Page 141 of ClickBack

She looks up at me, pleased in a way that makes me want to tell her more than I should on a sidewalk. I stop beside the car and kiss her instead. She comes closer, her purse pressing between us until she moves it out of the way.

When I let her go, she keeps hold of my shirt.

“Next month is supposed to be a comedy.”

“Get two tickets.”

“We don’t know where you’ll be.”

“I know where I want to sit.”

She looks at me for a moment, then takes out her phone to check the date.

Nearly two weeks later, on the Thursday Rae flies to Charlotte, Giselle calls while I’m at the kitchen counter answering Cam’s messages.

“I have twenty minutes before my next meeting,” she says. “You wanted to talk?”

“Saturday. Gallery event, then dinner. I’m picking you up at six.”

“What gallery?”

I give her the address and the time of the dinner reservation. “There’s an artist I want you to see. Can I keep that part?”

“That part, yes. What do I wear?”

“Something I can behave around for a few hours.”

“So I should bring a coat.”

“It’s August.”

“Then you should bring some discipline.”

I laugh and push Cam’s messages out of view. “I’m wearing a jacket. It’s indoors. You won’t have to walk far. Dinner’s at the Four Seasons.”

“See? Useful information.”

“Put it in your calendar.”

“I’m doing that. I was also planning to finish some work Saturday.”

“Six too early?”

“No. Six tells me when to stop.”

I look toward the painting above the credenza. One night last week she stood in front of it with a glass of wine, moving to one side and then the other. I had asked what she was doing. She said the man’s expression kept changing, and I had watched her try to catch him at it.

She didn’t ask what I paid for it. She didn’t ask whether it was somebody famous. Before she left, she went back for another look.

“Jarrett?”

“Right here.”

“You coming over tonight?”

“After your last meeting.”

“I’ll send you the dinner order. Rae has sent six pictures of a rental house she has not applied for in a city where she does not have a job yet. I need somebody here who won’t tell me to be supportive before I’ve complained.”