Page 43 of Take a Hike


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Raven heldtwo pairs of earrings up to the side of her face and asked, “Which one?”

“I like the smaller hoops,” Gwen said over video call. “But let’s back up. You went through that explanation way too quickly. What do you mean you bamboozled some rich guy?”

“The money rightfully belongs to us, first of all,” Raven said, searching her suitcase for a particular purse. “Secondly, I didn’tbamboozlehim. I told some half-truths—my mom did date a rich guy once, actually. Not filthy rich, but he drove a Lexus and bought Neil Young’s guitar pick from an online auction.”

Unless Mr. Crawley decided to hire some private investigator that cost more than the invoices he’d paid, Raven couldn’t see how he’d find out.

“And you’re missing the bigger point here,” Raven said to her friend. “The team is starting to sort of accept me.”

The morning after obtaining the Crawley’s invoice payments, everyone at Mountaintop had been more hype than Raven had expected.

“I’ll be honest, I didn’t think you could do it, but credit where credit is due,” Halo said, then they all agreed on a day they’d get drinks after work.

It felt like a milestone.

“You’re telling me even that Silas guy is cool with you?” Gwen asked.

“I’m still going after something he wants, but yeah, we’re cordial now.”

For the duration they were in Mr. Crawley’s office, they’d felt like partners. He’d trusted her or at least given her enough leeway to take a big swing.

“I’m glad everything seems to be smoothing out for you over there,” her friend said. “I was worried I’d have to come and rescue you from that place.”

After ending the call with her best friend and settling on a pair of heels, Raven drove to the Blue Dog Bar. There wasn’t much to it. It looked like a run-down barn from the outside. Upon entering the packed establishment, she noticed everyone was wearing either denim, flannel, or a combination of both. She stuck out, but no one paid her more than a glance or two as she traversed the bar.

She spotted the team at the back, and as she approached, they all began drumming the table to mimic the thunderous sound of applause.

“Here comes the dragon slayer!” Bodie shouted, and Raven received the attention with a curtsy before slipping onto the stool across from Silas.

Her mouth grew dry when she met his gaze. Under the bar’s dim lights, he looked like a portrait painted with confident strokes.

“A deal’s a deal,” Halo said. “What drink can I get you?”

“My usual is a New York Sour,” Raven said.

“Okay, hun, this is a glorified dive bar,” Halo explained. “The fanciest drink they’ll have is maybe the Silas Reynolds.”

Raven turned to look at Silas. “You have a drink named after you?”

He seemed embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

“Why?” she asked.

“He’s a town hero. Made it to the 2012 Olympics and brought home the silver in archery,” Halo said like it was a well-established fact and not brand-new information to Raven.

“What? Why is this the first time I’m hearing about this?” Raven asked, looking at everyone at the table.

“It’s quite literally public information,” Silas said.

“No, but why isn’t it blazoned on Mountaintop’s website?” Raven asked.

“Because it’s unnecessary,” he said.

Raven hadn’t pegged him as overly humble, but maybe he’d somehow lost sight of how amazing his accomplishment was.

“I’m definitely going to get the Silas Reynolds,” she told Halo.

“You might not like it,” Silas said. “I don’t.”