When it came time to have sex, Sherri didn’t ask Mitch to use a condom. It was so embarrassing, she thought, remembering how put off Sam had been. She’d be fine; what were the odds? With Frank and Sam, Sherri had felt like a rabbit who’d wandered into a trap. Mitch was different because she’d gone after him. She thought the sex would be better, more exciting, and it was, but not by a lot. After, she’d lie in bed and listen to Mitch snore, wondering if she’d done everything right.

In the mornings, rumpled and messy, they’d drink coffee on the porch overlooking the pool. Mitch wore his cool gold-rimmed aviator sunglasses. When Sherri looked at him, she saw only her own reflection in the metallic orange surface, which made her think that she was the only person in his world. He was her closest encounter with the kind of real man she was dying to meet. Mitch was handsome, traveled, successful, interesting, and remote.

“Are you as happy as I am?” she asked him one morning, playfully nibbling his earlobe—even his earlobes seemed perfect and clean. “Tell me how happy you are.”

“So happy,” he said. He stood up abruptly and went into the bathroom and stayed behind the closed door for almost an hour. If he was that happy, she thought, wouldn’t he want to spend every last second with her, because he knew their time together was fleeting? She wanted to say something about this and thought about the actual words she might use to express herself, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized she wasn’t really in a position to talk with him as though they were close, even if they’d been naked together. She wished she could leapfrog from just getting to know him to being his actual girlfriend.

After wasting her money on two nights on a hotel room she’d never used, it was time for Sherri to fly back home. That third morning, Mitch dropped her off at the Amtrak station to begin her return to the airport.

“I thought you’d give me a ride to Houston in your new car.”

“Wish I could. I’ve got to catch up on some work.”

“Work? What does a stuntman do when he’s not, you know, running into a burning building?” She ran her finger along his nose. “Will you come see me?”

“Sure.” He kissed her, a kiss that felt like a goodbye. “I’ll add Wisconsin to my list of places to visit.”

On the ride back to the airport, Sherri felt funny about Mitch’s aloof manner, and she was nervous that she’d run into Sam. And she did. He was waiting for her at the gate with more roses, yellow this time. Her stomach lurched. “Where’d you go, honey?” He seemed sad. Pathetic, even. Angry.