“In a way.” Imani chuckled to show she was being somewhat facetious. “And whether a couple should stay together is that love calculation minus the anticipated pain and loneliness of leaving plus the possibility of finding love in the future, which is its own equation based on temperament and age.”

“And Tinder,” Melissa added.

Imani giggled while listing more things that might aid in finding a new lover. Botulism. Green juice. Money. Older children. “Therapy!” she shouted. “Lots and lots of therapy.”

Melissa had guffawed, immediately covering her mouth with her long, slender fingers. She’d palmed her wineglass and begun tapping a nail against the goblet, creating soft pings like windchimes. “Love is something best left unexamined, I think. I mean, I’m not exactly sure why I love Nate. Sometimes I believe it’s because I thought he was sexy and more established in Hollywood than me, and everyone else seemed to want him. Sometimes I suppose it’s because he gave me Ava. Sometimes I figure it’s because we’ve simply gotten used to each other. I mean, he makes me laugh, occasionally. I admire his creativity. I still find him handsome. But I’m impressed with a lot of people’s creativity and looks.” She sighed. “I guess Nate’s just been in the background for so long that I can’t imagine him not there.”

Imani had watched Melissa sip from her glass, feeling suddenly sad. Thanks to the restaurant, Philip was also in the background of her life. The people involved in her day-to-day activities were her children and her clients. Melissa. Perhaps the school. When was the last time she and Philip had enjoyed a deep conversation? Imani had asked herself. Or engaged in more than perfunctory sex?

She’d taken a gulp from her own glass. “So, love is a lack of imagination. I should tell my patients.”

Melissa had reached out, placing her hand over Imani’s knuckles. “Not love,” she’d said. “Staying.”

“Hello, this is Glen Kelner. With whom am I speaking?”

The abrupt question snapped Imani from her reverie. “This is Imani Banks. I’m a dear friend of Melissa Walker.”

“And why are you calling me?”

“I understand that you were handling some of the Walkers’ affairs, and I wanted to better understand what they were so that I can help take care of Ava.”

“Mr. Walker’s will and testament was provided to his parents, who I understand are caring for Ava. Ms. Walker’s affairs, like the affairs of all clients, are privileged. Good—”

“Wait!” Imani shouted. Her lie had backfired. “Please. I’m Melissa’s friend, and I’m very worried about her. I’m sure you know that she is missing, and the police seem more concerned with pinning Nate’s death on her than her safety. If she was divorcing her husband, their suspicions will only get worse, and—”

“I am not a divorce attorney, Ms. Banks.”