“I feel like I don’t really know who I’m talking to,” Leah said. “Like there isn’t a real Todd Milstead in there.”

“This is the real me,” Todd said. “Honestly.”

“If you say so.” Leah frowned. “Personally, I find that slightly more worrying.”

Leah left for work a few minutes later without eating the breakfast she’d ordered or having any more sex with Todd. Todd picked at her fruit plate, playing back the events of the evening in his mind. She seduced me, was his first thought, although seduction in Todd’s mind implied wine and dinner at least, not a sudden kiss and a lot of fumbling in a cab. Okay then, she jumped me, he thought. I had no choice but to go with the flow. Todd imagined saying this to Sara. Then he imagined not saying it, and felt better.

Whoever’s fault it was, Todd found the whole thing easy to explain, to himself at least. Yes, he was seeing Sara, but hadn’t he also been seeing Sara when he was living with Janis? And hadn’t Sara been, if not in love with, then at least married to, Terry? What’s sauce for the goose, and so on. Anyway, it was a one-off and he was on the road, and he’d had a really bad day.

By the time he’d finished making a list of reasons why last night had been not only excusable, but fine, Todd was exhausted. He was about to lie back and take a nap when the phone rang.

“This is reception, Mr. Milstead. Checkout is at eleven.”

Todd looked at the clock radio. It was ten forty-five. Fifteen minutes to shower, dress, pack, and eat two breakfasts.

“Okay,” he said, rolled off the bed and got in the shower.

Half an hour later, Todd was back in the Volvo, pulling over into a Tower Records parking lot to consult his itinerary. CHARLENE, INDIANA, it said, PUBLIC LIBRARY. Two o’clock was a weird time for a reading. Todd unfolded his map, found a list of place names, and discovered that Charlene wasn’t there.

An hour later, having purchased a large hardback road atlas, Todd found Charlene. It wasn’t even in the middle of nowhere. It’s on the outskirts of nowhere, thought Todd as he planned his route with a forefinger. He wondered why his publishers had thought it worth sending him here. Maybe it was an important hub for something. Maybe it was a college town. Maybe it was a secret fucking underground city with a population of avid readers. Todd had no idea, but he had a strong feeling that Charlene, Indiana, was one of the universe’s completely insignificant towns.