Page 43 of Friends to WHAT?!

It’s been five days since Amia and I ran into her in the grocery store—six since I tucked Leora into bed with a note, a glass of water, and a bottle of hangover salvation.

When I left my number with her, it was in an in-case-of-emergency type of way, but I can’t say I haven’t been checking my phone every day, several times a day, in hopes that she might contact me through it.

My messages app has remained sadly Leora-free, boasting only the family group chat, messages from Sterne, and an absurd amount of unsaved numbers belonging to clients, potential and return alike.

But now, I have a letter. A beautiful, sea-green letter that will look absolutely gorgeous against my office wall. I think I’ll frame it with the letter open and the envelope behind it, peeking out from the top corner. She filled the missive with such beautiful words, it would be a shame to keep them tucked away.

You parent how I wish I would have been parented and how I hope to one day parent my own child. The way you handled Amia at Rory’s was beautiful. Firm, but loving. And it didn’t hit me until later, but when she found me and I had a little freak out about her running off from you, she told me that she was happy I was getting on to her, because that means I love her—just like how you get on to her because you love her. It’s abeautiful thing to have a child be both disciplined and loved, and aware of each. You’ve done a good job, Wolfe. You’redoinga good job.

My heart squeezes just thinking about it, and so does my hand.

“Hey, man, that’s my skin you’re pinching,” Warren Hale, brother to October’s esteemed mayor, says, regaining my attention. Attention he should not have ever lost, considering I am currentlystabbing him with a needle some thousand odd times or so.

I curse, pulling my tattoo gun away from his pinched skin, and apologize.

“That’s okay,” he says. “I don’t mind the pain, but I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to be stretching it, not squishing it. And if I’m going to be in pain, it might as well be from the needle, you know?”

I do, indeed, know.

I apologize again, and he suggests we take a short break. “I’m hungry anyway, and the diner is having a special on reubens. I’ll swing by and grab us both one. Some food would do us good.”

I set my gun down on the plastic-wrapped rolling cart beside me and nod. “That would be great, Warren. Thank you.”

I wrap his partially-tattooed arm in a temporary bandage for when he’s out in germville, then take the opportunity while he’s gone to stretch and check my phone. Just in case.

Consider meflabbergastedwhen I unlock the device to messages from an unknown number.

My lungs cease proper functioning, and I wheeze as I open the message.

Unknown:Hi. It’s Leora, your pen pal, and… uh… Leora.

Unknown:Are you at work right now?

My fingers tremble as I compose a response, and I have to draft it four times before all of the typos are finally gone. I read it twice, assure myself it sounds perfectly normal and fine and not desperate at all, then hit send.

My gut roils when it reads “Delivered,” then, immediately, “Read.”

Wolfe:Hello, my pen pal, and my… Leora. I’m glad you found my number, and especially glad you’ve decided to use it. I am at work right now. My client is taking a break, then we have a couple more hours on his sleeve. Why? Did you want to see me?

I gulp, and profanity spills from my lips in a regretful wave.Notdesperate. Right. Sure. Just like the moon isnotbig.

Bubbles appear as Leora starts her reply.

I don’t breathe. I don’t move. I don’tblink.

Unknown:I can’t tonight, but if you want to take some pictures of the whiteboards in your office for me right now, we can meet at the bar tomorrow and discuss your progress. I need to review the boards first, though. Hence the photos. That you’re going to get. For me. Right now. Right? I need them to paste in my journal so I can give them a proper review and still stay portable.

Right. But also…

Wolfe:How much “progress” do you think I’ve had? Out of curiosity?

I know at least once she’s declared a con could be crossed off the list, but I’m not sure if I’ve done anything else to earn her praise. And if this meeting is only going to be more of the pummeling I got when the whiteboards came to fruition…

Oh, who am I kidding. I’ll still show up. If Leora is there, I willalwaysshow up.

While I’m adding her to my contact list, she replies.

Darling Starling:We’ll talk about it tomorrow night. 9:00 sharp.