“Hi,” she said. She took a step into the room, looked around again, then brushed her hair back behind her ear as Rob stood there, speechless. “This can only end horribly. For me that doesn’t matter much; I’m in a pretty unpleasant situation as it is. But for you…” She let the implications hang there in the three feet that separated them.
Rob closed the distance between them. He touched her shoulder, which was bare, and pale from three years hidden from the sun. He slid his palm behind the back of her neck, felt her hair brush softly against the backs of his fingers. Winter melted against him, rested her head on his shoulder, her lips a whisper from his neck.
The world went silent. There was nothing but this embrace, nothing to think or worry about, nothing that possibly needed to be done, nowhere to go. As he inhaled, he felt Winter exhale, tickling the hairs on his neck. He exhaled, felt Winter draw air through parted lips. With this woman in his arms, he could solve any problem.
“Can we stay just like this for about a month?” Rob said.
Winter drew back, out of his arms. “No.” She reached up, released the clasp on her shirt, and let it slide off.
When he woke, Winter was sitting on the edge of the bed, sliding on a boot that probably cost a month of Rob’s pay. Winter saw he was awake, smiled wanly. “Got any suggestions for a good lie I can tell Red, if he asks where I’ve been? I don’t have much experience with lying. I’m guessing you don’t either.”
Rob thought of the card from Penny he’d kept hidden from Lorelei. That had been more deception than lie.
“I guess I should feel guilty about this, but I don’t,” Winter said. She was finished dressing. “Before I died and went to bridesicle hell, maybe I would have.”
Rob bunched the sheets across his lap, sat up. “Do you have to go? I could get some coffee delivered.”
“That sounds lovely, but I should get back.”
“Just don’t tell me this was a onetime thing and that I can never see you again. I don’t think I can stand to hear that again.”
Winter folded her arms and sighed. “That’s what I was planning to say, but I would just be fooling myself. Again.”
Rob stood, wrapped his arms around Winter. “Can we plan something? This way I can look forward to it.”
“I wish we could go out to dinner, but… too risky.”
“Dinner here, then. I’ll get a delivery from Luigi’s.”
“You’ll get it? Rob, I’ve got money coming out of my ears. Dinner’s on me.”
58
Veronika
Veronika rode past Lemieux Bridge. It stretched toward the river, the high sweep of its expanse like a harp with golden strings. She smiled.
Just go through the motions until it stops hurting, she subvocalized, then took a sip of the blueberry coffee she was holding. It’s old advice, but it’s all I’ve got. For an instant Veronika forgot she was addressing Nathan, because she’d said the same thing to Rob just yesterday. She may have used the exact same words.
I know everyone thinks this, Nathan sent, but I’m not sure I’ll ever get over her. This—He stopped, trying to regain his composure.
It was weird being the whole one, the shoulder to be cried on. It was also weird that suddenly her happiest male friend was Lycan. As Rob and Nathan agonized over their respective lost loves, Lycan was finding himself. Veronika thought she deserved at least a smidgen of credit for that particular turnaround.
I wish I knew how to help you, she sent. She took a swig of her coffee.
Rob pinged her. Great, heartbreak in stereo. She invited him to join her.
I appreciate you listening, Nathan sent. I know I’m saying the same things over and over. I’ll let you go.
Rob’s screen popped into the passenger seat as Nathan signed off. Rob looked… surprisingly good. Happy. Beaming, even.
“What happened to you? Ten hours ago you looked ready to ask Lycan for tips on bridge diving.”
“This is borderline rude, not waiting to tell you this in person, but I can’t wait. Winter came to my apartment last night.”
“No way.” Veronika bounced in her seat, unable to control herself. “She just showed up? In person?”
“Yup.”
“What happened?”
Rob smiled. “She loves me.”
“God, I hope you guys know what the hell you’re doing.” If Red caught them, the legal consequences would be devastating. Beyond that, the research indicated that affairs almost always ended badly, leaving nothing but pain and regret in their aftermath.
“Well, under normal circumstances I’d never think of being with a married woman, but these aren’t normal circumstances.”
“No, they’re not. Normally you’re not risking the wrath of a billionaire.”
“Where are you headed?” Rob asked.
“To Lycan’s for dinner.”
“Let’s talk more, when we can do it IP?” Rob said. “You’ve been such a good friend, I wanted to tell you as soon as possible, even if that meant via screen. It’s just between us, okay?”
“Sure thing.”
They signed off, and Veronika was alone in her silent car. Veronika envied Rob’s earnestness, how deeply he trusted his own emotions, even if that trust was probably misguided in the case of Winter. It seemed obvious that Rob’s obsession with Winter sprang out of his need to take care of her. He’d sacrificed everything to keep his promise to her, and when you make someone the center of your life like that, she’s going to end up on a pedestal.
As Veronika’s Scamp swung into the garage under Lycan’s apartment complex, it occurred to her that she could get a sense of how compatible Rob and Winter really were, just to satisfy her own curiosity. She’d constructed a profile for Rob months ago, but never used it. She retrieved it now, ran it against the profile she and Nathan had constructed for Winter, minus the parts that were fabrication, and…
Her coffee pouch slipped from her fingers, plopping to the seat. “You’re kidding me.” Point nine-seven. If Veronika had tried to find a match for Rob, and started from a sample of ten thousand prospects, she would have been lucky to find one match that good.
With a sigh, she climbed out of her Scamp, stepped into the lift. Rob had run over a woman who was all but perfect for him, making it impossible to ever be with her. What a mess.
In the hall, she pinged Lycan to let him know she was there; the door to his apartment swirled open. She stepped inside, yelped, took an involuntary step backward.
Lycan’s place had become a sumptuous dining room, complete with chandelier, high-backed brass chairs, antique drone servants. It was instantly familiar to Veronika as a scene from Wings of Fire. Lycan was sitting at the table, foot crossed over knee, dressed in the signature twenty-first-century garb of her secret, embarrassing crush—Peytr Sidorov. Blue jeans and a layered white banquet shirt, his shiny white shoes rounded at the tips.
Hand trembling, obviously nervous, Lycan rapped on the dining table. “It’s all real. Not an interactive.”
And to think just a moment ago Veronika had been thinking about how grounded Lycan was becoming. The door to the kitchen had been replaced by gold curtains; they swished open and a drone entered, carrying a silver tray. It held out the tray to Veronika, offering little crab-shaped appetizers. She took one, held it between two fingers. “What is going on?”
Lycan grinned. “It’s a surprise. Remember a few months ago, when you left me in your living room and invited me to play an interactive to pass the time while you worked?”