A Life in Plain Sight

Chapter Three — Relevant Information

When Steve and Chloe returned to the table, Nat was drinking with unusual concentration, Tori had her phone angled away from the others, and Sofia was inspecting a perfectly good manicure. Maddie was trying to persuade a cocktail napkin to stand on four legs. Its chances were poor. Their collective innocence had clearly been rehearsed. Steve stopped beside his chair. “What happened?” Steve asked. All five turned toward him.

“Nothing,” Chloe said. Steve gave her a flat stare. “You weren’t here,” Steve said. “No,” Chloe answered. “So you’re not a reliable witness,” Steve concluded. Tori’s phone lowered slightly. Steve pointed at her. “You,” Steve said. “Me?” Tori asked. “You look guilty.”

Tori’s eyebrows rose. The expression somehow made the pearls at her throat look judgmental too. “I am an attorney,” Tori said. “Exactly,” Steve answered. “That is an offensive stereotype,” Tori objected. Steve shrugged. “Is it inaccurate?” “Yes,” Tori said. Nat snorted. Tori turned toward her. “Do you have something to contribute?”

“Nope,” Nat said. “Then don’t,” Tori answered. Steve turned to Nat. She took another drink, crossed one bare knee over the other, and met his stare with the serenity of a woman who had absolutely committed the crime. Sofia offered him a smile so practiced it might have come with a warranty. “Oh, absolutely not,” Steve muttered. Sofia blinked. “What?”

“You’re doing something too,” Steve said. “I am sitting here,” Sofia answered. “That’s what Brittney says,” Steve replied. That caught Sofia's attention. “Who’s Brittney?” “My sister,” he answered. Nat leaned forward. “You have a sister?” Steve pulled out his chair. “I do.” “Older or younger?”

“Older,” Steve said. Nat kept going. “How much older?” “Five years,” Steve replied. Nat continued. “What does she do?” Nat asked. “Nurse,” Steve said. Nat barely paused. “Married?” Steve sat. “Yes.” “To?” He looked at Nat.

“A person,” Steve said. “Man? Woman?” Nat pressed. “Nat,” Chloe said. “What? That’s normal conversation,” Nat protested. “No,” Tori said, “it is an interrogation wearing a fake mustache.” Steve laughed. Nat pointed at Tori. “That’s rich coming from you,” Nat said.

“I conduct interviews,” Tori said. “You cross-examine people for money,” Nat answered. “Under rules,” Tori replied. “You’d be terrifying on a first date,” Nat told her. Maddie looked up from the napkin. “She was,” Maddie said. Tori turned. “You were not my first date.” “No, but I was somebody’s.” There was a pause.

Tori stared at her. Maddie smiled. Tori’s expression softened despite an obvious effort to prevent it. “Technically correct,” Tori conceded. Steve sat back. Tori looked away first, still smiling. Steve had seen that particular surrender at family dinners.

Steve liked watching them, though he'd only met them tonight. They reminded him of family dinners: Brittney talking over Liz, their mother trying to finish a sentence, and an aunt shouting from another room that everybody was wrong. Nobody waited for a speaking turn, and nobody took an argument as a reason to leave. Somebody always stole food off his plate and then got offended when he counted the missing pieces. Nat returned to him. “Your sister,” Nat said. “Still have one,” Steve answered. “Married to?” Nat persisted. “My sister-in-law,” Steve answered. Nat narrowed her eyes. Steve enjoyed himself.

“Oh, you’re enjoying this now,” Chloe said. “A little,” Steve admitted. “I knew it,” Chloe said. “Don’t make this weird,” Steve warned. “You’re sitting with five strangers answering questions about your sister by technicality.” “Four strangers,” Steve corrected. The table quieted. Steve realized he’d said it before he understood what he’d said. Nat looked around. “Okay. Who isn’t a stranger?”

Steve took a drink. “Chloe,” Steve said. Chloe's mouth curved at one corner, and she held his gaze a moment longer. Steve immediately wished he could retrieve the sentence and inspect it for defects. “I mean, comparatively.” “Ah,” Chloe said.

“Yes,” Steve said. “Wouldn’t want to make it weird,” Chloe said. “Exactly,” Steve said. “God forbid,” Chloe added. Steve frowned. “Why are you saying it like that?” “Like what?” she asked. “Like—” He stopped. Chloe waited. Steve abandoned the investigation.

His mind went back to the dance. Thirty-five years of avoiding it, and he'd managed just fine. And Chloe Bennett was even prettier when she was close enough to make his brain forget what it had been doing. He'd noticed it at the table, but being close enough to dance with her had made it impossible to file away as an observation. But dancing wasn't what he needed to discuss.

Steve set his beer down. “Actually,” Steve began. Five women looked at him. Steve regretted the word instantly. There were certain words that should never be spoken to a group. Actually was one. Technically was another. We need to talk could destroy a marriage at twenty paces. “I should probably clear something up.” That was worse.

Nat’s glass stopped halfway to her mouth. Tori put down her phone. Sofia looked at Steve. Really looked. Maddie stopped folding the napkin. Chloe was the only one who didn’t move. “Okay,” she said. Steve looked at her. He knew the sentence he needed. He'd used versions of it for years.

He’d done this before. Hundreds of times, probably. Restaurants. Stores. Work conferences. The dentist once, which had been particularly confusing because the woman had his fucking chart. At the dentist it had been almost funny, at conferences mostly tiring. Tonight he cared how the correction landed.

A stranger's embarrassment lasted a minute. Chloe's might follow him out of the bar. Steve rubbed his thumb against the condensation on his glass. “I think there might be a misunderstanding,” Steve said. Nat flicked a glance toward Chloe, and Steve hurried to finish before anyone could interrupt. “Not a bad one. Nobody did anything wrong. I just realized that I may have assumed you knew something, and you may have assumed something else, and now that I’ve noticed that, it would be shitty not to say anything.”

Tori set her phone aside and gave him her attention. Steve looked at Chloe again. “I’m a guy.” For a second or two, the bass line under the room's conversation seemed louder than it had before. A chair scraped behind him. His bottle was cold against his fingers.

Chloe blinked. Once. “Oh,” Chloe said. “Yeah,” Steve replied. Another second. Steve felt compelled to fill it. “I know I don’t really—” He stopped. Don’t really what? Look like one? That sounded pathetic.

And it wasn't as though he didn't know what he looked like. He owned mirrors. He tried again. “People get it wrong a lot.” Nat raised her eyebrows; Steve had no idea what to make of it. “So,” he continued, “I just wanted to make sure you knew.”

