“I hope seeing you here means we can eventually be friends.”
I had prepared a careful answer about distance and time. What escaped was, “Why?”
Her smile faltered. “We were important to each other.”
“We were.” The past tense did the work. I set down my glass. “I’m going to get some air.”
We were already outside, but neither of them pointed that out. I walked toward the far side of the rooftop. Tessa caught up with me beside a row of planters.
“I can push her into the decorative fountain downstairs,” she said.
“There are cameras.”
“You checked?”
“It’s a hotel.”
“That isn’t a no.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re gripping your glass like it owes you money.”
I loosened my fingers. Below us, Lake City spread in glittering rectangles. Cars moved through the streets, their headlights small and orderly from this height. On a building across the avenue, a digital billboard changed from an advertisement for luxury apartments to a photograph of runners crossing a finish line. LAKE CITY MARATHON, the billboard announced. FIND OUT HOW FAR YOU CAN GO. The image stayed for eight seconds before disappearing into an advertisement for insurance.
“Amy,” Tessa said gently.
“I’m fine.”
“Your left eye is twitching.”
“It does that.”
“It does that when you’re planning a murder.”
“I have never planned a murder.”
“Because you’d need a permit.”
Footsteps approached. I knew who it was before Evelyn spoke.
“Can we have a minute?”
Tessa looked at me. I nodded. She pointed two fingers at Evelyn, then at her own eyes, communicating that she was watching her. The gesture might have been more effective if she had not still been holding two champagne glasses. When she moved away, Evelyn joined me at the railing.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“For which part?”
“The awkwardness. Vanessa was nervous about meeting you.”
“She already met me.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I usually did. That was part of the problem.”
Evelyn rested her hands on the railing. The diamond caught the light.
