Cora looked at the tall palm trees lining the road while he chatted away, wishing traffic were heavier. Maybe there would be a horrible accident, and they wouldn’t make it to the studio in time. Wouldn’t that be too bad? Then she’d have to stay in his state-of-the-art Land Rover with him and his cologne and his thick, curly black hair that she also really wanted to touch. And he’d paid for her new hair, he probably wanted to touch his investment, make sure it was properly . . . being hair. Maybe it would get too hot, and he’d take off his blazer and she’d have to hold it for him, and she’d have to smell the cologne on his blazer. Wouldn’t that be terrible.

“All right, yes,” Kaveh continued, by now using his Bluetooth. “Well, let me know if you need anything.” Pause. “Yep, I miss you, too. I’ll see you . . . one of these days.” He laughed a genuine, heartfelt laugh. “Yeah, I know. Okay, bye.” He took his Bluetooth out of his ear. “Okay, I think that’s it. She was pretty chatty since we hadn’t talked in a while.”

Cora was suddenly possessed with a desire for him to laugh heartfelt laughs at things she said, jokes she made, and with jealousy at whoever he’d been talking to. She hated herself for the question she was about to ask. “Girlfriend?”

“No, not girlfriend,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road. “More like . . . a colleague. I helped Paris get her job at The New Yorker, but she’s become one of my best friends over the last couple of years.”

This surprised Cora. Did he not have a girlfriend? If so, why not? Ignoring the fact that he was so charming and, well, nice, he was rich, and successful, and he was good-looking. Objectively, he was good-looking, she could admit that, in an offbeat quirky way, more a character actor than a leading man.

“And you never dated?”

He chuckled. “She doesn’t like the D.”

“Your D, or D in general?”

“In general.” He smiled knowingly. “Why, are you interested?”

“I feel like I’d have to meet her first.”

“I seem to recall you mentioning a girlfriend at some point.”

Said “girlfriend” had up until this point been her only real relationship that had lasted for more than two months, but how to gracefully telegraph that she wasn’t only interested in girls? “Yeah, college relationship. Ended badly. Not like my high school boyfriend.”

Smooth.

“Well, nonstarter; she’s taken. She’s dating this Broadway stage manager.”

“How do you know her?”

“Well, she became a mentee of sorts a few years ago, but then I had a phase that was very embarrassing.” His demeanor changed, the jovial veneer thinning. “Right after my brother died.”

“I’m sorry. How did he die?”