Chloe looked at him. “I didn’t,” Chloe admitted. That answered the question Steve had been afraid to ask. He nodded. “Okay,” Steve said. “You thought I did?” Chloe asked. “I wasn’t sure,” Steve admitted. “When did you realize I might not?” Chloe asked. Steve stared at her. Chloe waited.

Nat slowly lowered her glass. Steve could feel the entire table listening. “While we were dancing,” Steve admitted. Chloe’s mouth twitched. Steve’s stomach sank. “What?” he asked. “Nothing,” Chloe said. “That’s not nothing.” She conceded that. “No.” “So what is it?” Steve asked.

“You realized while we were dancing,” Chloe said. “Yes,” Steve replied. Chloe smiled. “Anything in particular happen?” Steve narrowed his eyes. Chloe's innocent expression was bullshit. “You were flirting with me,” Steve said. Nat made a strangled sound. Chloe turned her head. “Are you okay?”

Nat covered her mouth. Tori was looking down. Sofia had suddenly become very interested in Maddie’s napkin. Maddie was staring at Steve with enormous delighted eyes. He scanned the table. “Oh, fuck you. What?” Steve demanded. “Nothing,” Nat said through her hand. “Everybody here is terrible at nothing.” Chloe looked back at him.

“So you did notice,” Chloe said. “Eventually,” Steve admitted. “Eventually,” Chloe repeated, enjoying herself. “I had competing evidence.” Chloe waited. “Such as?” Chloe asked. “You’re a lesbian,” Steve said. “Yes,” she replied. “We’re in a lesbian bar,” Steve added. “Yes,” Chloe agreed. “You have four girlfriends.”

“Yes,” Chloe agreed. “And I’m a man,” Steve said. Chloe considered him. “Yes.” Steve waited. Chloe waited. He frowned. “Those facts seemed relevant,” Steve said. “They are,” Chloe answered. “Good.”

“Did you think I was confused?” Chloe asked. “No.” Her eyebrow rose. Steve reconsidered. “I thought you might have incomplete information.” Tori made a small sound. Steve looked at her. “What?” Steve asked. “Nothing,” Tori answered. “Counselor,” he pressed.

That got her. Tori smiled despite herself. “Your phrasing,” Tori said. “What about it?” Steve asked. “Nothing. Continue,” Tori replied. Steve turned back to Chloe. “I just didn’t want you thinking I was deliberately letting you believe something that wasn’t true.” The jokes at the table faded.

Sofia stopped pretending to study the napkin. Tori’s expression softened. Even Nat went still. Chloe looked at Steve for several seconds. “You were worried I’d feel tricked,” Chloe said. Steve shrugged. “Wouldn’t you?” “No,” she answered. “Well, I didn’t know that,” Steve said.

“No. You didn’t,” Chloe said. “So,” Steve said. “So you told me,” she reminded him. “Yeah,” he answered. “Thank you,” Chloe said. Steve exhaled. He hadn't noticed how tightly he'd been gripping the beer bottle. “Okay.” Chloe picked up her drink.

Steve waited. She drank. He waited some more. Chloe looked at him. “What?” Chloe asked. “Nothing,” Steve replied. Chloe grinned. “Oh, now you’re doing it.” “Doing what?” he asked. “Waiting,” she said. “For?”

“I don’t know,” Steve admitted. “That’s inefficient,” Chloe observed. Steve stared. She smiled. Chloe was acting as if the matter was settled. Steve had expected considerably more argument. Steve checked the table. Nat seemed to be doing math that kept producing an answer she didn't like, while Tori held her composure by a thread.

Sofia considered him over her glass. Maddie's grin was no help; she had been delighted by nearly everything since he arrived. Steve turned back to Chloe. “That’s it?” Steve asked. “What else did you want?” Chloe asked. “I didn’t want anything,” he said. Chloe spread her hands. “Then yes.”

“But—” Steve started. Chloe waited. Steve stopped. He didn’t know what came after but. But you’re a lesbian. She knew that. But you were flirting with me. She knew that too. But I’m a man. They had literally just covered it. He had successfully corrected the data.

Chloe could make her own decision with the information he'd given her. That was why he'd said it. Fine. “Okay,” Steve said. Chloe smiled. “Okay.” Steve picked up his beer. Nat lasted six seconds. “So Brittney’s married to a woman,” Nat resumed. Steve closed his eyes.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve groaned. “What? We changed topics,” Nat protested. “No, you circled back,” Steve said. “Is that a yes?” Nat asked. “Yes,” Steve answered. “Your sister is a lesbian,” Nat continued. “Yes,” Steve answered. “And she sent you here,” Nat added. “Yes,” Steve repeated.

“To Blush,” Nat continued. “Yes,” Steve replied. “A lesbian bar,” Nat insisted. Steve sighed. “Nat.” “What?” Nat demanded. “Do you need me to draw a diagram?” Steve asked. Maddie brightened. “I can.” “No,” four people said. Maddie looked wounded.

Steve pointed at her. “I appreciate the offer,” Steve told Maddie. “Thank you.” Tori sighed. Nat was undeterred. “So why?” Nat asked. Steve shrugged. “She thinks I need to get out more,” Steve said. “To a lesbian bar,” Nat clarified. “Yes.”

“Specifically,” Nat pressed. “Yes.” Nat looked at Sofia. Sofia looked at Nat. Steve saw that too. “What?” Steve asked. Nat turned back. “Nothing.” “Stop saying nothing,” Steve insisted. “We don’t know anything,” Nat replied.

“That is demonstrably false. You’ve spent the last half hour trying to know everything.” Tori covered a smile with her glass. Nat leaned forward. “Does Brittney come here?” Nat asked. “Sometimes,” Steve said. “With her wife?” Nat followed up. “Liz. Yeah.” “Liz.”

“Yes.” “Does Liz know you’re here?” Nat asked. “She was sitting at my kitchen table when Brittney sentenced me,” Steve said. “Your kitchen?” Nat repeated. “Yes.” She leaned forward. “You cooked?” Nat asked. “Yes,” Steve said. “What?” Steve stared at her. “Why?”

“I’m curious,” Nat said. “You’re always curious.” “Correct,” she said. “Chicken,” Steve answered. “What kind?” Nat asked. Steve told her. Nat nodded. “Good?” Nat asked. “Very.” She looked skeptical. “You’re confident.”

