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“You’re too tall to be Julius Caesar, so I guess that leaves Mark Antony.”

“I can do that. I think.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll come up with great costumes for us. I’ve been working on mine for a while.”

“I believe that.”

We get into my SUV and head for a local restaurant in Peachtree Heights that stays open for us on game nights. The food is good, it’s inexpensive—though that really doesn’t matter—and it’s such a low-key place that people generally leave us alone when we’re there.

“So, I wanted to talk to you about something,” she says as I pull into traffic.

Uh oh.

She can’t be dumping me if we just talked about Halloween costumes, but her tone is serious.

“Shoot,” I say.

“I’ve been thinking about selling my place in New York.”

“Yeah?” This is unexpected. “How come?”

“Well, upkeep is expensive. I don’t know how much you know about New York City co-ops, but my place has no mortgage and I still spend tens of thousands of dollars on it.”

“That much?”

“Property taxes alone are close to eighty thousand a year. Like six grand a month.”

“A month?” I blink. “That’s insane.”

“Exactly. I wouldn’t have that here. And the truth is, I’m there maybe two or three months a year. I could rent a place or get a hotel for less when I need to be there for work. And if I do that, it’s all a tax deduction.”

“Right.”

This is a surprise. I wasn’t anticipating her moving here.

“Reid said I can live with him as long as I need to, until I decide if I’m going to stay here or not.”

“That’s great.” I pause. “Isn’t it?”

“Come on, Cash, don’t be dense. This impacts us as a couple. I’m not suggesting we move in together right away or anything like that, but⁠—”

“We should probably talk about that,” I interrupt.

“Moving in together?”

“Well, more about the relationship.”

She’s quiet for a beat too long. “You want to have the relationship talk?” She sounds mystified.

“I want to figure out what we’re doing so nobody gets hurt.”

“What does that mean?” Her tone has gone from carefree and gentle to cautious and serious.

“Where are we a year from now?” I ask. “Not as a couple, but professionally.”

“I don’t know,” she admits.

“That’s what I’m worried about.”