48

We spend lunch on deck with the rest of the party, eating chicken Caesar salad and drinking wine, relaxing on the padded double loungers on the main deck. Jake’s beside me, leaning toward Daniel’s bed, his strong back covered in a pale gray T-shirt, in the mid-day sun. They’re talking about the New York Giant’s game they recently went to at the MetLife Stadium, while I’m leaning toward the bed with Leila and Richard, engrossed in girl talk and making plans. Leila agrees to take me to the mainland for some girly shopping, and to source a salon to cut my hair.

I catch Jake staring back at me as she picks up strands of my hair, talking about cutting it short; he frowns when she mentions a real short pixie style, but I shrug it off. I wonder what he’s thinking. He seems only half tuned to what Daniel is saying, and more interested in how much of my tawny locks are to be shorn off.

“I think you would suit maybe shoulder length.” L