“I’m supposed to stop by my brother’s to drop something off for a charity auction my sister-in-law is putting together. If I don’t do it now I won’t have a chance until Sunday.”

“So do it Sunday,” I press, adding a slight note of pleading to my voice.

He looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to explain the urgency. When I don’t, he chuckles. “You are a study in contradictions, aren’t you? Running away from me one moment and then demanding my immediate attention the next.” He lowers the partition between us and the driver. “Change of plans, Roger. We’re not stopping yet. Take us on a scenic tour, will you?”

“A scenic tour?” the driver asks, keeping his eyes on the street.

“Yeah, you pick the route.”

I flash him a grateful smile before turning to look out tinted windows as Lander sends a quick text to his brother, postponing the drop-off. Pedestrians stare at the car, but they can’t see who’s inside. Limos are so funny that way. They’re one of the most conspicuous vehicles on the street and yet when you’re inside one you’re completely invisible, isolated from the outside world. You’re literally living in a bubble, if only for the space of a commute.

“So getting back to last night,” he says. “You left without saying good-bye.” His tone is teasing but there’s a hint of a deeper emotion there. Not anger . . . more like concern.

For some reason that rubs me the wrong way.

“I told you, you were sleeping heavily. It seemed criminal to wake you.”

“Now, there’s an interesting choice of words,” he muses.

I give him a quick sidelong glance, but he doesn’t take the bait.

“I don’t know why I was so tired last night,” he continues. The car rolls past his brother’s building. I keep my face arranged in an impassive expression, careful not to give away that I know the place.

“Perhaps,” I say, stretching my legs across the spacious limo floor, “I wore you out.”

“Not an entirely unreasonable explanation.” But he doesn’t sound like he means it.

He’s beginning to make me nervous. “How long are we going to be driving, Lander?”

“Oh, I don’t know, long enough to get some answers.”

“You can’t interrogate me in a bar like a normal person?”

“I prefer the quiet of the limo,” he says with a shrug. “Why aren’t you working at the bar anymore?”

“I wasn’t happy there.”

“I did offer to help you find something else.”

“Yes, well, I didn’t need your help. That job I just interviewed for? I got it. I landed something better in less than a day.”

“Did you? Well, I suppose it wouldn’t take much. And why did you disappear on me?”

“I just told you . . .”

“Yes, but I’d like the real reason now.”