Chapter 2
Graham didn't grab. His tattooed hand stayed palm-up two beats too long, then curled shut. He picked up gold band from black marble. Not tossed. Placed. Now retrieved. Slid band into pocket of dark jeans. Gold watch caught candle glow as he moved.
He looked at me once. Not at Landon. Not at Maya. At my left hand still pressed to chest. Diamond ring hid under my fingers, teardrop necklace cold against skin. He didn't say take it off again. He didn't need to. Silence did work.
He stood. Booth leather creaked. He turned and walked toward exit. No touch. No scene. Just left space empty where he'd leaned.
My breath came back. Shallow. I heard nightclub thump, glasses clinking somewhere behind chandeliers. Landon still stared down at whiskey tumbler. Maya stared down at her lap. Neither moved until Graham passed velvet rope by host stand.
Maya leaned across marble. Her burgundy satin rustled. She touched my wrist, light, quick. Whispered close, voice low enough Landon wouldn't catch.
"You go," she breathed. "I cover. Landon pays check. Go before he makes it worse outside."
I nodded. Couldn't speak. My glitter clutch sat by champagne flute, untouched. I grabbed it. Fingers shook. Didn't look at Landon. Couldn't. He was coworker, not affair, but Graham's eyes had made us look guilty anyway. Maya squeezed my wrist once, then let go.
I slid from booth. Sequins scraped vinyl. My knees felt watery. Walked past Landon and Maya, past blurred crowd, toward doors Graham had used. Warm air hit as I pushed through. Then cold wet outside.
Rain fell steady on Central Avenue. Neon signs bled across wet pavement — pink, blue, gold. Warm rain, Florida kind, slicked everything. Air smelled like wet concrete, fried oil from late kitchens, faint perfume from doorway. Cars hissed past.
Graham waited by my car. Not his truck. My car. Silver sedan parked three spots down under flickering streetlamp. He stood on sidewalk side, hands in pockets now. Didn't lean on car. Didn't touch door handle. Just waited, face turned toward street, jaw tight.
I stopped six feet away. Rain spotted my dress, dark sequins beading water. My clutch dampened. My left hand still clutched chest, ring hidden.
"You drove," he said. Flat. Not question.
I nodded. Then remembered he wanted words. "Yeah."
He looked at car, then at me. Rain tapped his shoulders, darkened his shirt.
"You said girls night," he said. Quiet. No yell. Worse quiet.
I swallowed. "Maya was here. Landon... Landon works with us. He stopped by."
Graham didn't answer. Stared at my hand. At diamond grandmother's ring he said was family. At closed car door between us. Silence stretched. Cars passed, tires spraying.
He pulled gold band from pocket. Turned it once between fingers. Didn't put it on. Didn't offer. Just held it, then pocketed again.
"Keys," he said.
I clutched clutch tighter. Keys inside. Thought about who drives home, who controls next move. Rain kept falling, neon smeared on wet hood.
"I'm parked here too," he said. "Behind diner lot. Walked over."
May you like
I understood. He'd followed. He'd known where I'd parked, waited by correct car without asking. Surveillance settled cold in stomach.
I didn't unlock doors yet. He didn't reach for them. We stood separated by closed door, rain coming down, nightclub door behind us still shut with Maya and Landon inside. My ring stayed on finger. His band stayed in pocket. Nothing resolved. Just moved outside where street could see.
