Asar and I had spent the last couple days poring over the paperwork detailing the Renault estate, arguing over which items ought to be sold and which could be safely discarded. The memory of that one evening with Cassie and the acrimonious morning that had followed lingered like the smell of strong coffee. I felt increasingly bad for the way things had ended between us. More than once, I had contemplated texting or calling her just to apologize, but Asar repeatedly talked me out of it.

“You can’t back out, now,” he said sternly, methodically eating a sandwich as we sat in our office. “We’re committed to this.”

“Committed to what, exactly?”

“You already won the victory. You got the estate, and the book, which is what you wanted. I don’t want to see you throwing that away because some woman made doe eyes at you.”

“I have no intention of giving up the book,” I said, annoyed by his condescension, “but I wish there was something I could do to make it up to her.”

I kept thinking of the look she had given me as we’d walked out of the room that morning—a look of contempt mixed with heartache. Of course, there was no guarantee that if I called her she would even be willing to answer. Not now.

“Don’t go all soft-hearted on me,” said Asar, waving the half-eaten sandwich in my direction. “I know where that leads.”

“And where do you think that leads?” I asked skeptically.

“First, you text her just to say you’re sorry. Then, she’s calling you to patch things up and wanting to know if you’d like to go out for dinner, and the next thing you know, you’re offering her the book free of charge in the hopes of making up for your earlier bad behavior. That’s almost a quarter of a million dollars lost, all because a woman batted her eyes at you and your heart melted a little.”

I didn’t appreciate Asar’s contemptuous tone or his uncanny evocation of my father. “You need balls of steel if you’re going to make it as a creditor,” my father had warned me, “and I don’t think you have them.”

I’d spent years hoping to prove him wrong, but even now, there were moments when I worried that I wasn’t ruthless enough, wasn’t cold enough, wasn’t man enough to make it in this business.

* * *

I stayed late in the office that evening, trying to finalize the transfer of funds from Mr. Renault’s estate to our accounts. Asar left at dusk, leaving me alone with my young nephew, Salim, who sat at the head of the long table quietly completing a math assignment. My sister had gone out for the night and asked if I could watch him.

The afternoon had given way to a pale purple twilight that pressed against the windows as if wanting to be let in. I had become so absorbed in the work in front of me that I’d missed the sound of evening bells, and I was only drawn out of my reverie when Salim asked me a question.

“Do you think I’ll ever have a girlfriend?”

Startled by the sound of his voice, as well as the nature of the question, it took me a moment to answer.

“Yes, if you want one. Where did that come from?”

Salim frowned. “It’s just—this morning, a couple girls at school got into an argument. Renée said most people end up getting married, and we’d all probably get married when we were older. Elise said some people are more likely to get married than others, and she pointed at me. She said, ‘Who would marry him? He’s way less likely to get married than someone handsome.’”

Surprised by the girl’s cruelty, I asked, “What did you say in response?”

“Not much.” He shrugged. “I just asked her if she’d ever read the story of the ugly duckling who became a swan.”

“Excellent,” I said, beaming. “And just for the record, I don’t think you’re ugly now. What’s truly ugly is the heart of the person who can’t see past appearances to the person underneath.”

“Thanks.” Salim smiled down at the table for a moment before adding, “Do you think you’ll ever get married?”

“You are just full of questions tonight, aren’t you?”

“Sorry, it’s just something I’ve been thinking a lot about.”

Drumming my pen along the edge of the table, I said, “I guess if I ever met the right person. I’m not in a hurry to get married, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“See, that’s what I don’t understand,” said Salim. I could sense he had been agonizing over the question but hadn’t known whom to ask. “How do I know when I’ve found the right person? What if I pick the wrong one?”

“Well, no two people are perfect for each other,” I said slowly, “so it’s just a matter of making it work the best you can. Anyway, I wouldn’t worry about it, now—you’re only fourteen, Salim.”

“Fifteen in a month,” he shot back.