“I fixed the marinade.” There was a pause. Chloe looked at him. “You fixed a recipe?” Chloe asked. “It had too much sugar,” Steve explained. “You’d never made it,” Chloe reminded him. “That doesn’t mean the ratio wasn’t wrong.” Sofia smiled. “What else do you cook?” Sofia asked. “Whatever,” Steve answered.

“That’s not an answer,” Sofia said. Steve looked at her. “Are you interrogating me now?” Steve asked. “No,” Sofia replied. “She is,” Nat said. Sofia ignored her. “Favorite thing to make?” Sofia asked. Steve thought about it. “That depends,” Steve said. “On?” Sofia asked.

“Who I’m cooking for,” Steve answered. Sofia set down her glass and leaned toward him. Across the table, Nat drew breath to ask something else, but Chloe beat her to it with a small, unmistakable smile. Steve frowned. “What?” Chloe said, “Nothing.” He pointed at her. “You’re abusing that word now,” Steve said.

“I learned from experts,” Chloe replied. Nat raised her glass. “Thank you,” Nat said. Steve shook his head. Sofia asked, “Okay. Brittney. What’s her favorite?” “Lasagna,” Steve answered. “Liz?” Sofia asked. “Pernil.”

Sofia smiled. “You make pernil for your Puerto Rican sister-in-law?” Sofia asked. Steve looked offended. “I make good pernil for my Puerto Rican sister-in-law.” Nat slapped the table. “Okay, I like him again.” “Again?” Steve said. “You were briefly under review,” Nat said. “When?” Steve asked.

“Recently,” Nat said. “For what?” Steve pressed. Nat opened her mouth. Tori said, “Don’t.” Nat closed it. Steve looked between them. He watched Nat close her mouth on whatever she'd been about to say. “Liz taught me,” he said.

“Ah,” Sofia said. “The first one was apparently a hate crime.” Sofia laughed. “Her words?” Sofia asked. “Her aunt’s,” Steve said. That got her. “Oh no,” she groaned. “Yeah,” he said. “What did she say?” Steve shook his head.

“I don’t speak enough Spanish to reproduce the entire indictment, but I understood my name, Dios mío, and something about my mother.” Sofia was laughing harder now. “My mother wasn’t even there,” Steve continued. “That wouldn’t save her,” Sofia replied. “I gathered,” Steve said. “You made it again?” Sofia asked. “Obviously.” Sofia stopped laughing. Not completely. Just enough to look at him.

“Obviously?” Sofia repeated. Steve shrugged. “It was bad.” “So?” Sofia prompted. “So I fixed it,” he said. Sofia's laugh faded. Beside her, Tori lowered her glass; Chloe turned in her chair to face him.

Even Nat. Steve set down his beer. “Okay, seriously, what?” “Nothing,” Chloe said. “Fuck all of you,” Steve said. Maddie smiled. “You really do sound like us.” Steve looked at her. Again. The same sentence.

He felt absurdly pleased that she'd said it, and annoyed with himself for being pleased. He took another drink. Nat watched him over the rim of her glass. “So what do you do for fun?” Nat asked. Steve groaned. “We’re back to the interview?” “No. Conversation,” Nat corrected.

“You’re terrible at conversation,” Steve said. Nat sat up. “I am phenomenal at conversation. I get paid to converse.” “You get paid to manipulate people,” Steve replied. “That’s Sales,” Nat replied. “Yes,” Steve said. Nat smiled. “See? You understand.” Steve smiled despite himself. “Code,” Steve answered.

“For fun?” Nat asked. “Yes,” Steve replied. Nat looked horrified. “That is the saddest thing you’ve said tonight,” Nat declared. “It is not,” Steve insisted. “You voluntarily do your job after work,” Nat objected. “No. I voluntarily do interesting versions of my job after work,” he said. “That’s worse.” “It’s not.”

“What else?” Nat asked. “Cars,” Steve replied. Nat sized him up, and Steve recognized the invitation to argue. His spine straightened slightly. “Yes. Cars.” “I didn’t say anything.”

“You looked something,” Steve told her. Chloe’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. Nat raised both hands. “I believe you,” Nat said. “You don’t sound like you believe me,” Steve replied. “I absolutely believe tiny people can enjoy cars,” Nat said. Steve glared. Sofia laughed. Tori said, “Size has no bearing on automotive enthusiasm.” “Thank you.”

“Although I’m interested in what you drive,” Tori added. Steve hesitated. Goddammit. Nat saw it. “Oh, this is going to be good,” Nat said. “It’s a car,” Steve answered. “What car?” Nat asked. “A Mini,” he said. Nat’s face lit up. Steve pointed at her.

“Don’t,” Steve warned. “I didn’t say anything,” Nat replied. “Your entire face said something.” “What color?” Nat asked. “No,” Steve answered. “Steve,” Nat pressed. “No,” he repeated. Chloe was watching him now. Not laughing. Not yet.

Nat leaned across the table. “What. Color,” Nat demanded. Steve took a long drink. “Pink.” Nat folded over laughing before Steve could defend himself. The others were hardly kinder, though none of it carried any malice.

Sofia clapped both hands over her mouth. Tori looked toward the ceiling as though appealing to a judiciary with greater jurisdiction. Chloe simply stared at him. Maddie nodded. “Of course,” Maddie said. Steve put down his beer. “Fuck every single one of you,” Steve said. Nat managed, “You drive a pink Mini?” “It was a good deal.” That made it worse.

“It was!” Steve protested. Chloe had started laughing now. Steve turned on her. “You too?” Steve asked. “I’m sorry,” Chloe said. “You are not,” Steve replied. Chloe grinned. “No.” “It’s a car.” “A pink Mini,” Chloe reminded him. “The color has no mechanical effect,” Steve insisted.

Nat made a noise like she was dying. Embarrassment made Steve argumentative, which was unfortunate because he had plenty of material. “It was the right year, low mileage, one owner, complete service history, and twelve percent below market because grown adults are frightened of paint.” Tori lowered her head. Her shoulders were moving. “You’re all idiots,” Steve said. Maddie leaned toward him. “I like pink.” Steve looked at her. “Thank you.”

“I think your car likes being pink too,” Maddie said. He paused. “I’m withdrawing my thank-you,” Steve said. “Too late,” Maddie replied. Chloe wiped under one eye. Steve stared at her. She got herself under control. Mostly. “I’m sorry,” Chloe said. “No, you’re not,” Steve replied.

