“No. I’ll just wander.” I grabbed my tote and walked out before he could marshal another argument. Behind me, he hesitated, still rattled by the lipstick stains, probably still replaying whatever heat he and Tracy stirred up last night.

The elevator doors closed, and my phone pinged. A text–of course–from Ms. Darwin herself.

Tracy: [Mr. Holcomb didn’t throw up last night, did he? Sorry, I couldn’t stop him. Two new deals in the bag, he was over the moon. I’ll make sure he drinks less next time.]

My stomach rolled at her play. Silence would only let her think she’d hurt me, so I tapped back.

[So thoughtful, Tracy. Next time, stamp the lipstick on his chest. That way, even without a heads–up, I’ll know exactly how much fun you two had.]

Message sent. No reply. Was she rattled… or just busy savoring her triumph? Hard to say, and I honestly didn’t care.

I spent the late morning drifting through the luxury boutiques, snagging a silk scarf for Mom, a leather wallet for Dad, and a DSLR camera my kid brother had been begging for.

ducked into a sun–splashed café that overlooked the indoor concourse. The sleepy, after–lunch sunlight felt like a weighted blanket

glanced up. Outside the window stood the same kid who’d staggered into me in

and baggy jeans, tall and fresh–faced enough to make a

huh?” he said as he slid

laughed. Two run–ins in forty–eight hours. Even Romeo and Juliet had to

chin on his

Just doing

too. Mind if I get you something? Coffee?

it, but I was just about to head out for

bounced up to the counter, borrowed a pen and a slip of paper, and dropped

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