“See, so you still have a few years to go before this even becomes an issue. And I think Renée is right. Most folks end up finding a partner at some point, even the sort of people you wouldn’t think anyone could ever love. I don’t think you’re one of those people. You’ll find yourself a sweet, pretty French girl who loves you.”

Salim grinned appreciatively and seemed on the verge of asking me another question when my phone buzzed. My heart leaped in surprise at the name on the screen: Cassie Renault.

Hey, she had written, sorry we haven’t talked in a few days.

Salim and the room and the papers in front of me melted away as I picked up the phone and texted back:

It’s no problem. I wasn’t really expecting to hear from you again. What’s going on?

I was still wondering whether my phrasing had been ruder than I had intended when the phone buzzed again.

This is probably going to seem a little weird, but I was wondering if I could call you? If you’re not too busy?

I could feel my blood thundering in my ears as I hastened to tap out a reply:

No, that wouldn’t be a problem at all. Honestly. Give me three minutes.

To which Cassie said:

Sure thing.

Heart racing, I rose from the table and said to Salim, “I need to step out for a minute. Think you can take care of yourself while I’m gone?”

“Yeah, if I finish with my math, I’ll just browse your law books.”

“Perfect.” I took the phone and hurried into the hallway, safely out of earshot.

When Cassie called two minutes later, I let it buzz twice before answering.

“Hey, Cassie, what’s up?”

“Not much. You still enjoying Paris?”

“Maybe if I wasn’t so busy.” Was she really calling just to see how I was doing? That seemed unlikely. “How’s Phoenix?”

“Ridiculously hot. We’ve had three days this week where the temperatures rose into the hundreds, and I wish I was still waltzing around Paris wandering in and out of fancy department stores.”

I hesitated, wondering which of us was going to be the first to bring up our last meeting. Perhaps sensing my unease, Cassie spoke first.

“So, I’ve been thinking about it,” she said slowly, “and I would like to make you an offer. That is, if you’re willing.”

“An offer?” So, that was the reason she was calling: she hadn’t yet given up hope of getting the book back, and she was sure she could talk me out of it. Remembering Asar’s warning and trying my best to disguise my disappointment, I said, “Let’s hear it.”

There was a note of hesitation in Cassie’s voice, as if she was having second thoughts. “I’ll meet up with you—in Paris or Qia or wherever you happen to be next week—and we’ll finish the rendezvous we never completed during my first trip. Do you catch my drift?”

“Yes…?” This wasn’t the offer I had expected. Part of me worried that perhaps I had misunderstood; she had been so angry at the end of our last meeting that I had assumed our relationship was over. “Are you saying you still want to take me up on the offer I made you that first night?”

I could almost hear Cassie thinking on the other end of the phone. “If it’s the offer I’m thinking of, then yes. Big hotel room and everything. A night to be remembered, hopefully with fun instead of embarrassment.”

“That was the idea. As I recall, you said you were too tired that night and felt you needed to be getting to bed.”

“Well, you’ll be glad to know that I’m all rested up,” she said coyly.

So, I hadn’t imagined it. She really was still interested, even after I had broken her heart.

“When you said you were sleepy, I just assumed you didn’t want to get a room that night and were looking for an excuse. Which is fine—I wasn’t going to pressure you if you weren’t interested. I’m just surprised, is all.”

“No, I was very into it,” said Cassie. “It’s just, as you know, we both had to get up very early in the morning.”

“I wish I had known we were both going to the same place,” I said. “We could’ve just spent the night together.”

“I know, right?” Cassie laughed a coquettish laugh. “It was truly a freakish coincidence.”

I leaned back pensively against the wood paneling, wondering how best to phrase my concerns.

“Cassie, are you sure about this? I’m not opposed to your offer—I want to make that clear—but I seem to remember us parting on…less than amicable terms.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about it,” said Cassie with growing assurance, “and I really want this. But there is one condition.”

“Tell me,” I said, my confusion deepening.

