He grabbed his keys off the counter and walked to the door. “Can I text you later?”
My brain attempted to overanalyze that question immediately. I shut it down.
“Sure,” I said. “But I’m going to be buried in tickets all day.”
“I figured. No rush to respond.”
From the living room, Markie shouted suddenly, “BYE, DOG.”
Liam looked over.
Markie leaned forward on his perch. “GOOD DOG.”
Liam nodded once in solemn acknowledgment. “Bye, Markie.” Then he looked back at me. “Bye, Zoey.”
“Bye.”
The moment the door closed behind him, silence descended on my apartment.
I stood there, holding a mug of coffee and wearing nothing but underwear while my life attempted to reorganize itself around the concept of that man walking out the door.
“DOG,” Markie said thoughtfully.
“Yes,” I muttered.
I stared at the closed door for one more second, then I walked back to my desk and opened my laptop.
Slack exploded again immediately. Exactly what I needed.
Work.
Work was safe.
I wasknee deep in a ticket when my phone buzzed on my desk. I glanced down automatically.
Mom.
I stared at the screen for a moment. The cruise had apparently reached cell service again. Markie leaned over the back of the couch.
“INCOMING PROBLEM.”
Apparently, he could sense my emotional state.
“Accurate,” I muttered before I answered, “Hi, Mom.”
Her voice arrived at full volume. “Zoey! Finally. I’ve been trying to reach you for ages.”
I checked the call log.
One missed call.
“Yes,” I said. “It must have been a very dramatic forty-five minutes.”
“I was worried,” she said immediately. “You never don’t answer your phone.”
There it was. Nothello. Nothow are you. Immediate escalation into concern, which in my mother’s hands usuallymeant I was about to be made responsible for managing the fact that she had feelings.
I rubbed my forehead. “I’m at work.”
