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“They might still be nearby. Just outside. If they’ve lingered, talking, or perhaps they’re waiting for a cab. Shall I check?”
Behind the bar there were strings of plastic cheese lights, beer taps with the names of breweries back home, bottles of whiskey and vodka and gin, and a mirrored wall where she spotted herself among a crowd of strangers.
When she drew in a breath, she saw the hitch in her reflection’s inhale, her red cheeks, her hair a messy cloud.
I don’t know. I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know.
Sooner or later these chains of bad decisions always ran out of momentum. What she was trying to learn was what she was supposed to do next. What May would do next, or Elvira, or even Matt. What was reasonable.
“I’ll just check outside.”
In the mirror, she watched him walk away, a dark head in a dark suit moving toward the steps that led up from the basement to the street, to Greenwich Village, to New York.
They wouldn’t be out there.
There wasn’t anything to do. She couldn’t fix it.
When he returned, his face told her everything she needed to know. He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“Still, I—”
“I shouldn’t have yelled at you. It wasn’t your responsibility. I shouldn’t have made it your job.”
Her voice had gone thin with her throat so tight.
“Come, sit down.” He caught her hand up in his and gave it a gentle tug toward the passage where they’d been hiding.
Allie let him lead her there, let him clear off the chair and sit her down, let him press her drink into her hand and hunker on one knee beside her like a suitor about to propose.
“I can’t believe I lost her,” she said.
“You can find her again.”
“No, I can’t, that’s the whole thing. I only knew from reading her email that she’d be here tonight. I don’t know anything else—not where they went, not how to find them.”
Winston cleared his throat. “I might be able to help with that.”
“That’s sweet, but there’s just nothing. There’s like, what, eight million people in this city, and they could literally be anywhere, and anyway it’s late, and I have no plan. I have my sister, but I didn’t tell her I’m here, it’s way too late to call now, I’ll have to figure out how—”
He grabbed her hand. “Allie, listen. I know something I haven’t told you. I know who he is.”
“Who who is?”
“The man your mother’s with. I know who he is.”
“I know who he is, too,
he’s Justin Olejniczak, but it doesn’t help, because—Ow!” He’d squeezed her hand too hard. She snatched it away. “What’s your deal?”
Behind his face he’d gone sharper, harder. “Who told you that name?”
“My dad, asshole.”
“Your dad knows the name of the man your mom is cheating with?”
“I don’t know what he knows. He might. I never asked him.”
