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That was unusual. This was my table. But here she was, putting the pieces where they belonged like she had been invited.

“That’s my seat,” I said.

She looked up and smiled. “I know. I’m sorry.” She moved to the other side of the table, careful with the pieces. “I was hoping you’d let me sit a while.”

I studied her. Steady hands. Watchful.

“You play?” I asked.

“Badly.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I wanted to meet you.” She slid a pawn forward. e4. “I’m Yasmine.”

“Harry.”

“I know.”

I brought out a knight. She took longer than she needed for her reply. Four moves later, I had her knight in my hand.

“You weren’t lying. You do play badly.”

She laughed. “I warned you.”

“Well. It’s good you admit it,” I said. “Then we can start there.”

“I was hoping you’d teach me something,” she said. “Though I may be a lost cause.”

Her bishop came out clumsy, but she was trying.

“You just need practice.”

“Hale says the same thing.”

“Hale?”

The name tugged at me, and in my mind I saw a serious face bent over a chessboard, brow furrowed, hand hovering too long over a chessboard.

“My partner,” she said.

I took her rook without thinking.

“Oh,” I said.

She watched me for a second, then seemed to make a decision. “Can I tell you about him?”

I shrugged.

“He works with his hands,” she said. “Fixes things. Old cars mostly.”

“Good work.”

“Yeah. People trust him with them. They’ll drive a long way just to have him take a look. He’s a storyteller. Keeps a small circle, but they’re solid.”

I took a pawn while she studied the board. That sounded right.

She gave up another one without seeming to notice.