There was no answer for it that wasn’t smart-alecky, and she wasn’t feeling it at the moment. She nodded.

“He’s talked about you. Nice things.”

That feeling of NO! launched from where it lived now, somewhere right under the hollow of her throat. John hadn’t said any such thing. This guy didn’t even try to make it ring true. He wasn’t very good at making people comfortable, but he didn’t care. That was obvious. One step back, one little lie, and she’d bet everything she had that he had already run out of concern with how comfortable she was.

Carly’s mom came into the hallway behind her. The man lit up just a little, but well in control of his response to her mother’s face and everything else she had. Most men didn’t catch their reaction so fast. Carly felt her eyebrows go up in spite of herself, impressed. But the man noticed Carly’s assessment of him and she looked quickly to the floor.

“Can I help you?” her mother said, sliding a warm hand onto Carly’s shoulder.

“I was just looking for Jonathan. We were supposed to meet up, and Carly here says I’ve missed him.”

Carly’s mother pulled the door a little wider to stand fully next to her and take up most of the rest of the doorway. “I’m sorry, have we met?”

Carly fought her eyebrows this time. No one didn’t remember meeting this guy. The man flicked his eyes to Carly’s face again, ready to catch her taking the measure of that one, a small spark of humor in his eyes like a dare to be in on it with him. He knew what she was thinking, teased her about it in a glance as if it were okay for him to do that, but it went cold in her.

He put out his hand. “I’m Owen. Jonathan and I worked together a while back.”

Why does he keep calling him Jonathan? It’s just John.

Her mother and Owen shook hands, and a rush of warning swept over Carly. Her mother handled this fine. She was cool and calm in her personal space, in her words and gestures, but that’s not all there was. That’s never all there was. Carly felt small and not strong and too aware of where they were standing, knowing that luck was a thing that sometimes happened and sometimes didn’t. A crawly wave slipped through her middle and up under her shoulder blades. It didn’t match at all the polite smiles and the blue sky and the little bit of familiar street that she could see around Mount Owen.

“I’m Donna. And, yeah, I hate to say it, but you did just miss him. He left maybe ten minutes ago.”