“I’m a little sorry,” Chloe admitted. “You’re a terrible person,” Steve said. “I’ve been told,” Chloe answered. Steve crossed his arms. Nat looked at him. Then at Chloe. Then at Steve again. Nat had the expression of someone about to close a sale. Tori recognized the danger. “No.”

“I haven’t said anything,” Nat protested. “You are about to,” Tori said. “Stop profiling me,” Nat complained. “Nat,” Tori warned. Nat looked at Steve. “So just to make sure I’ve got the updated file correct—” Nat began. “Nat,” Tori interrupted. “You are a man,” Nat summarized. “Yes,” Steve said. “Who was sent to a lesbian bar by his lesbian sister and lesbian sister-in-law.” “Yes.”

“Where you met Chloe,” Nat continued. “Yes.” “Who flirted with you,” Nat added. Steve glanced at Chloe. Chloe took a very innocent drink. “Yes.” “You then danced with her,” Nat continued. “Yes,” Steve replied. “She led,” Nat added. Steve frowned.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant,” Steve said. Nat made a sound. Tori slapped a hand over her own face. Steve looked around. “What?” “Nothing,” Sofia said quickly. “Oh, fuck off.” Nat pressed on. “You cook for your family.” “Lots of men cook,” Steve replied.

“Absolutely,” Nat agreed. “I like cars.” “Yes.” “I write software,” Steve added. “Yes,” Nat agreed. “I am literally sitting here telling you I’m a man,” Steve protested. “Yes,” Nat replied. Nat’s face was perfectly serious now. Too serious. Steve narrowed his eyes.

“And?” Steve asked. “No and,” Nat said. “There’s an and,” Steve insisted. “Nope,” Nat replied. “Nat.” “I respect the data,” Nat said. Tori’s head snapped toward her. Steve pointed. “See! That’s exactly the tone.”

“What tone?” Nat asked. “The tone people use when they absolutely do not respect the data.” “I respect it,” Nat repeated. “You think I’m lying?” Steve asked. The question changed things. Instantly. Nat’s amusement disappeared. “No.” Steve watched her. “No?”

“No,” Nat repeated. Sofia shook her head too. Tori said, quietly, “Not at all.” Steve looked at Chloe. She held his eyes. “I believe you,” Chloe said. Steve looked down at his glass. He hadn't expected those three words to leave him struggling for an answer. “Okay.”

Nat leaned back. The joke was gone from her voice when she added: “You told us who you are. That’s good enough for me.” Steve looked at her. Nat was serious. He'd heard that tone from Brittney when she wanted him to know she meant every word. He nodded. “Thanks,” Steve said. “However,” Nat added.

Tori closed her eyes. “There it is,” Steve said. Nat smiled. “I reserve the right to mock your car,” Nat said. Steve relaxed. “Fuck you,” Steve replied. “There he is,” Nat said. Chloe laughed. Steve looked at her. She was still interested.

Chloe sat beside him as comfortably as before, but she hadn't resumed flirting after the dance. There was a fraction more space between their chairs now. He wondered if she was giving him room. He had supplied the missing information. The system had accepted it. And produced an output he had not predicted. Steve hated when that happened. He also, inconveniently, wanted another beer. He looked down at the empty bottle. Then toward the bar. Then back at the table.

One drink. He had agreed to one drink. That had been the deal. He could leave. He had done exactly what he’d promised. He'd come to Blush, stayed far longer than planned, and even danced, which frankly ought to count as overtime. Brittney had won enough.

Steve pushed his chair back. Chloe looked over. “You leaving?” Chloe asked. There was no accusation in it. Just a question. Steve looked at the five of them. Nat was smug as ever, Tori had recovered her composure, and Maddie was attempting to smuggle the napkin creature into Chloe's purse while Sofia watched without intervening.

Chloe was waiting for his answer. He should go. Instead Steve picked up his empty bottle. “I’m getting another beer,” Steve said. Chloe smiled. “Thought you were only having one,” Chloe said. Steve stopped. “How do you know that?” he asked. “You told me,” she reminded him. “When?”

“At the bar,” Chloe said. “I said one drink?” Steve asked. “You said you had the posture of someone serving a sentence,” Chloe recalled. “That is not the same thing,” Steve objected. “You subsequently confirmed parole terms,” she added. Steve stared at her. “You remember everything?” “Only useful things,” Chloe answered. “That sounds exhausting,” Steve said. “It is.”

Steve considered her. Then held up the empty bottle. “I’m amending the agreement,” Steve announced. “With Brittney?” Chloe asked. “With myself,” Steve said. “Dangerous,” Chloe observed. “Apparently I’m having a reckless evening.” Chloe looked at his dark blue shirt, black jeans, narrow black boots, and empty beer bottle. “Wild.” “Don’t push me. I might order an appetizer.”

Chloe smiled. He'd already stayed far longer than planned, and the irritating part was how little he wanted to stop. Steve headed for the bar and his second beer.

* * *

The second beer came with mozzarella sticks. This was not his fault. There had been a sign advertising half-price appetizers after nine, and ordering food had therefore become basic financial responsibility. Steve returned carrying the basket. Chloe looked at it. Steve sat down. “Not a word,” Steve warned. “I didn’t say anything,” Chloe replied. “You were about to,” Steve said. “I was going to ask for one,” Chloe answered.

“Oh.” Chloe took one. “Thank you,” Chloe said. “You’re welcome,” Steve replied. Nat reached for one. Steve moved the basket. “You’re charging me?” Nat asked. “You mocked my car,” Steve said. “That was before there was food,” Nat argued. “Actions have consequences,” Steve said.

Tori nodded. “Finally, some respect for the rule of law.” “You laughed too,” Steve said. “I laughed judicially,” Tori replied. “That isn’t a thing,” Steve said. “It is now,” Tori replied. Sofia stole one while Steve was looking at Tori. He caught her chewing, sighed, and pushed the basket into the middle of the table. “Animals.” “Thank you,” Maddie said.

She took two. Steve stopped counting the stolen mozzarella sticks. Whatever agreement governed this table, nobody had bothered to document it. His phone buzzed.

Brittney: Still alive?

Steve: Unfortunately.

Brittney: Having fun?

He considered lying. Then he looked around the table. Maddie had unfolded Dennis and was explaining something about his tax practice to Tori. Nat was stealing another mozzarella stick. Sofia was trying to determine whether Dennis had professional liability insurance. Chloe caught Steve looking. Her eyebrow rose. Steve looked back at his phone.

