“I’m not good at this,” he said.“Three apartments.Two cities.Every relationship I’ve had ended because I couldn’t let anyone past the operational parameters.”
“Ronan told me.”
“Of course he did.”
“He also told me you’d try to talk yourself out of it by listing all the reasons you’re bad at being a person.So I’m going to save you the trouble.”She reached over and put her hand on his forearm.His skin was warm from the coffee mug.“I don’t need you to be good at it.I need you to be honest.Can you do that?”
“I can do that.”
“Then we’ll figure the rest out as we go.”
She squeezed his arm and let go.Picked up her coffee.Looked at the inlet, where the heron had caught something and was tipping its head back to swallow.
“I should call Diana,” she said.
“You should.”
“And my mother.”
“Definitely.”
“And Graham wants to meet again this afternoon.He has new material on the sealed protocols.”
“Already saw it.He texted while you were sleeping.”
“You checked your phone.”
“Old habits.”
“Thought you left it in the kitchen on purpose.”
“I did.Then I got up to get water at five and checked it anyway.”
She almost laughed.Almost.The corner of her mouth pulled up, and she shook her head, and the gesture said more than the laugh would have.
She calledDiana from the deck while Caleb went inside to start the day’s work.
“You sound different,” Diana said, without preamble.
“Different how?”
“Less like you’re about to bolt.More like you’ve decided to stay somewhere long enough to unpack.”
“That’s a lot to read into a phone call.”
“I’ve been reading you for ten years.I know what it sounds like when you’ve made a decision.”A pause.“So.Kellerman.Wednesday?”
“Wednesday.I’ll have the draft to you by noon.The billing records are the centerpiece—crisis management hired before the crisis.I’m building the timeline against the Sattler filings.”
“Good.And Harper?”
“What.”
“Are you okay?Actually okay.Not journalist-okay, where you say you’re fine because admitting otherwise would slow down the story.”
Harper looked at the inlet.The heron.The coffee in her hand.The sound of Caleb’s keyboard through the screen door.
“Yeah,” she said.“I think I actually am.”
