Hadley was looking between us like a woman watching a tennis match. I ignored her.
I sat down next to her on the couch—in the spot Hadley had just left—without being asked. I set my drink on the low table in front of us. I leaned back, one ankle on the opposite knee, and looked at her for another beat before I said the next thing.
“Though for what it’s worth,” I said, “you were right about the moat.”
I watched what that did to her face. She was good at managing her face—I’d seen that this morning. But she wasn’t good enough to manage it now. Something passed across it that she hadn’t meant to show me. Relief, maybe. Or vindication. Or the recognition that the CEO of her company had spent the day thinking about her work the way she’d spent the day hoping someone would.
She recovered. No surprise.
“Thank you,” she said.
“You don’t have to thank me. You were right.”
Hadley stood up. “I’m going to get another drink.” Her tone was carefully neutral. “Joss, do you want anything?”
“I’m good.”
“I’ll be back,” Hadley said.
She looked at me as she said it, and I returned the look without giving her anything. She crossed the rooftop without looking back. She took her time.
When she was out of earshot, Joss exhaled.
I watched her gather herself. She picked up her drink, took a sip, set it down. She glanced at where her shoes had ended up next to the couch and let her feet stay tucked.
“So,” she said.
“So.”
She tilted her head a fraction. “You come here often?”
“I do, actually.”
“That was supposed to be a joke.”
“I know. But I do come here often.”
She made a small noise that was almost a laugh. Then she looked at me over the rim of her glass.
“Beckett’s a friend,” I said. “He bought this building a few weeks ago. We’ve been coming up here on Fridays since.”
“Beckett.”
“My business partner.”
I watched her consider that. She didn’t ask which Beckett. She didn’t need to. Beckett Welch was the other half of Myrror, and his name was on as many press releases as mine. She’d known who he was the second I’d said it.
“Hadley’s my roommate,” she said.
“I gathered.”
“I’ve lived here for fourteen months.”
“And you’ve never seen me up here.”
“I have not.”
“I’m usually here on Fridays.”
