She nods slowly. “And if you get uncomfortable?”
The question catches me off guard.
“I won’t,” I say.
She looks at me for a moment. Then, impulsively, she leans over and kisses my cheek. Barely a brush. Her lips are warm.
“Thank you,” she says. “For taking this seriously. For not making me feel stupid.”
She’s out of the car before I find words.
I watch her disappear into her building. Touch my cheek where her lips were.
The skin still tingles.
Marcus catches my eye in the rearview mirror but says nothing.
“Home,” I say.
But as we pull away, I look back at her window. Third floor. A light flickers on.
I think about the way she laughed. How she noticed every slip I made. And the way she called me strange and meant it as an observation, not an insult.
She’s going to figure me out. Maybe not this week. Maybe not this month. But eventually, she’s going to look at all the pieces that don’t fit and assemble them into the correct answer.
And when she does, she’ll run.
They always do.
But for now, for these four days, I get to pretend. To stand beside a woman who makes me feel something I thought had calcified decades ago.
Marcus turns onto the Pacific Coast Highway. The ocean glitters to our left, dark and endless.
Four days. That’s all this is. A performance. A transaction.
I almost believe it.
CHAPTER 5
POPPY
The moment I’m through my door, I text Sage.
ME: I need you to come over immediately
ME: Bring wine
ME: Actually I have wine just bring yourself
ME: EMERGENCY
Three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again.
SAGE: It’s 11pm on a Thursday
ME: I KNOW
SAGE: I’m in my pajamas
