“—Hazel was her name, wasn’t it? She seemed nice.”

I force my attention back to the man sitting across the table from me.

It’s supposed to be Dayton, sitting there.

It’s not him.

Dayton and I had a follow-up today to finalize plans for one of the firms and work through his application.

He didn’t show up.

I’m so pissed at him. How dare he? How dare he kiss me like that and then hide from me like this?When he didn’t show up for his eleven o’clock, Carla brought me a walk-in, and I took it.

“She’s very good at her job,” I say briskly. I’ve got to steer the conversation back to our services and away from how nice everyone is, which has been the bulk of our talk thus far. “So....Logan.” His name comes to me at the last possible moment. “I’d love to talk about what we at Heroes on the Homefront can offer you.”

He leans toward me, green eyes oddly pale in the light coming from my window. “What about Hazel? I’d like to see more of her.”

I look across at him.

Wait a beat.

Smile.

Then I grab some informational pamphlets in a holder on the side of my desk. “Here’s the plan.” He takes the pamphlets. “You look through these and figure out whether any of our supports might be a good fit. Once you’ve done that, you can call Carla at the front desk and schedule an appointment.” Not with me.

He has the grace to look sheepish. “Sounds great. That’s a great plan.”

I stand up, shoving my chair back from the desk, and stick out my hand for him to shake. “We’ll be looking forward to your call.”

I let him find his own way out.

As soon as I hear Carla calling goodbye in the front office, I shrug myself into my coat and wrap my scarf around my neck. It’s sunny today but bitter cold, and I’m going to be walking a bit. I can sense it.

At the doorway to my office I turn back. The stack of papers with job openings for Dayton is out in the center of my desk—I trusted him to be here, damn it. I fold them in half with a vengeance and stick them in one of the big pockets of my coat. Wallet and phone. I don’t need my purse. I won’t be gone that long.

Carla raises her eyebrows at me from her ergonomic desk chair. “You headed out early?”

“I have a client meeting.”

She purses her lips, but her expression turns into a smile. “Which client? The tall, dark, and handsome one?”

“I—”

“You don’t have to tell me, sweetheart. I already know.”

I roll my eyes at her and go out into the winter.

Maybe this isn’t professional. Maybe this is a dumb idea. I don’t care. I’m going to find Dayton and talk to him about these jobs if it’s the last thing I do. No, we don’t normally do home follow-up visits with our clients, but this is a special case. He needs this.

I need this.

Why? Because I spent all weekend thinking about him. About how it felt to stand in the same room with him after all these years. About how clean he tasted, exactly the same as that first kiss at Applebees. It’s shitty that Friday’s kiss also ended in silence between us, a cold front building on the horizon, but I’m not in high school anymore. I’m not letting him get away without a real conversation.

I don’t.

I dig out the first paper from the stack in my pocket. It’s got Dayton’s address on it. No phone number. Did he leave it off on purpose? There’s an email and a physical address. That’s it.

On the corner I step into the doorway of a Duane Reade and put his address into my phone.

Shit. It’s going to take almost an hour to get there. I’m going to have to get the subway at 50th, and then—

Wait.

I zoom in on the map on my screen.

What the hell?

Maybe I put in the address wrong.

I double-check with the paper. It’s right there in Day’s handwriting. 9801 Liberty Ave. Ozone Park? That’s not in Queens. I know he said he’s living in Queens.

This address is for an IHOP.

He lied to me.