Sean follows my gaze. Hesitates.
“Oh—uh. It fell,” he says. “Got ripped. I was gonna fix it.”
I nod feeling my throat close. “Okay.”
He kisses my cheek, quick and distracted. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
I just nod feeling suddenly very stupid. Unease slides into my body like an unwelcome virus.
I walk back to my car, summer buzzing all around me—music spilling from open windows, laughter from coffee shops, life happening everywhere except with me.
Finally at work a half hour later, my inbox chimes.
From: Sage
Subject: Lunch Tomorrow
No greeting.
No smiley face.
Just one line.
Newbury Street. Noon. We need to talk.
I stare at the screen, pulse thudding in my ears.
It isn’t a question.
It isn’t an invitation.
It’s a summons.
And suddenly, the best summer of my life doesn’t feel so sunny anymore. I’d better make nice since she was going to be a huge part of my social life now—until Ethan pulls the plug or she does.
Sage is already standing when I get to the table.
“Hi,” she says brightly, leaning in for air kisses on both cheeks like we’re old friends. “How are you, sweetie?”
I blink, caught a little off guard, and smile automatically. “I’m good. Hi.” I’m still feeling guarded. Not knowing which version of Sage will show up today.
She’s taken the liberty of ordering—two margaritas already sweating on the table. Watermelon, judging by the pink salt rim and the little wedge perched on the glass.
“I ordered you a drink,” she says, sliding one toward me. “It’s so hot out.”
I don’t drink on workdays. Ever. But she’s already lifting hers, already taking a long, enthusiastic sip, so I wrap my fingers around the glass and take a polite one of my own.
Sweet. Too sweet.
She’s already halfway through hers.
“So,” she says, settling in like this is brunch with a girlfriend. “Ethan tells me you’re his favorite.”
My eyebrows lift. “Really?”
“Oh yeah,” she says, waving a hand. “He’s always talking about you. How smart you are. How dependable. How you justget it. He says you’re like family.”
She giggles, leaning closer.
