The dinner had been a bad idea.

I could see that.

Florence, clearly, could not. Or maybe she could, and she was just blinding herself to it. I was starting to see that might be a possibility. She’d already had three glasses of wine and was perusing the wine list like she might ask for another bottle to be brought out.

I reached over and caught the top of it, smiling at her as she let me take it.

“Did you have something special in mind?” she asked.

“No.” I put the wine list face down. “We need to talk.”

The glow in her eyes dimmed. Then she smiled, and I couldn’t help but think I saw the echo of my mother in her eyes—that manic, desperate need for…something. With Mom, it had been another hit, something to bring her up when she started to crash.

I didn’t know what Florence needed, but she seemed to think I could give it to her.

And I knew better.

I don’t want to marry you. I needed to tell her that. Delaying it wasn’t going to help anything.

Maya’s words came back to me.

She’s fragile.

Fragile.

Yes, I could see that. I’d always known that Florence had…hell. She was messed up. So was I. Nobody who was perfectly normal would want to put up with my bullshit.

But I had no plans to marry her, and the sooner she understood that, the better.

As she chattered on about how she’d like to throw a party, the two of us, and where we should have it, and if it should be casual or black-tie, I steeled myself.

“Florence.”

She stopped talking immediately. Watching me with those big, soft eyes, she said, “Yes?”

There was such hope in those turquoise depths.

I’d hoped the restaurant I’d selected would clue her in that I wasn’t about to go down on bended knee. It was one of the more popular diners in Hollywood, and definitely a nice place, but there were no white tablecloths; no crystal wine glasses.

Nothing here spoke of romance or seduction.

A baby was crying a few tables over. A couple of women were laughing at the table behind us, while the men in the booth across the aisle were not so subtly studying them.

No. There was no romance in the air here. But that didn’t seem to matter to her.

She was either that unaware, or she willingly wore blinders to all but what she wanted to see.

I had a feeling it was the latter. The way she stared at me made me feel a little sick with despair, and with the knowledge that it might just be too late to keep from doing her damage.

“I like you,” I said softly.

She giggled. “I would hope so.”

“I don’t think you understand.”

A waitress appeared and offered dessert, but I shook my head. Florence looked at the bottle of wine, but the waitress had already moved on to the next table.

“Florence. Sweetheart, listen…I like you…you’re a nice girl.” The words didn’t want to come out and each one got harder.

Her eyes flickered, then fell away.

“We’ve had some fun, you know? But…hell.” I straightened up and leaned back in my seat, staring past her shoulder.

“What are you trying to tell me, Glenn?” she asked, her voice flat, wooden. Lifeless.

I looked back at her. “I didn’t ask you out tonight so I could propose, Florence. It was the exact opposite. I like you, but I’m not in love with you. I planned on telling you that we should probably break things off. It’s not fair to you to keep going on this way.”

“We…” Her mouth opened, then closed. “Oh, well. I understand.”

She took the napkin from her lap and dabbed at her lips as she looked around. After folding it neatly, she lay it down and reached for her wine glass. It was empty. Without waiting for me to offer, she poured the rest of the wine into her glass, shaking the bottle to get the final few drops.

I watched in silence as she drained the glass. It took less than a minute. When she put the glass down, she dabbed at her lips once more, then again, neatly folded it and placed it precisely in the center of her plate. She’d hardly eaten a thing.

“I think I’m ready to go. Are you?” She gave me a bright, easy smile, but her eyes were strange, vacant. It was like looking at a doll.

“Florence, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She laughed, the sound brittle. “Well, no. I’m not. I’d like to go home and have a good cry, but I’ll be fine. Can we go?”

“Florence…”

But she shook her head and slid from the booth.

Sighing, I did the same, pulling my wallet from my pocket to get some money for our meal.

She twisted the strap of her purse between her fingers, still standing there with that perfect, pretty smile.

“Florence…”

She turned on her heel and walked out the door, not even bothering to wait for me to catch up.

Son of a bitch.

