“Liza, you okay? Did you eat too much butter chicken? Anyway, he told his friend to get a grip and recognize when he’s being played. I cannot stress to you how trash this woman’s family was. The stories I heard, Liza.” Park took the cup Liza was holding and placed it in Chicho’s sink. “He probably saved that young man’s life. That’s the kind of dude Dorsey is.”

“That is exactly the kind of man he is.” Liza’s tone had a sharpness to it.

Park checked his phone. “Dorsey and I keep missing each other. I gotta head out, but he’s headed here.” Park squeezed her shoulders and smiled.

Liza got up to put her plate away. She dropped it in the sink with apparently too much force and the delicate plate smashed to pieces all over the sink and countertop.

“Colin and I are going to a benefit dinner. Do you want to come?”

“After all of this butter chicken? I’m going to burst,” Liza quipped. “I’m just gonna sit here and nurse my food baby instead.” What she was really nursing was a simmering anger at Dorsey’s nerve that only expanded for the rest of the day.

It was nearly two hours later when she heard a tentative knock at the door. She opened it to find Dorsey filling up the doorway with a confused look and a lopsided grin. He had dark circles under his eyes and his hand shook with a tiny cup of espresso. Did he even sleep last night?

“Oh my god, Liza.” Dorsey tumbled past the threshold. “Every waking thought of mine has been from last night. I see you in everything that I do. I feel you.”

“Dorsey . . .”

“I know. It’s completely insane, right? Everything in me says to leave you alone. Your family is well . . . They would always draw negative attention.” Dorsey laughed out loud, manic with his own confession.

All he needed was a corkboard with red yarn and thumbtacks. Was he trying to explain a conspiracy theory or tell her he loved her?

“Everything about you and me does not work on paper. You know what it’s like? It’s like one of those bad reality TV shows you swear you will not watch and then you’re so hooked and you actually love it. I . . . I actually love you.” Dorsey seemed to marvel at the words coming out of his mouth. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. She smelled strong coffee and cigarette smoke on his breath.

“Dorsey, I—” Liza started.

“You brought me to my knees last night, Liza. And I want to wake up with you in my arms.” His voice rumbled over her, and she hated herself for the effect it had.