Steve: I am on my second beer.

Brittney: WHAT

Steve smiled. “You’re smiling,” Chloe said. “I am not,” Steve said. “You were,” Chloe insisted. “I was texting my sister,” Steve said. “Those aren’t mutually exclusive,” Chloe observed. Steve put his phone facedown. “She’s being annoying,” Steve said. “What’s her name again?” Chloe asked. “Brittney.”

Sofia's hand stilled on the edge of the basket. “Brittney what?” Sofia asked. Steve looked at her. “Why?” “What’s her wife’s name?” Sofia asked. “Liz,” Steve said. Nat stopped chewing. Tori looked up. Chloe’s hand paused halfway toward another mozzarella stick. Sofia asked, “Is Liz Puerto Rican?”

Steve pointed at her. “Why do you know that?” Nat sat up. “Oh my God. Brittney and Liz?” Steve looked at Chloe. Chloe was staring at him with recognition. “Oh, shit,” Chloe said. “You know my sister,” Steve answered. It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah,” Chloe admitted. Steve looked around the table. “Do you?” Steve asked. “I know Liz better,” Sofia said. “I’ve met them,” Nat added. “Several times,” said Tori. Maddie swallowed. “I think Brittney once helped me find my coat,” Maddie offered. “Of course she did,” Steve said. “It wasn’t my coat,” Maddie added.

“Of course it wasn’t,” Steve said. “I found mine later,” Maddie replied. “I’m glad this story had a happy ending,” Steve said. He turned back to Chloe. “You knew,” Steve accused. “No. I know Brittney. I didn’t know you were Brittney’s brother,” Chloe answered. That was annoyingly plausible. “Brittney didn’t say anything?”

Chloe hesitated. Steve saw it. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Steve said. “Not about tonight,” Chloe answered. “Chloe,” Steve pressed. “Not about you tonight,” Chloe clarified. “Those are extremely lawyerly distinctions for someone who isn’t the lawyer.” Tori said, “I approve.” “Of course you do.” Chloe put both hands on the table.

“Brittney has complained about someone brilliant and impossible. She never said it was her brother.” Steve stared. “What did she say?” Steve asked. “Honestly?” Chloe replied. “That would be refreshing.” “Not much. She complained about someone she refused to name.” Steve relaxed. “Oh.” “Repeatedly,” Chloe added.

“Okay,” Steve said. “Affectionately,” Chloe added. “Less important.” Sofia smiled. “She might’ve said you were brilliant,” Sofia said. “She exaggerates,” Steve replied. “And impossible,” Chloe said. “She does not exaggerate.” Chloe’s eyes flicked toward Sofia. Steve followed the look.

“Sofia.” Sofia sighed. “It was months ago. She said someone in her family didn’t get out enough and could rationalize anything. She didn't say it was you.” “That’s not true,” Steve objected. Five women looked at him. Steve closed his eyes. “Fuck you.” Maddie nodded solemnly.

“Compelling rebuttal,” Maddie said. Steve rubbed his forehead. “So she complained about me. You didn’t know I was me.” “Correct,” Tori said. It was an annoyingly clean answer. Chloe hadn't danced with him because Brittney had filed some sort of sisterly work order. That was a relief.

Good. Good. Then another thought arrived. “Wait,” Steve said. Chloe’s mouth twitched. “What?” Chloe asked. “You know Brittney,” Steve said. “Yes.” “And Brittney knows you,” Steve said. “Yes,” Chloe agreed.

“Sofia knows Liz. Nat and Tori have met them. Maddie helped Brittney steal someone else’s coat.” “I was emotionally supportive,” Maddie said. Steve stared at the table. This was bad. His objection was entirely structural. His life had contained several reasonably independent systems. Brittney and Liz existed in one.

Work existed in another. Whatever the fuck this was had appeared to be a third. There had been firewalls. He'd been fond of those firewalls. Now the entire network had become everybody's business. “Oh, no,” Steve muttered. Nat smiled. “What?” “You can talk to her,” Steve realized. He looked at Chloe. “You can talk to Brittney. About me.”

Chloe’s smile widened. “Oh, absolutely,” Chloe replied. “No,” Steve protested. “I haven’t done anything,” Chloe said. “You’re thinking things,” Steve accused. “You can’t prove that,” Chloe replied. “I know that face,” he said. “You’ve known me an hour.” “Apparently I’m a fast learner.” That felt perilously close to flirting again.

Steve caught the hint this time and promptly looked at Sofia instead. “You cannot collaborate with Liz,” Steve warned. “I would never,” Sofia said. “Thank you,” Steve said. “Without Brittney,” Sofia added. Steve closed his eyes. “This is a nightmare.” “Five of you can now exchange information with my sister.”

“Six,” Sofia said. “Liz.” “Right.” Maddie touched his arm. “Dennis has no contact information,” Maddie offered. Steve opened one eye. “Thank you, Maddie.” “You’re safe with Dennis,” Maddie assured him. “I always knew I could trust him,” Steve replied. “He’s very discreet,” Maddie added.

“Tax accountant.” “Exactly.” Tori said, “That is not how confidentiality works.” The conversation sprawled into the kind of family gossip Steve knew too well. Nat asked about Brittney's haircut, which led Sofia to ask whether Liz's aunt had delivered the pernil verdict. Chloe remembered Brittney threatening to replace someone's IV with vodka; Tori objected to Steve's use of probably; and Maddie drew Dennis a tiny padlock to protect his professional secrets.

Twenty minutes passed before Steve thought to check the time. He'd forgotten about leaving. He discovered Sofia owned the salon where she still worked with clients. “Because you said you still cut hair?” Steve asked. “I like cutting hair.” Steve nodded. “If you built a business around something you actually like doing, it’d be weird to become successful enough that you weren’t allowed to do the thing anymore.” Sofia stared at him.

“What?” Steve asked. “Nothing,” Sofia said. “Jesus Christ.” Sofia was still smiling when Maddie brought up the dental-software logo she'd been fighting with a client over. The client wanted it made “more premium.” “What does that mean?” Steve asked. “Nobody knows. They sent me a picture of a yacht.”

“That isn’t a specification,” Steve said. “Exactly,” Maddie answered. “Did they give you measurable requirements?” Steve asked. “They said make it pop,” Maddie answered. Steve recoiled. Maddie pointed at him. “See?” Steve was suddenly furious on her behalf. “Do you want to come to work with me?” she asked. “No,” Steve replied.

