“You have good locks on these doors, Natalie?” he asks, twisting the doorknobs, testing the lock.

“That’s a strange question.”

He turns back to me. “You’re an attractive, young girl living alone in the city.”

“Woman. Not girl. And I can take care of myself.” His face tells me he believes otherwise, and I get that. Because last night didn’t exactly make my case.

“The locks?” he asks again, ignoring my comment.

“They’re fine.”

He walks out of the house but turns back like he’s about to say something. His phone rings this time and he steps out, but before answering, he mouths for me to lock the door.

My mind is still in a daze when I get to the coffee shop to meet Drew the next afternoon. I walk inside to find him waiting for me at our usual table. He makes a show of checking his watch and I do the same on my new phone.

“I’m barely seven minutes late,” I say, setting my purse down and pulling out a chair.

“Oh, nice,” he says, taking the phone from me and looking at it. “What happened to your old one?” He sets it down. The phone, a rose gold, came ready to go and had one phone number programmed in it. Sergio Benedetti’s.

No strings my ass.

“Long story,” I say, not wanting to lie. Drew’s my best friend. I’ve known him since I was a kid and we even dated through senior year of high school. But he was always more into boys than girls. Him coming out to me was the same day we broke up and I just remember feeling so happy for him that he knew, really knew, and was deciding to no longer hide it.

He was supposed to go to the warehouse with me, but canceled at the last minute. I’m glad now that he wasn’t there.

“Rough night?” he asks.

“Is it obvious?” I wave to Mandy at the bar. I work here, and I pretty much never deviate from my double shot cappuccino, so she gives me a nod to let me know she’s already working on it.

“Only because I know you. You went to that warehouse, didn’t you? I told you to wait for me.”

“I don’t really want to talk about it.” And I don’t want to think about how things could have gone if he was there.

“Did something happen?”

Mandy calls out my name and I go to the coffee bar, grab my drink and hand her a $5 bill. “Thanks.” Back at the table, I take a sip. “Can I ask you a question?”

His eyebrows rise. “Sounds serious.”

“It is. Do you know a man named Sergio Benedetti?”

Drew all but spits out his coffee. “Benedetti?” he asks too loudly.