Chương 11
“You are staying out of it now, right?”
“Yes.”
“Actually staying out?”
“Yes.”
“Not Eve staying out, where you secretly reorganize evidence into color-coded folders?”
“I do not color-code evidence.”
“You color-code groceries.”
“That was one time.”
“You made green mean produce.”
“It was logical.”
Nora sighed.
“Come home.”
“My flight is tomorrow.”
“Move it.”
“I’m not running away because work is uncomfortable.”
“You’re not running away.”
Nora’s voice softened.
“You’ve been dumped, threatened by your boss, removed from your account, and accidentally wandered into what sounds like fraud-adjacent corporate nonsense.”
“Fraud-adjacent is not a legal term.”
“It should be.”
Eve rested her forehead against the cold window.
“I don’t want to go back to the apartment yet.”
There was a pause.
Nora understood that part without explanation.
“Okay.”
Eve closed her eyes.
“I keep picturing it empty.”
“It won’t be empty.”
“His stuff will be gone.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“It might feel like it.”
Nora did not offer a comforting sentence.
She rarely did when comfort would sound fake.
Instead she said, “You still have that ugly yellow chair.”
“It is mustard.”
“It is the color of old school buses.”
“You have no taste.”
“I have eyes.”
Eve laughed.
The laugh helped.
After the call, she showered and put on jeans instead of work clothes.
The simple decision felt rebellious.
At noon, she walked three blocks through the snow to a small café because staying in the hotel had begun to feel like waiting for a verdict.
The café was crowded with people escaping delayed commutes.
Wet coats steamed near the radiator.
A toddler dropped a spoon and screamed as though democracy had failed.
Eve ordered coffee and a grilled cheese sandwich.
She sat near the window and opened a paperback she had brought to Boston months ago and never finished.
She read the same paragraph four times.
A shadow fell across the table.
“Is this seat taken?”
Eve looked up.
Adrian stood there in a dark coat dusted with snow.
For one second, she simply stared.
Then irritation arrived before anything more dangerous could.
“Are you following me?”
“No.”
“That was too fast.”
“I’m not.”
“Then this is a very strange coincidence.”
“It is.”
She narrowed her eyes.
Adrian glanced toward the counter.
“I own the building.”
Eve stared at him.
“That is somehow worse.”
“It probably is.”
He gestured to the empty chair.
“May I?”
She considered saying no.
Then the toddler screamed again and threw a napkin.
Eve pointed at the chair.
“Fine.”
Adrian sat.
No security appeared beside him, though Eve spotted Daniel near the entrance pretending to examine a pastry display with the concentration of a museum curator.
She looked back at Adrian.
“You sent me dinner.”
“You ate it.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
“No.”
“Why?”
He took off his gloves one finger at a time.
“You looked like someone who would forget.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It’s the one I have.”
Eve studied him.
His face looked more tired than yesterday.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“That sounds territorial.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.”
She leaned closer.
“Your legal department called me this morning.”
“I know.”
“Of course you know.”
“I authorized the review.”
“That is exactly why sitting with me in public is a bad idea.”
Adrian glanced around the café.
“Nobody here knows who you are.”
“They know who you are.”
“Some do.”
A college-aged man near the counter had already recognized him and was pretending not to take a picture.
Eve nodded toward the phone.
“Some.”
Adrian looked.
The young man immediately dropped the phone and became fascinated by a muffin.
Adrian turned back.
“You’re right.”
The easy admission disarmed her.
He stood.
Eve blinked.
“You’re leaving?”
“You said I shouldn’t be here.”
“I did.”
“So I’m leaving.”
Something in her chest tightened unexpectedly.
“That was very literal.”
He pulled on one glove.
“You sounded serious.”
“I was.”
He put on the other.
“Then I’ll see you later.”
Eve frowned.
“Why would you see me later?”
Adrian’s hand stopped.
A flicker of something crossed his face.
“Bad wording.”
He corrected himself.
“I hope I see you later.”
That was worse.
Or better.
Eve could not decide.
He turned away.
“Adrian.”
He looked back.
She hated herself slightly for stopping him.
“Sit down.”
He did.
Eve folded her arms.
“Five minutes.”
“Understood.”
“And we do not talk about the investigation.”
“Agreed.”
“And you don’t send me food afterward.”
“That seems unrelated.”
“It’s part of the five-minute agreement.”
He considered it.
“Fine.”
She took a sip of coffee.
“So what do billionaires discuss when they’re legally prohibited from discussing the interesting thing?”
“I’m not legally prohibited.”
“That sentence is why people hate billionaires.”
The corner of his mouth moved.
“What are you reading?”
Eve held up the paperback.
He read the cover.
“You’re sixty pages in.”
“Observant.”
“You’ve been sixty pages in since the airport.”
She stared at him.
“You saw the book?”
“It was sticking out of your bag.”
“That is an unsettling memory.”
“I remember objects.”
“People?”
His expression changed slightly.
“Sometimes.”
Eve looked down at the table.
There was something in the answer she did not want to touch.
“So why were you at JFK?”
“Meeting.”
“In New York?”
“Yes.”
“Very informative.”
“You said five minutes.”
“Right, efficiency.”
Adrian looked toward the window.
Snow slid in wet clumps from the awning.
“My mother lives in Connecticut.”
Eve waited.
He continued.
“She had surgery.”
The words were quiet.
“Is she okay?”
“She will be.”
“That doesn’t sound like yes.”
“It’s complicated.”
Eve let the silence sit.
A server carried three bowls of soup past them.
Adrian watched the steam rise.
“My sister was supposed to go with her to the hospital.”
“Supposed to?”
“She didn’t.”
Eve did not ask why.
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“She died eight years ago.”
Eve’s hand stopped around her coffee cup.
“I’m sorry.”
He nodded.
May you like
“She was the person who told me I was bad at hugging.”
The airport came back to Eve all at once.
