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“May?” her mother called. “Dan wants to speak to you.” She held up Matt’s cell phone.
May’s eyes found Ben. He was wearing the same aloof, uninterested expression he’d had that first afternoon at Pulvermacher’s, when she’d asked him his name at the bar and he’d tried to brush her off.
Not the kind of guy a woman wants to pin her hopes and dreams on.
Fear bloomed in the pit of her stomach.
Her mother pushed the phone into her hand. “Take it somewhere else,” she whispered. “Somewhere private.”
May pressed it to her ear.
“Hello?”
The vast hall swallowed her voice, and Ben watched her with eyes that said I don’t even know you.
I can’t trust you.
She’d forgotten that wary look. The man she’d met that day—the feral creature she’d shared tacos with—that wasn’t who he’d been this past week. She hadn’t realized that Ben had lost so much of his armor until he put it back on.
You waited too long. You had a chance, and you missed it.
Her mother shoved at her shoulder. “Take it in the corridor.”
“Hi,” Dan said.
May let herself be pushed. Out of the room. Away from Ben’s accusing eyes, her sister’s anger, Matt’s bewildered posture in the doorway. Her mother closed the propped-open door to the reception area so that May was alone with the water fountain and the oil portrait of a woman in pearls.
Alone with her cowardice. And Dan.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” Dan said again, and then he chuckled, embarrassed.
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“Oh. You’re not coming?”
/> “I … no. I can’t leave town. The GM basically ordered me to stay put. I feel bad, though. I want to see you.”
“Don’t feel bad. We broke up.”
“You broke up with me, May. I didn’t break up with you.”
It actually only takes one person.
Cold air blasted onto her shins from a vent, and cold shame made her wrap her arms around herself. She pushed her way into the women’s bathroom, seeking enclosure. Warmth.
“You played a good game on Thursday.”
He made a noise, blowing air out through his nose. “Nah. I didn’t have my head in it.”
“Sorry.”
“S’okay. It’s my fault, May. I know I already told you I’m sorry about the charity lunch thing, but maybe I didn’t tell you right. I botched that proposal, so as far as I’m concerned, it’s all on me, what happened. But I don’t care about what you did and all the stuff people are saying about you and me. I’m not sure what else you need me to say, but just tell me, and I’ll say it.”
“There isn’t anything you can say.”
