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“What gave me away?”

“You stopped listening to me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I rather like watching you drift into another world.”

He listened with me, the melody weaving through the conversations around us.

“There’s a small courtyard in the Village,” he said after a while. “A guitarist plays there most evenings. He’s been coming for years. There are only a handful of tables, and no one advertises it. You find it only if someone takes you the first time.”

“Someone took you?”

“Once. A long time ago. I’ve gone alone ever since.”

“It sounds perfect.”

He held my gaze. “I’d like to show it to you.”

My fingers tightened slightly around the handle of my coffee cup. The small distance across the table felt like something I was aware of with my whole body. “I’d like that very much.”

We lingered over the last of the coffee. Conversation continued easily as we talked about books, cities we wanted to visit, and eventually settled into a comfortable silence. At some point, the restaurant had emptied around us.

“We’ve kept them longer than I intended.”

I glanced at the empty tables. “I hadn’t realized that.”

“Neither had I.”

He reached for the bill before it ever reached the table. A few words were exchanged with the waiter. Alexander rose, crossing to my side before I had the chance to stand.

“Shall we?”

I nodded, and he helped me into my coat with the same care that had marked the beginning of the evening. Together, we stepped out into the cool Manhattan night. Alexander spoke with the driver waiting at the curb before turning back to me.

“Blackwood Hall is only about twenty minutes on foot,” he said. “Would you mind walking?”

“I’d like that.”

He offered me his arm. I took it, resting my hand against the sleeve of his coat.

The town car slipped into the evening traffic as we turned and started our stroll back. The city lights illuminated our way while the sounds of Manhattan moved around us. The silence had changed.

“I enjoyed this evening,” he said after a while.

“So did I.” We kept walking, neither of us in a hurry to fill the silence.

Home came into view at the end of the block, its limestone glowing softly beneath the streetlights. We walked into the building and took the elevator up to my floor. We reached my door and stopped. Neither of us moved. We were standing closer than conversation required. His gaze drifted briefly to the necklace at my collarbone before returning to my face.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you about that.”

Instinctively, my fingers rose to the chain. “My necklace?”

He nodded. “You wear it often.”

I smiled. “It was a gift from my best friend.” The words carried more gratitude than sorrow now. “She passed away a few years ago. It was the last birthday gift she ever gave to me.” I sighed. “If it were up to me, I’d never take it off.”

“She must have been very special.”