Page 85 of Enzo

“But I know I’m not,” I say, wondering why he’s gone all quiet again. I have a feeling it’s me. I’ve done it again, brought chaos into his life. “I promise to remain trapped in here until it’s safe to leave.”

“Trapped? It could be worse.”

“Yes. You’re right. Wrong choice of word.”

“You have to trust me, Molly.”

I swallow. “I do.”

And that’s the truth. I don’t know anyone in New York, and I do trust Enzo, because he’s all I have here.

“It’ll be for a few days,” he reminds me.

I know. I know.

One night I can do. Just about. The others, I’ll have to make myself. I’ve been through worse. At least there’s a lot of space here. We should be able to stay out of one another’s way. Which wouldn’t be the case if we were staying in my apartment.

But even though this place is huge, it still feels too intimate being here with him, under one room. I'm lucky that it's spring break, otherwise I don't know how I'd explain my absence to Miss T.

I wrap my arms around me, feeling goosebumps springing up all over my arms.

“Cold?”

I’m not cold. I’m wearing a long-sleeved knit dress. I have a light waterproof jacket, which I’ve rolled up and put in my bag. But that’s all I have. Well, that and a few days’ worth of underwear.

“I don't have a change of clothes,” I tell him. I don’t relish wearing this same dress for a few more days.

“My assistant is sending over some of my clothes. I could get her to pick some out for you, if that's okay?”

“Uh, sure. That's okay with me.”

“How about we stick to muted colors. Something understated. Something that won’t draw too much attention.”

“Muted colors? Like what?”

“Black, gray and navy?”

“Oh.”

“Sometimes white or cream,” he offers.

I scoff. “You're so adventurous.”

He looks like he’s about to break out into a smile. But he coughs lightly instead.

“Let me make that call now.” He walks away and makes a phone call, presumably to his assistant.

I walk around the apartment, exploring the rooms again, at a leisurely pace. After a while I hear him again.

“No heels.” He walks towards me with the phone to his ear, then hangs up.

“No heels?”

“You said you don't like them.” He slips the phone into his trouser pocket.

I don't like them, and I can't believe he remembered. He really does listen when I talk.

I walk towards the floor to ceiling windows and stare at the view in awe. The city lights glitter like jewels across a sky slowly turning dark.