* * *

If I could, I’d have wiped this entire day from my memory. Just forget all about it.

It wasn’t an option. I could always get drunk and forget about it for a while, but that wasn’t the ideal option.

Besides, I had something else weighing down on me. The look I’d seen in Maya’s eyes right after Florence had kissed me.

And worse, when Florence had up and announced I was going to ask her to marry me.

Shit.

Of all the things in the world she could have said, she had to go and say that.

I had to talk to Maya.

I’d dropped Florence off and driven back toward the gate. With a hundred feet or so to go, I pulled off the side of the road and climbed out, staring through the darkness toward the small gatehouse.

A look back toward Florence’s house showed that her light was off. I didn’t know if she was sleeping or not, but night had fallen, and I knew she was likely to stick to her normal routine. She lived by it, from everything I could tell. On the couple of nights I’d spent with her, she’d been in the bathroom by nine and it was five minutes till. After a thirty-minute soak, she’d climb out, slather herself with lotion, then climb into bed.

Still, I hesitated almost a minute before heading toward the gatehouse.

Once I got there, I stared at the door before knocking.

It was quiet. I couldn’t hear the TV or music.

The sound of my fist pounding on the door seemed terribly loud, echoing back to me and all around. I grimaced and backed away a step, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jeans as I waited for her to answer.

The door flew open only seconds later, and the sight of Maya was enough to suck the air out of me.

She had her lips parted like she was about to speak.

The sight of me had her snapping her jaw shut.

“Ah…hi.”

She just blinked at the greeting.

“I…um…I wanted to talk to you,” I said quietly.

“Now isn’t a good time,” she said, her voice stiff.

“It’s never a good time for you.” I tried to smile, make it seem like a joke.

But she didn’t smile. Her hand tightened on the doorknob, and I could see the muscles in her arm tensing like she was going to shut it.

“Please. Just give me a couple of minutes.” I took a step forward, staring at her.

Maya crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes drifting past me. The blue silk of her blouse lay over braless breasts, and in the cool night air, her nipples had drawn tight, puckering into hard points. I wanted to free the pearl buttons on the shirt, go to my knees in front of her, and touch…taste…

But I kept my eyes on hers as I tried to explain.

“Florence misunderstood things. I told her that I wanted to talk to her tonight. I never told her that I wanted to get married.”

Her mouth went tight. “What is between you and Florence is none of my concern, Glenn.”

“That’s the thing.” I felt more than a little desperate in that moment, and I could almost understand what had driven Florence. “Look, Florence and I aren’t getting married. We’re…”

I swallowed back the ugly curse that jumped to my lips, born out of frustration. My dad would have smacked me if I cussed around a lady. I’d been about to tell her that Florence and I were just friends. But we weren’t.

“We’re not getting married. I know…I know what she said, and I know you saw her kissing me earlier, but…”

Maya was still staring at me. She hadn’t said anything. Her eyes flicked away from mine when I looked at her.

“I’m not marrying Florence. I don’t love her. That’s not what I want.” Say something, I thought. The longer she was quiet the more stupid I felt, and the more desperate I felt.

“I don’t really know what I want.” I moved closer.

She tipped her head back, eying me narrowly.

“I don’t know, but I think it might be you.”

She licked her lips, averting her head so that her short waves fell down to shield her face.

“Maya?”

“You need to go, Glenn,” she said softly. She looked up at me then, eyes deep and dark. “You don’t get this. I understand that, but you’re supposed to be with Florence. I’m not even going to be here much longer. I have to go back.”

“Go back…” Confused, I started to reach for her, but she backed away. “Go back where? What are you talking about?”

“I can’t…Look, I’m sorry. I can’t explain this. But I’m leaving, and you need to be with Florence. That’s just how it’s supposed to be.”

“How it’s supposed to be?” I demanded.

But she had already slid back into the house and shut the door.

“Maya!”

She was gone. She left me staring at the door in a pool of light.

Then the light was gone and I swore, tilting my head up to look at the sky.

“Dammit.”