Page 109 of ClickBack

“For whom?”

“Stand up, Zel.”

I put my plate on the nightstand, set the phone against a book, and get off the bed. He watches while I adjust the camisole. I turn because I want him to see the back, too.

“Damn.”

I look over my shoulder. “That’s your review?”

“That’s the part I can say with Graves in the car.”

From the front, Graves says, “I can hear that part, too.”

I laugh and pick up the phone. “Hello, Graves.”

“Ms. Giselle.”

Jarrett puts an earbud in. “He’s spoken. You can look at me again.”

“Possessive of the screen.”

“Right now? Very.” He settles back. “You want company?”

“Weren’t you going home?”

“I can change that.”

I sit on the edge of the bed. He follows the movement, and I like knowing that he wants to. “Yes,” I tell him. “I want company.”

He speaks to Graves, giving him my address. Graves answers something about the exit they have already passed, and Jarrett returns his attention to me.

“Stay right there.”

“I live here.”

“I meant in that.”

I slide my fingers over the lace at my thigh. His expression changes, and the knowledge that I caused it makes me braver. I do it again, slowly, watching his face instead of the little image of mine.

“Giselle.”

“Yes?”

“You know what you’re doing.”

“I’m learning.”

He leans closer to his phone. Then Graves speaks from the front, and Jarrett looks up.

“Hold on. I need to handle something. I’ll call you back.”

The screen goes dark.

I stay on the edge of the bed with the phone in my hand. On the television, the designer is arguing over a wall. I could return to that. I could finish my wine. Instead, I look at the last frame I remember of Jarrett’s face and try to decide whether it changed before Graves spoke or after.

He asked to come over. I said yes. Those are facts. The rest is me alone with a blank screen, supplying reasons a man might stop looking.

I reach for my robe.