“That’s not an answer. I want us to have a conversation. A real one.”

“Oh, where are the cameras? The microphones? Who’s documenting this now?”

“Don’t worry about that. I told you. It’s over.”

Behind me, Emily cleared her throat. “Lily, can I remind you about our policy when it comes to dealing with personal matters at work?” Matthew eyed Emily, and I knew he was suppressing a smile. That arrogance, smugness so thick you could feel it, like humidity.

“You need to leave, Matthew.”

“Not until you talk to me.”

“Fine. But I’m working now.”

“Doesn’t look like it.”

Emily, again. “Lily, you need to finish restocking the boutique before the end of your shift. We need to completely remerchandise Face today, Body by the end of the day tomorrow.”

“Stricter than Philip Louis.” Matthew smiled, a smile that contracted a little when I didn’t respond in kind. I knew it was an illusion or a concession. Matthew letting me feel as though I had a little bit of power.

“Meet me over there.” I pointed to the Swim Club. “Eight o’clock.” He looked behind us.

“Oh God, I don’t have to wear a Hawaiian shirt, do I? Or drink anything out of a coconut? I’ve been trying to stifle all of my ‘last resort’ jokes since I’ve been here, but that kind of thing makes it really tough.”

“I’ll see you then,” I said. I thought the Swim Club was cheesy, too, but Matthew mocking it made me angry, suddenly protective. I turned my back and walked away. I couldn’t stand to smell him, to see his teeth, his arms, his neck, his hair. Already I felt my body betraying me, the way I ached for him. I wanted to touch his skin, to kiss all of his fingers. I wanted to slap him as hard as I could.

I went back to the boutique, picked up a palette of eye shadows. Autumn Auburn. Gold Leaf. Hot Cocoa. I started to stack them on a stand, to put away the summer shades that would soon go on clearance: Sandy Beach, Horizon, Caribbean Blue. I wondered if the people who named these colors ever actually experienced seasons, the feelings that they evoked. The melancholy of fall, the stifling claustrophobia of a humid summer, the despair of a long, dark winter.

“So. What’s the deal there?” Emily stood over me. “Here,” she said, handing me one of the metal shopping baskets to put the old products in. “This might help.”

“You heard everything. We’re having a drink. I didn’t know he’d show up.”

“So why see him at all? The guy who screwed some other woman while you were together?”

“I don’t know.”

Skeptical quirk of the eyebrow. She didn’t believe me. “Well, don’t do anything stupid.”

“Like what?”