bottle of warm Coke into Clio’s hand. The soda calmed the reaction a bit and washed the oyster farther 38

    down, where it couldn’t cause any more trouble. Clio quickly wiped at her watering eyes.
    “You all right there?” Aidan asked, leaning back with his arms across his chest.
    Clio nodded. It was too soon to speak. Her voice would have come out very hoarse and gaggy.
    “Warned you,” he said, smirking.
    “But look! She’s alive!” Elsa said, licking her fingers. “Isn’t that amazing , Aidan?”
    “It’s the law of averages. One probably won’t kill you.
    Probably.”
    But he was smiling just a little as he said it. Clio couldn’t tell if she was invited to this quasi-flirt fest or if she was just a prop.
    “I knew you were like me,”