“You’re not on the blacklist,” I tell her, because starting there seems easier than trying to dissect the more complicated emotions rising in my chest. “In fact, Anastasios Martis wants to meet with you later this week.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“It’s not.” I try to reassure her, even though I’m not entirely certain about this myself. “That was him on the phone just now. He was asking me to set up a meeting with you.”

“Hmm.” She narrows her eyes skeptically. “When?”

“Whenever you’re available.”

Her arms lift from the sides of her body, as if they’re encompassing the entirety of her life. “As you can see, I’m completely booked, but I suppose I can squeeze something in,” she says with a healthy dose of skepticism. Then, she grows serious. “Maybe the end of the week? Or early next week? I’d like to get some shit together first, if you think that’d be okay.”

“I think that’d be fine,” I say gently. “And I’ll be there. I’m not sure if that’s reassuring or not, but—”

“It is,” she cuts me off before flashing me a half smile. “I’m glad you’ll be there for me.”

I’ll always be there for you, I want to say, but I don’t. I’ve crossed enough lines today. Instead, I grab her jacket from the hook next to the door and help her into it. “Let’s get your prescription, and then I want to read this next draft of yours.”

She shrugs into her jacket and pulls her hair loose from the collar. The dark strands fall over the green vinyl of her windbreaker. “You do?”

I jam my hands into my pockets in a feeble attempt to resist running my fingers over the loose ends of her hair. “Of course I do. I already told you I’ll read anything you write. Always.”

It feels like an admission, and the words hang between us. But when Scarlett smiles, it’s like a rainbow after the rain. And as we ride the elevator down from her apartment and step out into the spring sunshine, everything feels better. Lighter.

It doesn’t even matter that we aren’t together anymore. I’ll do anything to make her smile like that again. For as long as she’ll let me.

Chapter 20

Scarlett

“Do you want me to come with you?” Trina sounds distracted, even though she was the one who called me this morning before my scheduled meeting with Anastasios Martis at his office. It’s still unclear if she called to make sure I get my ass out the door or to ask—yet again—what this meeting is even about.