He spoke with so much enthusiasm, so much passion. She hadn’t expected that. She’d thought he’d give her a much more politic answer, but that had been an honest one.

“Do you know what I really miss?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Tell me.”

He gestured to the traffic in front of them.

“Driving.” He sounded wistful. “Even just sitting alone in L.A. traffic. God, I miss it so much.” He laughed. “Sorry, I sound like a poor little rich boy right now, don’t I? Complaining that someone else drives me around all the time and I get to relax.”

Olivia shook her head again.

“No, I understand what you mean. I always felt that way when I went home from New York and drove my parents’ or my sister’s car somewhere—the time alone with your thoughts driving a car is different than walking down the street, or sitting on a bus, or standing on the subway.” She grinned. “And there’s absolutely nothing that compares to driving on a California freeway on a sunny day, blasting music with the windows wide open.”

He turned and smiled at her.

“Isn’t that the truth?”

He glanced down at the GPS and made another left turn.

“Is this your street?”

She nodded. She suddenly couldn’t wait to get him inside.

“It’s right over there.”

She gestured to the small house she’d rented. She’d been determined to live in a real house, after living in an apartment for so long. She no longer had upstairs or downstairs neighbors. It was strange and wonderful.

He pulled into her empty driveway and took off his seat belt.

“I’ll just walk you to the door.”

Oh, okay, sure, he would just “walk her to the door.” She smiled to herself. She knew bullshit when she heard it, and that was some bullshit, all right.

As he opened his door, his phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket.

“I’m sorry, I thought my phone was on do not disturb, let me just …” He glanced at the screen and grimaced. “I’m sorry, I have to take this.”

After a minute or so, he jumped out of the car, but left the door open.

“Hey—I’m sorry, I have to run, there’s something I have to deal with and it can’t wait.”

She also knew this kind of bullshit when she heard it.

“Sure, of course,” she said, when what she wanted to do was ask him why the fuck he’d led her on for hours just to blow her off.

She walked up to her front door, expecting him to just jump back in his car and drive away. But instead he walked beside her and waited for her to unlock the door.

“Thanks for tonight, it was great,” he said. He patted her on the shoulder and turned to race back to his car.