At certain times, they’d been more than that to each other, much more. The occasional romps in college, the wild night here and there in their late twenties and early thirties when her moviemaking schedule crossed over with his music journalism schedule. They could spend a night or two as lovers and leave in the morning as friends. But now in their sixties, with the addition of children and a spouse in their lives, there was none of that heat left. Well, almost none. There were times when a glance from Simon or the sound of him saying her name could generate a flash of desire through Alexa. Still, even after decades of shared experiences with him, she still had the sense that Simon Fox was hiding something.

As for Simon, he loved his effect on her and leaned into their history when appropriate. “You know, the only secret I have left in my life is you and that trip to Glastonbury in eighty-seven.”

Oh, she remembered that weekend. Alexa had been in London for work, her first trip back since moving to California, and had a few days to kill between meetings. Simon was still scrambling for regular writing assignments and thought a blockbuster recap of the underfunded music festival might lead to a breakthrough. New Order was headlining so they decided to be goths for the weekend and hit the road. What she remembered was the mud, the dirty tent with no real privacy, and the gallons of cheap retsina they traded for food and clove cigarettes. And the nights, of course. “Do not mention Glastonbury tomorrow around the in-laws-to-be!”

“Pity. From what you’ve told me, I’m sure they are huge New Order fans. How dull,” Simon quipped. “Speaking of dull, I’m trying to secure a distributor here in the States for our hard cider. And our new hard seltzer, sort of a rummy apple soda. Really turning up the British charm in a meeting with alleged mobsters. Did you know the entire beverage distribution system in the US is run by the Mafia out of a warehouse in Brooklyn? Very strange. Anyhow, I’ve been up to nothing more nefarious than that.”

“I don’t believe you,” Alexa teased.

“If I was here meeting some paramour, would I have asked you to stay with me in the apartment? Or have agreed to go to the country to meet the new in-laws? Of course not! I’d be shacked up with somebody scandalous and have no time for you, my dear confidant.” Simon made adultery sound like Shakespeare.