For a moment, though, she let her hand stay where it was, resting on her hip. Eyes still closed, she tried to bring his image into focus, even as she tried to embrace her memory of the later portion of the evening. She didn’t know where she was, not really. She managed to figure out that she was in a relatively new apartment building, and she figured it was probably in Riverdale. But she couldn’t be sure of that. He might have had a car, and he might have brought her almost anywhere. Westchester County, say.
Bits and pieces of memory hovered at the edge of thought. Shreds of small talk, but how could she know what was from last night and what was bubbling up from past evenings? Sense impressions: a male voice, a male touch on her upper arm.
She’d recognize him if she opened her eyes. She couldn’t picture him, not quite, but she’d know him when her eyes had a chance to refresh her memory.
Not yet.
She reached out a hand, touched him.
She had just registered the warmth of his skin when he spoke.
“Sleeping beauty,” he said.
Her eyes snapped open, wide open, and her pulse raced.
“Easy,” he said. “My God, you’re terrified, aren’t you? Don’t be. Everything’s all right.”
He was lying on his side facing her. And yes, she recognized him. Dark hair, arresting blue eyes under arched brows, a full-lipped mouth, a strong jawline. His nose had been broken once and imperfectly reset, and that saved him from being male-model handsome.
Late thirties, maybe eight or ten years her senior. A good body. A little chest hair, but not too much. Broad shoulders. A stomach flat enough to show a six-pack of abs.
No wonder she’d left the bar with him.
And she remembered leaving the bar. They’d walked, so she was probably in Riverdale. Unless they’d walked to his car. Could she remember any more?
“You don’t remember, do you?”
Reading her mind. And how was she supposed to answer that one?
She tried for an ironic smile. “I’m a little fuzzy,” she said.
“I’m not surprised.”
“Oh?”
“You were hitting the Cosmos pretty good. I had the feeling, you know, that you might be in a blackout.”
“Really? What did I do?”
“Nothing they’d throw you in jail for.”
“Well, that’s a relief.”
“You didn’t stagger or slur your words, and you were able to form complete sentences. Grammatical ones too.”
“The nuns would be proud of me.”
“I’m sure they would. Except…”
“Except they wouldn’t like to see me waking up in a strange bed.”
“I’m not sure how liberal they’re getting these days,” he said. “That wasn’t what I was going to say.”
“Oh.”
“You didn’t know where you were, did you? When you opened your eyes.”
“Not right away.”
“Do you know now?”
“Well, sure,” she said. “I’m here. With you.”
“Do you know where
Should she make something up? Or would the truth be easier?
“I don’t remember getting in a car,” she said, “and I do remember walking, so my guess is we’re in Riverdale.”
“But it’s a guess.”
“Well, couldn’t we call it an educated guess? Or at least an informed one?”
“Either way,” he said, “it’s right. We walked here, and we’re in Riverdale.”
“So I got that one right. But why wouldn’t the nuns be proud of me?”
“Forget the nuns, okay?”
“They’re forgotten.”
“Look, I don’t want to get preachy. And it’s none of my business. But if you’re drinking enough to leave big gaps in your memory, well, how do you know who you’re going home with?”
