id, her voice carrying across the cubicles. She'd seen the submission not

r computer screen, pretending to be absorbed in a spreadsheet. Arguing w

job application and the impending evening. When she pushed open the door to the Queens a

relaxed. He still wore the sunglasses. It was the first time they'd been

ce softer than she inte

A few appointments." His tone was the same as yesterday-calm,

herapist, right? Yo

ted smoothly, the lie well-rehearsed. "I spe

life he supposedly led. While a small, foolish part of her felt a twinge of disappointment-the Rolls-Royce

d. The crisp sound of a knife chopping vegetables on a wooden board, the rush of water from the faucet, the soft clink of plates. T

nd a side salad. She set a place for him at the sma

f you," she said softly. "Fork is

ments a little too deliberate, a littl

and physiology, he answered her questions flawlessly, even weaving in some interesting facts about pressure points and

o take a shower," she said, trying to sound casual. "I p

sound of the running water filling the small apartment. Her heart began

rely knew? A man who couldn't even see her? The thought was a t

ct herself. But the words on the page blurred together. All she coul