“You’d be so angry,” Maddie said. “I already am,” Steve admitted. Maddie beamed at him. “You understand me,” Maddie said. “I understand that your client is incompetent,” he corrected. “Same thing.” Tori's answer to his question about legal specialties contained so many qualifications that he accused her of billing him. She threatened to start. He told her she hadn't established an engagement.

She stared at him for two seconds. Then smiled. “Careful,” Tori said. “Why?” he asked. “I might start liking you,” Tori said. Steve opened his mouth. Tori took a perfectly calm drink. Nat made a tiny delighted noise. Tori looked at her. “Don't.”

“I didn't say anything,” Nat protested. “You were about to,” Tori replied. Steve frowned. Steve couldn't tell if Tori was joking. Nat admitted she sold enterprise software, and Steve called it morally indefensible. Nat reminded him that his paycheck depended on people like her convincing companies to buy things built by people like him. “Civilization contains many regrettable dependencies,” Steve said.

Nat raised her glass. “See? Now we’re communicating,” Nat said. “You're still a parasite,” Steve reminded her. “You say the sweetest things.” He frowned. “I did not say that sweetly.” Nat smiled over the rim of her glass. “I know.” That one Steve recognized. Maybe.

Fuck. Chloe managed software projects, and they promptly discovered a shared hatred of the same kind of meeting. “The meeting before the meeting,” Chloe said. “To prepare for the meeting,” Steve agreed. “Which could have been an email,” Chloe continued. “Everything could have been an email,” Steve said. “Not everything,” she objected. “Name one.” “Firing someone,” Chloe answered.

“Okay,” Steve conceded. “Breaking up with someone,” Chloe added. “Fine.” Chloe thought for a moment. “Marriage proposal.” “Depends on the attachment.” Chloe stared at him. Steve smiled. She laughed. He found himself waiting for her to laugh again. At some point the music changed. Another round appeared for the women. Maddie put Dennis into Steve’s shirt pocket. Steve looked down. “Why is your accountant in my shirt?” Steve asked. “He trusts you,” Maddie said.

“He met me tonight,” Steve protested. “So did we,” Maddie reminded him. Steve looked up. Maddie had already turned back to Sofia, but Steve kept hearing her answer. So did we. He glanced around the table and realized he was reluctant to leave it.

Nat was still stealing food off his plate; Maddie had Dennis propped against Tori's glass, where Tori was pretending not to notice. Sofia was talking to Chloe about something at the salon. Steve listened, surprised by how easily he could follow all five of them now. Steve glanced at Chloe, who caught him doing it again. “What?” Chloe asked. “Nothing,” Steve said. Her eyes narrowed. “You're terrible at nothing,” she told him. He smiled. “Learned from experts.” Chloe smiled back. Goddammit, he liked that.

* * *

By eleven thirty, Steve had been at Blush long enough that leaving had become conceptually different from escaping. He was just leaving. Eventually. Like a normal person. Who had gone somewhere and had a good time. This was deeply irritating. Nat had commandeered his phone. Steve had allowed this only because she had claimed she was entering her number. That had been thirty seconds ago. “What are you doing?” Steve demanded.

“Administrative work,” Nat said. “Give me my phone,” Steve answered. “Almost done,” Nat promised. “You said your number,” Steve reminded her. “I lied.” He stared at her. “Nat.” Tori leaned over. “What did you do?” “Nothing illegal,” Nat said. “That was not his question,” Tori observed.

“It wasn't yours either,” Nat replied. Steve reached across the table. Nat held the phone away from him. She had longer arms. This was discriminatory. “Give me the fucking phone.” “Done.” She handed it back. Steve looked at the screen. A new group chat existed.

Blush Witness Protection

Participants: Chloe, Nat, Tori, Sofia, Maddie, Steve.

He stared at it. They had put him into the group chat as though this were a normal thing people did with strangers. “No,” Steve said. Nat smiled. “Yes.”

“No,” Steve said. “You need protection,” Nat countered. “From what?” he asked. “Mostly us,” she admitted. “Then this seems structurally unsound,” Steve decided. Tori nodded. “That's fair.” Steve looked at Chloe. “You permitted this?” “I was not consulted.”

“Would you have stopped it?” Steve asked. “No,” Chloe said. “Then you're complicit.” Chloe shrugged. “Probably.” Tori pointed at him. “You see? That's the use of probably I object to.” “I'm deleting all of you,” Steve said. His phone buzzed in his hand.

Maddie: Dennis says hello

Steve looked across the table. Maddie waved. Maddie waved Dennis at him. Steve rubbed his temple while she grinned. His phone buzzed again.

Tori: Dennis is six inches from Steve.

Maddie: emotionally he is texting

Nat: tiny engineer has entered witness protection

Steve looked up. “Do not call me Tiny Engineer,” Steve warned. Nat smiled. “Noted.” His phone buzzed.

Nat: tiny engineer objects to nickname

“Fuck you,” Steve told Nat. Sofia was laughing now. Chloe took Steve’s phone gently out of his hand before he could do anything rash. Her nails were immaculate. Dark tonight. He had noticed that while dancing too. He tried not to stare. She typed something and handed the phone back.

Chloe: Behave.

Steve looked at her. “That was your intervention?” Steve asked. “Yes,” Chloe replied. “You think that's going to work?” he asked. “No,” she admitted. “Good.” His phone buzzed.

Nat: no

Steve pointed at her. “See?” “I said no,” Nat insisted. “To what?” Steve asked. “General behavior,” Nat answered. “Fair,” he conceded. Maddie leaned toward Steve. “Don't leave the group,” Maddie asked. “I've been in it forty seconds,” Steve said. “Exactly.”

“That doesn't make sense,” Steve protested. “Please?” Maddie asked. Steve looked at her. Maddie looked at him without her usual mischievous grin. This time she really was asking. Steve looked down at the screen again. Six names. Five of which hadn't been in his phone when he'd walked through the door tonight. He could leave the chat later.

He left the group chat open. “Fine,” Steve said. Maddie smiled. Nat raised both hands. “He accepts the terms!” “There were no terms,” Steve said. “There are always terms,” Nat maintained. Tori said, “Please stop representing us.” “Never,” Nat answered. Steve put his phone away.

That should have been the end of it. It wasn't. Sofia said, “So you're coming next Friday.” Steve looked at her. “What?” he asked. “Next Friday,” Sofia repeated. “I heard the words,” Steve said. “Good,” Sofia replied. “I don't remember agreeing to them.” Sofia smiled. “You haven't.”

