Chapter 1
The candle between us wouldn't stay still. Its flame tipped every time the air moved, throwing gold across the white tablecloth and the two glasses of red wine neither of us had touched. Beyond the windows the city stacked itself in light, floor-to-ceiling glass showing a whole skyline with one tower lit like a needle against the black, and the chandelier over our round table threw warm light down onto rose petals scattered around a small vase of red roses. It was supposed to look like a Valentine's dinner. It looked like a stage set with two people who'd forgotten their lines. My dress pulled tight across my knees as I sat, red satin catching the candlelight, and Daniel sat opposite me with his tattooed hands clasped on the white cloth, his gold watch catching the light, calm in a way that made my chest hurt because calm was how he did control.
He had been perfect until the elevator doors opened behind me.
My name is Elise and I was thirty-four that night, trying not to ruin my own promotion dinner.
Don't embarrass me, my boss is joining us. That was what I'd said to him in the car on the way up, my voice low while the city rose around us. I hadn't even looked at him when I said it. I'd stared at my own hands in my lap, at the silver of my necklace shaking a little against my skin, because if I looked at his face I'd lose the sentence. He hadn't answered. He'd just parked, adjusted his tie in the rearview, and followed me into the lobby like we were still a couple who went to dinners together. Now the round table was set for three and the chair between us was empty, and the air moved again when someone approached from behind my chair.
I felt him before I saw him. A shift in the light, a shadow crossing the petals. I turned my head sharp to the right and he was there at the edge of our table, my boss holding a huge bouquet of red roses wrapped in black paper with a red ribbon right at chest height. He was exactly as he always was at the office, dark suit and white shirt and dark tie with a white pocket square folded neat, his hair styled with gray at the temples. He smiled the way you smile when you know you're early and you're trying not to make it awkward. Daniel's hands stayed clasped for one second longer, knuckles and ink visible under the chandelier, then he pushed his chair back with a soft scrape on the carpet.
"James," Daniel said. He was already standing. He didn't look at me. He looked straight at my boss and extended his right hand across the corner of the table, the wine glasses and the little vase of roses between them. His voice was even, controlled, almost pleasant. "Good luck, the paperwork is already waiting for you."
The words landed wrong. Not loud, not angry. Just clear, with a small pause after them like he wanted the room to hear. My boss's smile tightened. He shifted the bouquet to his left arm to free his hand, the black wrap crinkling, and still held it high against his chest as he reached out. I watched their hands meet over the white cloth, Daniel's tattooed hand closing around James's, the gold watch sliding down Daniel's wrist. The candle flickered hard and then steadied, and somewhere two tables over a fork hit a plate.
I didn't think about standing. My chair went back all at once, loud against the floor, and the red satin of my dress pulled as I came up to my full height. My hands had been clasped on the table and now they were loose at my sides, and my mouth opened before I had a word ready.
May you like
"Daniel, what paperwork?"
No one answered. Daniel kept holding the handshake, his slight smile still in place, looking at my boss like he was waiting for him to fill in the blank. My boss held the bouquet and the handshake at the same time, his eyes flicking from Daniel to me and back, and the whole restaurant seemed to lean in half an inch, the chandelier light warm over all of us, the city burning silent beyond the glass, the two wine glasses untouched and the smartphone on the edge of the table lit with a notification I hadn't felt vibrate. The moment hung there, three of us standing around a Valentine table set for a promotion dinner, the roses between us like an explanation that explained nothing.
