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“Oh, no. I can’t, not tonight,” she said.

“Are you blushing?” Carmen asked. She lifted her glasses and squinted across to her couch, which was very comfortable. “Is she, Kat?”

“Come with me,” Vera snapped, getting up and offering her hand. “We’ll get those earrings.”

On the elevator trip down, she wouldn’t tell me anything more about her plans but she did say that Carmen needed to mind her own business. “Everybody in this building has secrets.”

“What about the man who used to live in my apartment? Or the people who lived in 2C above me? Was there anything weird about them?”

“2C?” She thought about it. “Was that the apartment with the crocodiles?”

“No, that was the third floor,” I reminded her. “I think they were alligators.”

“Right, right. 2C…” She thought. “No, I don’t know much about them. Nice couple and they retired and went to Arizona to be closer to their daughter. Then your boyfriend moved in, and now he’s going, too. I’ve never seen so much turnover in the Milaflores Building. Usually, people stay here forever. Until they die,” she explained.

“That’s what I plan for myself.” I pushed open the outer elevator door and let her go first.

“Why would you do that?” she asked over her shoulder.

“You were just saying how much people love this building and don’t want to go. Well, that’s how I feel. I don’t want to leave it. And by the way, Oliver isn’t my boyfriend. We’re neighbors who exercise together.”

“I thought we were planning your outfit so that he could introduce you to his friends. You were talking about going to his dinner party, weren’t you?” She jiggled her key in her front door and got it to turn.

“Yes, I was talking about his—how did you know that he was having people over?”

“Penelope must have told me. Mrs. McGlothen,” she called, and came back out of her bedroom. “If you want more skinny on any of the former residents, ask her. But why do you want to know?”

“Curiosity. That’s all, simple curiosity.” I carefully put on the earrings and she admired them. “I’ll give these back to you after tomorrow night.”

“Come tell me everything about how it went. By the way, do you have something to bring for the host?”

That was what the party store on the corner was for. They carried the wine that Carmen liked best and I went there next to get a bottle. That night, I checked the outfit again, practiced my makeup, and tried a new thing with my hair. I wasn’t his girlfriend, not by any stretch, and I was fully aware of that. But I wanted to make a good impression because—because everyone wanted to make a good impression! I just did.

It might have been my imagination, but the music sounded louder that night as I did the dishes. “I will understand, always,” I sang along quietly. Was my voice really that terrible? I wondered if Oliver could also sing. He was so musical that it seemed like he might have been able to. “Not for just a day, not for just a year,” I murmured, then switched to humming because I still couldn’t hear everything clearly. Some parts were still too quiet.

The next day started off with a solo run, since he had an early meeting. I listened to a podcast about the mysterious death of Charles Francis Hall on the Polaris expedition of 1871, but my mind wasn’t fully on it. I wondered what Oliver’s friends would be like and I also wondered if they would have more information about Lexi, his ex-wife—

Well, that wasn’t very nice of me. I was curious but was I going to interview everyone at this dinner party, secretly recording them with my phone?

I considered.

No! No, I wasn’t going to do that. First of all, I wasn’t sure if that type of recording was even legal in Michigan, and second, it just wasn’t a polite way to behave. Also, if his own grandfather didn’t know anything, then how would the friends with whom Oliver hadn’t been close in years?

And why was I so curious about this woman? I had looked her up, using the information I had (and that had taken a while because she didn’t use “Lexi” professionally). I had been correct when I’d guessed earlier that she was beautiful. She was as good-looking Oliver, blonde like him (but lighter), and no, she didn’t have the same beautiful eyes. Hers were very nice, though, and it seemed like she was also highly educated and successful. Her social media accounts were all private and she didn’t show up much in anyone else’s, except when she was featured in a post from her new company in Toledo as an exciting new hire. That listed all her accomplishments, which were many.

At least I had cute earrings. I looked in the mirror as I got ready, putting the final touches on my hair and makeup. At least I had cute earrings! Maybe I was living off my family’s good fortune, I had recently lost a client, and my clothes were all brown, but Vera had good taste in jewelry. I left my apartment and only then did I realize that I’d been focusing so much on my clothes that I’d forgotten something else, something important.

I sucked in social situations. I had never been able to make friends, not even acquaintances. How was tonight going to go for me?

At least I had nice earrings on. I walked up one flight to Oliver’s apartment and found the door partially ajar. “Kat,” he said, smiling as I walked inside. I got introduced to several of his old friends, guys he had rowed with and their partners. There was one wife, one girlfriend, and one husband. Everyone there was nice and they seemed interested in me.

I didn’t have a whole lot to say. “I live downstairs,” I explained when they tried to get information about why I was here on what seemed to be a couples’ night. Or maybe, it was just that the people he knew were coupled-up, and it made sense for them to come in pairs.

Anyway, they were pleasant. I had a cocktail which tasted strong, but I wasn’t much of a drinker. That was ok; I wasn’t driving, just walking back downstairs, so I didn’t need to worry that the legal limit in Michigan was 0.08%. I pointed that out and one of the women, Mary (she did look a little contrary so it was easy to remember), put down her glass.

My driving did come up. “Oliver told us that you’re taking lessons from his grandfather,” one guy mentioned. Due to meeting so many people in my youth, I had gotten good at keeping track of names (despite the cocktail). So I knew that he was Doyle, which was easy to remember because he seemed like a happy person. Doyle Ball had invented the smiley face logo.

“I am,” I agreed. Was I supposed to say something else? They seemed to be waiting for more. “I am,” I repeated. “I drive with him a few times a week.”