He gripped her hand. “No matter what.”
Lark was dozing on the couch when Trip finally arrived. Caught off guard, she hadn’t even cleared away the Styrofoam clamshell of tofu pad thai, hadn’t brushed her teeth, and certainly hadn’t stripped down to fur hat and boots. Some surprise she was turning out to be.
Fortunately, Trip looked delighted to see her. He crossed the room and settled into the couch next to her, then drew her in for a lingering kiss that allowed her to taste the beer he’d been drinking.
“Surprised?” she said after they broke it off.
“Completely,” he confessed. Despite his obvious happiness, he looked tired. His eyes didn’t quite have their usual sparkle.
She pushed a stray lock of hair back from his forehead. “I’m sorry if it’s bad timing.”
“And I’m sorry I wasn’t free,” he said. “If there was any way I could have gotten out of it—”
Now she put her finger on his lips. “Let’s both stop apologizing.”
He grinned. “So when I tell you I’m too tired to go back out, I should be completely unrepentant?”
“Exactly.”
While they watched TV, Lark rubbed Trip’s shoulders until she realized he was asleep. The evening hadn’t gone in any way like she’d planned, but there was still something comforting about being in Chicago, at Trip’s place, warm and cozy while the cold wind howled outside. She liked watching him sleep and realized she almost never had the opportunity: on the West Coast, in her time zone, he always woke up hours before she did.
Eventually she faced a dilemma: cover him up on the couch or wake him up and take him to bed? With a warm flush, she realized how she could make the evening memorable after all. With Chicago’s glowing night sky behind her, she undressed slowly, watching Trip’s chest rise and fall. Then she climbed on the couch, straddled him, and began to give him something to dream about.
Sunday morning, Trip seemed refreshed as he took her to breakfast. As they walked through the Loop, she loved the way the L cars clattered overhead on ancient-looking iron tracks, the way Chicagoans leaned into the wind and moved with grim determination. Weather makes a difference in people, she thought. No wonder Trip was such a force of nature.
His phone buzzed several times during breakfast, each time chipping away at his calm.
“I’m sorry,” he said, picking it up to send a quick message. “One of the businesses I invested in is cratering, and the other major backer is losing his shit.”
“Aren’t you worried?” she asked, suddenly concerned that it might also be bad news for Trip.
He shrugged. “Some of my investments are high risk, which is why I’m extremely diversified. High risk, high reward—but they can’t all be winners.”
“What about Activate!—is that high risk?”
Trip pushed his plate aside, reached across the table, and took her hand. Looking into her eyes, he said: “That is what I’d call a blue-chip investment.”
Unfortunately, the other investor wouldn’t be calmed and demanded a lunch meeting. Looking truly crestfallen, Trip assured her it shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours—his partner in this particular venture lived in Chicago, and they would be meeting at an office nearby. Not wanting to add any more pressure on Trip, Lark tried not to let her disappointment show and promised him she’d be fine on her own.
“I’ll call you the moment I’m free,” he promised. “And then we’ll really have some fun.”
And then he was out the door, leaving her to contemplate the remains of their meal and ponder what to do with her morning.
Jessica woke up and searched online until she found a florist with Sunday hours. She drove halfway across the city to be there when the door opened. After the friendly clerk made his way behind the counter, she asked for a “cool apology arrangement for a guy.” She’d let her emotions get the best of her and had to make amends.
He reappeared with an arrangement of white roses, peruvian lilies, blue delphinium, baby’s breath, seeded eucalyptus, and assorted greenery.
It couldn’t have been more perfect.
On the card she wrote:
Jon,
I hope it went OK last night. It’s important to me that you are there for your kids when they need you and I feel badly for suggesting you should have been with me instead of them. I’m sorry.
I love you,
Jessie
She got home, set the arrangement on the kitchen counter, and went upstairs to use the computer while she waited for him. He’d told her he would be there no later than ten forty-five, which gave her just enough time to answer a few emails before he arrived. She triaged her in-box and was unsubscribing her personal account from a Phoenix gym’s promotions list when a new work email popped up.
From: Marco Ruiz
Subject: Your mission, should you choose to accept it
Before she could read it, Jon’s keys jangled in the front door. She quickly slid back from the computer so he wouldn’t see her, but she could watch through the interior glass window overlooking the living room as he entered the apartment.
Not having spoken or texted with him since last night, Jessica felt nervous as he dropped his keys on the table in the entry hall and stepped into the kitchen. He looked puzzled until he recognized his name on the card. Then an expression she couldn’t identify clouded his face, making her wish she’d had the presence of mind to apologize as quickly as he had after his one travel-weary loss of temper.
The cloud passed as quickly as it appeared, however, and he looked up and smiled broadly.
“You know,” he said, his voice loud enough to be heard anywhere in the apartment. “No one’s ever gotten me flowers before.”
“Maybe no one’s ever needed to,” she said, coming out of the office and putting her hands on the railing. “I was such a jackass.”
“Don’t talk about yourself that way,” he said. “I could never be so patient if the tables were turned.”
“Forgive me?”
“There’s nothing
