Page 48 of Spin Control

WES GRANT

i saw the news that great white sharks have been spotted near cape cod. i need to know if that was your doing and if your brother-in-law is now shark food.

My mouth twitches, but I refuse to let myself smile.

WES GRANT

i’ll happily accept any punishment you deem necessary for the impertinence of that last message

This time, I can’t hold the smile back.

I appreciate your confidence in my inter-species communications skills. Todd is still on land. For now.

Jane snaps photos of her kids in their incredibly preppy outfits as they use little yellow and blue pails to collect sand and shells. Todd decided his time was better spent posting on LinkedIn or plotting the takeover of Mars or whatever, so he said he’d come by when he was needed for photos. God forbid he spend time with his family and help his wife. If I weren’t here, Jane would be handling three kids, her camera, a tripod, and a humongous beach bag, all on her own.

Maybe I should figure out how to communicate with the sharks.

My phone buzzes again.

WES GRANT

but seriously, how are you doing

Fine.

WES GRANT

prove it

A disbelieving laugh comes out of my mouth. Does he think we’re 12 instead of in our thirties? Further, does he really think he can tell me what to do?

“Lizzy!” Jane calls from where she’s set up. “Can you bring me the bag?”

I dutifully trudge through the sand, holding the bag open as Jane rifles through it. “Time to reapply,” she says, holding up a massive bottle of sunscreen. “Todd and Ellie never burn, but the rest of us do.”

After she’s slathered her kids and applied a very fancy French brand on her own face, my phone buzzes again. I ignore it, but the buzzing continues. So it’s a call, not a message. And calls mean crises.

I hurry to fish my phone out of my pocket, but it isn’t David or Baz or Arjun—it’s Wes Grant. Again. And he’s video calling me.

“Lizzy!” Jane shrieks. “Oh my God, answer it!”

It’s only because I love my sister very, very much that I do.

“I can’t believe you actually answered,” Wes says, a look of astonishment on his unfairly handsome face as it fills the screen. He’s wearing a light blue T-shirt that makes his olive skin nearly glow, and he has an actual beard rather than artfully curated stubble. He must not have shaved since D.C.

I turn the phone around so he can see Jane. “My sister wants to talk to you.”

“Oh wow!” Wes says, unleashing his megawatt smile. “I didn’t expect a two-for-one Jacobs sister special.”

Jane laughs breezily, her whole face lighting up. “I guess it’s your lucky day!”

“I’ll say! How are you enjoying Cape Cod?”

Jane and Wes proceed to have an entire conversation about the beaches near Hyannis and the best place for lobster rolls while my nieces and nephew build a lopsided sandcastle. I’m about to stop Eddie from eating sand when Todd’s voice cuts through the conversation. “Jane, why are the kids covered in sand?”

Because Todd would show up on a beach in loafers and a sweater tied around his shoulders, asking why his children aren’t pristine.

“Honey!” Jane calls, motioning her husband over. “You won’t believe who I’m talking to!”