“I’ll spend a single night with you, and in exchange, you’ll give me the book that is rightfully mine. We’ll both go away having gotten what we wanted.” When I failed to respond, she added, “Salman? Are you still there?”

“Yes, I’m here.”

“What do you think of my offer?”

I didn’t know what to tell her. I couldn’t help feeling offended that she was clearly only interested in obtaining the book. I felt diminished somehow, like I had become only the means to an end. I rather wished she had wanted to see me for my own sake.

But I hesitated to say this because I didn’t want her to get second thoughts and back out. I wanted desperately to see her again, if nothing else.

“I’ll be flying back to Qia on Friday. How would you get over there?” I asked her.

“You didn’t answer the question,” said Cassie sharply.

“I’m considering your offer.”

“I would fly, of course.”

“Would you be able to afford it?”

Cassie fell silent. “Right now, I have about three hundred in savings. So, probably not, unless my cousin is willing to spot me. I’ll pay him back when I get paid next week.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I’ll pay for your trip.”

“You’re willing to go through with it, then?” She perked up in surprise.

I could sense that her decision hinged on my answer to this question.

“I’d like to see you again,” I said noncommittally. “If I sent you the money tonight, how soon could you leave?”

“The end of the week,” said Cassie eagerly. It was impossible to tell from the tone in her voice whether she was more looking forward to seeing me or the book. “I could fly out on Friday.”

“Oh, perfect.” Asar had mentioned that he expected us to be done by the end of the week at the latest. “Text me your itinerary, and I’ll send a limo driver to fetch you. Then maybe we can take in a sight or two.”

I wondered if she noticed how curiously reluctant I was to bring up her offer. Though I didn’t want to say it aloud, I was hurt that she assumed I was the sort of person who would be willing to essentially pay for sex.

“And then…?”

“And then, we’re free to do whatever you like,” I said delicately.

“Exciting! I’m looking forward to it, truly,” she gushed.

I couldn’t honestly say I was looking forward to it, knowing that her excitement had little to do with me. The one thing I could say for sure was that I looked forward to seeing her again.

She paused. It seemed like there was more she wanted to say, but the conversation seemed to be approaching its natural end.

“If I sent you a picture,” she asked shyly, “would you be upset?”

It took me a second or two to realize what she was asking. “What sort of picture? Do you mean like a—”

“Not a nude, exactly.” There was an embarrassed smile in her voice, as if she had never done this before. “But, you know, just a picture of me?”

Of course, I wasn’t about to say no to that.

“Send me whatever you think I would like,” I said, feeling warm and flattered. “You could be wearing a turtleneck and I’d love it.”

Cassie laughed. “I’ll be wearing a lot less than a sweater, I promise.”

I let her go and hung back in the hall for a second with a feeling of irrepressible curiosity. Finally, the phone buzzed again with another text from Cassie. Surreptitiously, I opened it to view the picture she had sent me. She was standing in what looked like her bedroom, her arms tastefully covering her petite breasts, suggestively biting down on one thumb.

The picture confirmed my suspicion—Cassie looked as beautiful topless as she did normally. And yet, somehow when looking at it, I was overcome with a feeling of immense and unexplainable sadness. Maybe it was the odd look on her face or the way she seemed to be trying so desperately to get my attention. Whatever it was, I didn’t want to go on looking at it.

I closed the phone with a snap and returned to the office where Salim sat waiting. I ought to have been thrilled that Cassie was willing to forget our last meeting, but somehow, I couldn’t summon the requisite emotions.

By now, night was falling, and a violet hue lingered over the pedestrian-crowded streets. I sat down at the table facing the windows, watching the couples passing while a flock of starlings burst overhead like feathery fireworks. Salim still sat at the head of the table, absorbed in his homework and undoubtedly wondering whether love would ever find him and whether it would even be worth it when it did.

I wish I had suitable advice to give my nephew on the matter, but clearly, I was no expert.