“Are you all right? Are you not feeling well, is that why you’re leaving? You seem a little . . . distracted.” He glances back at the building behind us. “You never take a day off.”

I tilt my head at him. “Neither do you.”

Maybe there’s a way to spend time with him without the making out. Maybe I can convince him to take a break. He works too hard and maybe I can do something about it. But not now. I should think of something though. There has to be a way to have it all, take care of everyone and everything in one day.

But that day is not today.

I back up. “I’ve got to go.”

“Do you need a ride somewhere?”

“No. I’m fine. Thanks though. Bye, Alex.” I wave and turn and hustle up the street to the pay phone. It’s cab time.

It’s not easy to walk away, to pretend like there’s nothing between us when I’ve memorized his scent, his lips, the feel of his body pressed against mine.

But I can’t think of him now. That way lies madness and obsession.

Once home, I race upstairs, grab the costume from my closet, and then knock on Hugo’s door.

He answers his door like he did the first day, all menacing and stern and I smother a laugh. The man is a grizzly bear on the outside and a teddy bear on the inside.

“Here. You’re going to need this.”

“Who are—?”

I shake the garment at him. “Don’t ask questions, just take it. I’ll be back later.”

Saffron is in the design district, squished between a Starbucks and a nail salon. The interior is all warm colors, reds and oranges. Booths in the front give way to an open seating area near the back. Red hanging tapestry curtains lend the area an exotic but comfortable ambiance.

“Hey.” I find Presley sitting at a small booth near the front. And I’m only slightly sweaty and shaky as I slide into the seat across from her, and that’s mostly from running back and forth across the bay.

“Hey.” Presley hands me a menu with a smile. “I’m glad you came.”

“I’m glad I came too.”

She smiles and nods and I avert my eyes down to the list of entrees.

The restaurant is filled with the clink of silverware on plates, the soft chatter of other patrons. And between us: silence.

Oh no. We’re going to sit here in silence the whole time, and Presley is going to think I’m a total loser and regret ever making an attempt to befriend me.