Astoria leaned back in her chair, studying Miller across the low table. The amber lighting caught the golden threads in her hair and softened the tension around her jaw. She looked beautiful and scared and determined, and Astoria wanted to touch her so badly her hand ached with it.
“I should want that too,” Astoria whispered. “I should be thinking about the case, about the scandal if this gets out, about all the ways this could blow up in both of our faces. And Iamthinking about those things. I’ve been thinking about nothing else for three weeks.”
“And?”
“And I’m still here too.”
Something shifted in Miller’s expression. “So, where does that leave us?”
Astoria considered the question. The honest answer was that she didn’t know. She’d never been in this position before, had never wanted someone like this in longer than she could remember, maybe ever. The safe answer was to suggest they take their time, think it through, and make a rational decision like the intelligent adults they supposedly were.
She was tired of playing it safe. Her entire life, she’d played it safe and denied herself of anything that felt too much likewanting. Valerie’s familiar voice played in her head, telling her she was incapable of real desire and utterly passionless.
She didn’t feel devoid of passion right now. She felt like she was burning from the inside out.
“I think,” Astoria said slowly, “that we’ve already decided. We’re just not saying it out loud yet.”
Miller’s breath caught, a small sound that was barely audible over the ambient noise of the bar. “What have we decided?”
“That we’re not walking away and we’re going to do this, whateverthisis, even though we know all the reasons we shouldn’t.” Astoria maintained eye contact. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
Miller didn’t say anything. Instead, she reached across the table and laid her hand over Astoria’s. Her palm was warm, but her fingers were slightly cool from the wine glass. The touch sent a current up Astoria’s arm and into her chest.
“You’re not wrong,” Miller said softly.
They sat like that for a moment, their hands intertwined on the table between their untouched drinks, the weight of the decision settling around them like a held breath. Astoria could feel her pulse in her throat and the slight tremor in Miller’s fingers that said she wasn’t nearly as calm as she looked.
“So,” Miller said. “Now what…?”
Astoria turned her hand over, lacing their fingers together. Miller’s breath hitched again, and Astoria filed that away, too, to revisit later when she had time to think about what any of this meant.
Right now, she didn’t want to think. She wanted to act.
“I have a suggestion,” Astoria said. “But you should know what you’re agreeing to before I make it.”
“I know what I’m agreeing to.”
“Do you?”
Miller’s grip tightened on her hand. “I’m agreeing to something that could ruin both of us and will definitelycomplicate everything. Something that every rational part of my brain is screaming at me to walk away from.” Her voice dropped. “And I’m agreeing anyway because the thought of walking out that door and going back to pretending I don’t want you is worse than any of the rest of it.”
Astoria felt the words land, felt them crack something open in her chest that she’d spent years keeping sealed shut. Miller was looking at her like she was someone worth risking everything for. No one had ever looked at her like that. Not even close.
“Okay,” Astoria said. “Then let’s get out of here.”
She signaled for the check, and the server brought it, then walked away without looking at her. In any other bar, this would cost them the tip, but in a place like The Meridian where staff was paid for their discretion, it earned them extra.
Astoria laid her card down without looking at the total. The server returned a moment later and Astoria signed the slip of paper, and just like that, they were out of reasons to stay at the table.
Miller watched her tuck the card back into her wallet. “So, what’s next?”
“Now we decide if we’re really doing this.”
“I thought we already decided that.”
“We decided we weren’t walking away.” Astoria met her eyes. “This is the part where we walk somewhere else.”
Miller held her gaze for a long moment, then she picked up her purse and stood. They crossed the lobby together toward the front desk, close enough that Astoria could smell Miller's perfume—something light and floral, nothing like the sharp, expensive scents Valerie had favored. The lobby was quiet at this hour, just a few business travelers checking in, no one who would remember two women requesting a room.