“Excellent.” Sofia waited. Steve waited back. She was very good at this. “What?” Steve asked. “You're coming back,” Sofia repeated. “That was a statement,” he observed. “Yes,” she agreed. “Not a question.” “Fine. Are you coming back?”

Steve opened his mouth. Nothing emerged. This was absurd. He hadn't left yet, and they were already scheduling the sequel. Nat leaned forward. “We're usually here Fridays,” Nat offered. “I gathered,” Steve said. “You should come,” Nat said. Steve looked at her.

Nat wasn't teasing him now. Tori nodded. “You survived the initial screening,” Tori said. “There was a screening?” Steve asked. “No.” Nat said, “There absolutely was.” Tori looked at her. “There was not.” “You were all interrogating me.”

“That was social curiosity,” Tori replied. “That phrase should terrify everyone,” Steve said. Maddie reached into Steve’s shirt pocket and adjusted Dennis so his little folded head stuck out. “Dennis wants you to come,” Maddie said. Steve looked down. “Dennis doesn't get a vote.” “He's a tax accountant.” “That makes me want his vote less.” Chloe had been quiet. Steve noticed.

Of course he noticed. Chloe caught his glance and held it. She was waiting for his answer, her hands folded around her drink. Steve had the strange impression that if he said no, Chloe would let him say no. She wouldn't try to persuade him or turn her disappointment into a debt.

That made saying no considerably harder. “Are you going to be here?” he asked. The question came out before he had approved it. Nat's eyes widened. Tori looked immediately at her drink. Sofia's mouth pressed together. Maddie looked between Steve and Chloe with the expression of someone watching a small woodland animal approach a hand. Steve realized what he'd asked. “I mean all of you.”

Too late. Chloe smiled. Not big. Just enough. “I'll be here,” Chloe said. Steve looked at the table. Five women. He couldn't remember the last time he'd made friends this quickly, or felt so little need to watch what he said. His sister had sent him here because she thought he needed to get out more. This was intolerable.

He was going to have to lie to her. “Maybe,” Steve said. Nat slapped the table. “Yes!” “I said maybe,” he protested. “You asked if Chloe would be here,” Nat reminded him. “I clarified.” “Afterward.” “Clarifications are legally meaningful.” Tori shook her head.

“Not enough facts,” Tori decided. “Traitor,” Steve muttered. “I have professional obligations.” “You do not represent me.” “Correct.” “Then stop lawyering my social life.” “I would love to,” Tori replied. Sofia smiled. “Next Friday.” Steve pointed at her.

“Maybe,” Steve insisted. “Next Friday,” Sofia answered. “Might have plans,” he added. Nat laughed. “You don't.” Steve glared. “You know almost nothing about me.” “I know you spent Friday night at home until your sister forcibly deployed you.” “That proves nothing.” “You reorganized your spice cabinet last weekend.”

Steve froze. The table froze with him. Slowly, Steve turned toward Chloe. She raised both hands. “I didn't tell her,” Chloe said. “Sofia?” Steve asked. “No,” Sofia replied. “Tori?” Steve asked. “No,” Tori answered. “Maddie?”

“Dennis?” Maddie asked. “No,” Steve replied. He looked at Nat. “How the fuck do you know about my spice cabinet?” Nat's face changed. “Oh.” “Oh what?” “I guessed,” Nat said. “You did not,” Steve protested. “I absolutely did.”

“That was extremely specific,” Steve said. “You have spice-cabinet energy,” Nat insisted. There was silence. Steve looked at Chloe. “Is that a thing?” “No.” Tori said, “It is now.” Steve put both hands over his face. “This was a mistake.” Chloe laughed softly beside him.

“No, it wasn't,” Chloe said. Steve lowered his hands. The answer had come without teasing. He looked at her. Chloe held his eyes. He wanted her to be right, which was annoying. He looked away first. “Maybe next Friday.” Sofia smiled. “Good enough.”

* * *

At eleven fifty-three, Steve finally stood with his phone tucked away and his jacket in hand. Dennis remained in his shirt pocket; Maddie had transferred legal custody without documentation. He looked down at the napkin. “Am I supposed to return this?” Steve asked. Maddie looked horrified. “Return Dennis?” “I don't know the protocol.”

“He goes where he's needed,” Maddie said. Steve looked at Tori. “Help,” he asked. “No,” Tori said. “Coward.” “Correct.” Nat hugged him. Steve had not been prepared for this. She simply stood and did it. One second he was holding his jacket.

The next he had a glamorous salesperson wrapped around him smelling faintly of perfume and whatever she'd been drinking. He automatically hugged her back. “Next Friday,” she said near his ear. “Maybe,” Steve replied. She pulled away. “You're adorable when you lie.” Steve stared at her. Nat smiled and walked back to her chair. He looked at the others. “What the fuck was that?”

“Nat,” Tori said. “Helpful,” Steve muttered. Tori stood next. She did not hug him. She touched his shoulder instead. “Drive safely,” Tori said. “Thank you,” Steve replied. “And don't let Nat sell you anything.” “I heard that,” Nat said. “It was intended to be heard.”

Maddie hugged him too. Then Sofia. Sofia wore a warm, floral perfume that he noticed when she hugged him. When she stepped back, she smiled. “I like you, Steve,” Sofia said. He blinked. “Okay.” Her smile widened. Steve realized. “That sounded bad.”

“A little,” Sofia admitted. “I meant—” “I know,” she said. “Good,” Steve said. “I still like you,” Sofia added. Steve looked at her. Her grin made him wonder whether he'd missed a joke. Before he could investigate, Sofia kissed his cheek. Quick. Casual. Perfectly normal to Sofia, at least.

Steve stood there. Sofia walked back to the table. Nat was visibly trying not to laugh. “Don't,” Steve said. “I haven't done anything,” Nat protested. “You're about to,” he answered. Chloe stood. That left her. Of course it did. She picked up her small bag and stepped around the table.

“You parked in the lot?” Chloe asked. “Yeah.” “I'll walk you out,” she said. Steve looked toward the door. “You don't have to.” “I know.” There was that answer again. He was beginning to understand that these women considered you don't have to almost entirely irrelevant to whether someone wanted to do something. “Okay.” They walked through Blush together.

