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I look at him. “What?”

“Don’t run yourself down. You did that in the theatre. And you did it after you fell too.”

“Well, that was clumsy of me.”

“No, it wasn’t. You tripped in the dark on a slippery curb.”

His mouth opens as if he’s about to say more, but something he must see in my eyes stops him. I’m not sure what it is, but his countenance changes from asking a question to that moment after you’ve received your answer, and I know he’s just learned something about me. I, however, have no idea what it is.

Charlie pulls the car into the alley behind the store, right at the door up to my rooms. But rather than get out, he twists on the seat beside me.

I draw my handbag close to my lap.

Charlie’s gaze drops to it, then raises back to my eyes. I sense the self-protective nature of my death grip on my handbag and will myself to let it go and relax.

He holds up a hand. “I only want to talk.”

“Of course.” My voice is thin and thready, the laugh anemic and high-pitched.

“Gemma,” he says, then waits until I stop looking at everything around us and actually focus on him. “Who told you that you aren’t wonderful? Or that you’re clumsy? Or, as you implied in the theatre, stupid?”

I scrunch my nose because I don’t know where such thoughts began. Perhaps that’s too far back. I shrug. “No one.”

“I’m not as good as you at solving mysteries, not by a long shot, but I am a good observer, and I’ve got something else going for me.” He pauses long enough for me to almost ask “what?” before he continues. “I can sniff out a lie a mile away. That’s one reason I knew you were right about Mr. Lombard. During our interview, he was lying, but with the jewelry uninsured, there was no motive, so I figured he was hiding something that didn’t matter to our investigation.”

He draws close. “And, believe me, this little gift of mine was far more annoying to my brothers and friends than your noting a few inconsistencies during a film could ever be.”

“That’s a serious and intimidating gift, Charlie.”

His eyes cloud. “You’re right. I apologize.”

He hops out of the car to walk around to the passenger door and I’m crushed. I’m crushed that I pushed him away. I’m crushed because I sense he was sharing out of kindness, out of wanting to help me and get to know me better.

He opens the door and I step out. He waits as I walk to my door and unlock it. But I can’t leave like this. I can’t leave him like this.

I spin around. “I was alone growing up, a lot. It’s just how I appeared to myself. Then . . .” I swallow. Be brave. “Then a few friends, not very nice ones, and a few of those poor blokes you mentioned reinforced it. Nothing serious. Just people who’d rather cut you down than lift you up, I guess. One starts to believe it.”

He walks towards me. “I think you’re marvelous, Gemma. But, I suspect, it’s too soon for you to believe me. Words are cheap. They can be painful, but they are also easy to throw about, as you know.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly through his nose. “So I propose you go out with me again next Saturday and let me prove it to you.”

“Yes.” I blurt out the word as promptly as I said it when he asked me out the first time. “I’d like that very much.”

There is something different about this man, and even though he’s right—words can be thrown about cheaply—I believe every one he says.

“Well then.” He smiles something small, warm, and endearing, and in the golden glow of the streetlamp at the corner, his hair has darkened and his eyes appear almost slate rather than the stormy blue of earlier. “May I ask you a question?”

I nod. It’s the only motion I can manage presently.

“May I kiss you good night?”

I nod again and let my eyes drift closed as I lift my face.

I feel him bend close and pause just before he touches my skin. I breathe him in and catch notes of sage and soap and the subtlest hint of something fresher, almost citrusy. His lips press firmly against me. Against my cheek. Right at the corner of my jaw, a hair’s breadth from my earlobe.

My eyes fly open as he pulls away. My mind reels with what I misread. Yet even while all this swirls, I can’t deny it was an amazing kiss.

He smiles down at me, and from the playfulness dancing in his eyes, I can tell he knows exactly what I’m thinking. “When I kiss you, Gemma, really kiss you, I want you to know I mean it and be able to trust that.”

He walks around the car and waits until I push open my door and shut it once more. From inside, I hear him drive away. I don’t move until the world is silent once more.