The room had thinned a little. Not much. Purple light still washed the edges of the bar; amber pendants warmed faces underneath it. Someone was laughing near the pool tables. A woman in silver heels was dancing badly and enthusiastically with someone in combat boots. Steve realized he knew where the bathrooms were now. He'd found the quicker end of the bar, learned the bartender's name was Erin, and worked out that nobody owned the table near the back even though these five always claimed it on Fridays.

This was an unreasonable amount of infrastructure to acquire in one evening. Outside, the air had cooled. The pavement still held a faint shine from the earlier rain. Steve's Mini sat under a parking-lot light. Pink. Very pink. Chloe stopped. Steve stopped beside her. She stared at the car. “No.”

Steve closed his eyes. “You already knew,” Steve protested. “I knew intellectually,” Chloe replied. “Oh, fuck off.” “This is different.” “How?” “I can see it.” “That's generally how colors work.” Chloe walked toward the Mini. Steve followed.

“It’s pink,” Chloe said. “Yes.” She squinted at it. “Really pink.” “It was twelve percent below market.” “That doesn't make it less pink.” “It makes the color financially advantageous.” Chloe looked at him. Steve looked back. She laughed. “Your sister sent you to a lesbian bar in a pink Mini.”

“She did not select the transportation,” Steve explained. “Still,” Chloe said. “There is no still.” “There is an enormous still.” Steve unlocked the car. The lights flashed. Chloe smiled at it. “Cute.” “Don't.” “I like it.”

“You mocked it for thirty seconds,” Steve said. “I can contain multitudes,” Chloe replied. “Apparently.” Steve opened the driver's door, then stopped. Chloe was still standing there. Neither of them seemed to know whether the evening required some formal conclusion. This had not been covered. “Thanks,” Steve said. Chloe tilted her head. “For?”

He gestured vaguely toward the building. “Tonight,” Steve said. “You're welcome.” He looked at her. “And the dance.” Her smile changed. “Also welcome.” “And for not making the other thing weird.” The humor softened. “I meant what I said.” “I know.”

Steve put one hand on the top of the open car door. Chloe looked at him. She held his eyes. “I'm glad you told me.” Steve nodded. “Yeah.” A beat. Then Chloe said, “I'm also glad you came.”

That one landed. Steve looked toward Blush. Then back at her. “Don't tell Brittney,” Steve said. Chloe laughed. “No promises.” “Chloe.” “I know your sister now.” “You knew her before.” “True. But now I know you're her brother.”

“That makes it worse,” Steve said. “Much,” Chloe agreed. Steve shook his head. “I hate all of you.” “You've known us four hours.” “Longest four hours of my life.” “You stayed.” “That proves nothing.” “You had two beers,” Chloe reminded him. “Circumstantial.”

“You ordered mozzarella sticks,” Chloe continued. “Financially responsible.” “You joined our group chat.” “Against my will.” “You're coming back next Friday.” “I said maybe.” Chloe smiled. Steve stared at her. She waited. He sighed.

“Probably,” Steve admitted. “Probably?” Chloe repeated. “Don't tell Tori.” “I tell Tori everything.” “Jesus Christ.” Chloe laughed again. Then, after a moment: “Goodnight, Steve.” “Goodnight.” He started to get into the car. “Steve?”

He looked back. Chloe stepped closer. Not much. Just enough to make him notice. His brain, traitorously, supplied several pieces of information at once. Her perfume. Her mouth. The fact that she'd been flirting with him earlier. The fact that she knew now. The fact that she had not flirted with him quite the same way since.

The fact that he was thinking about this far too much. Chloe reached up. For a second he thought she might kiss him, and his thoughts promptly abandoned him. Then she pulled Dennis from his shirt pocket. Steve stared. Chloe held the napkin accountant between two fingers. “You almost stole Maddie's financial advisor.” Steve exhaled. “Jesus Christ.” Chloe's mouth twitched.

“Were you nervous?” Chloe asked. “No.” “Okay,” she said. “Don't do Brittney's okay.” “I don't know Brittney's okay.” “You will.” That came out more naturally than Steve expected. He'd said you will as though meeting again were already settled.

Chloe seemed to hear it too. Her smile softened. Chloe stepped a little closer, her hand settling against Steve's chest for a moment. He noticed her face, not the faint movement of her fingers against his shirt pocket. “Next Friday.” Steve opened his mouth. Closed it. “Goodnight, Chloe,” Steve said. “Goodnight, Steve.” He got into the Mini.

Closed the door. Started the engine. Chloe walked back toward Blush. Steve watched her for approximately three seconds. Four. Five. Then caught himself. “This is ridiculous.” He put the car in reverse. His phone buzzed before he'd reached the exit. At the red light, he looked.

Blush Witness Protection

Maddie: CHLOE HAS DENNIS

Nat: hostage situation

Tori: He is a napkin.

Sofia: Steve get home safe

Chloe: Thanks for coming tonight.

Steve looked at the message. He could simply react to it. Thumbs-up. Efficient. Complete. Instead he typed.

Steve: I had fun.

He stared at the words. That was an admission. A dangerous one. He couldn't unsend it without making a production out of something simple. Before he could reconsider, Chloe replied.

Chloe: Me too.

Nat: OH MY GOD HE HAD FUN

Steve: I fucking hate this group.

Maddie: Love you too, Steve.

Sofia: We're glad you came.

Nat: WE'RE KEEPING HIM

Tori: You can leave at any time.

Steve stared at Tori's message. He almost dismissed it as a lawyer's habit. She'd offered him an exit, and he wasn't sure what to say to that. His thumb rested above the keyboard. Then another message from Tori appeared.

Tori: Please don't.

Steve went still. Tori had asked him to stay. He read her words again, suddenly less certain that she was merely being lawyerly. He hadn't expected her to say please. Before he could answer, Maddie chimed in.

Maddie: next friday!!!

Sofia: Next Friday. We'd love to see you again.

Nat: TINY ENGINEER FRIDAY

Steve: Do not call me that.

Chloe: See you Friday?

Steve sat at the red light with the phone in his hand. The signal changed. Someone behind him honked. “Fuck.” He put the phone down and drove. Two blocks later, at another light, he picked it up again. Five names were waiting on the screen. He typed:

Steve: Probably.

He sent it. His answer looked safe on the screen. Probably was a perfectly accurate answer, and he had no intention of surrendering it now. It ought to have been sufficient. He could have left the conversation there. Then, because his judgment had completely failed:

Steve: What time?

He hit send. His thumb hovered over the keyboard. For once, he had asked a question without leaving himself an escape clause. The group chat came alive again. The responses arrived before the light turned green.

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