Page 105 of Playing Her Game

Her gaze flicks down, then back to my face.

I take a slow drink of water, doing my best to look like I haven’t noticed her breath catch.

“You’re awfully quiet all of a sudden,” I say.

“I’m eating.”

“You were talking plenty before the food arrived.”

“Perhaps I’ve run out of things to say.”

“I doubt that.”

She gives me a warning look, but her mouth betrays her, curving at the corner.

The meal stretches on, unhurried. Outside, the light shifts across the mountains, the snow brightening where the sun breaks through the clouds. Anna tells me about the village, the places she remembers from childhood, and the roads she still knows by heart. I listen, asking questions when I want to know more and letting the silences settle when she seems content simply to sit with me.

It feels strangely ordinary.

Not the restaurant or the view, but the fact that she’s here. Across from me. Laughing at my jokes, stealing a bite from my plate without asking, looking at me as though she has forgotten, for a little while, that we’re supposed to be careful with each other.

When the strudel arrives, she claims the larger portion before I can object.

“Thief,” I tell her.

“You ordered enough food for two people.”

“I’m a growing boy.”

“You’re twenty-seven.”

“Still growing.”

She laughs and nudges my shin under the table with her foot.

I catch her eye.

“Careful, fancy.”

“Or what?”

I lean back, smiling. “You’re the one who agreed to a date with me.”

“And I’m beginning to think I should have negotiated better terms.”

“Too late. You’ve already stolen my dessert.”

She takes another bite, entirely unrepentant.

I watch her, the mountains beyond the windows, the winter light catching in her hair.

As I yawn, she says, “Let’s go, before you go into a food coma.”

“I’m not tired, fancy, just more relaxed than I have been since you left Chicago.” I sit forward and lay out some bills, plenty to cover the meal, and a good tip.

Outside, the cold bites through my shirt. I open her car door, wait until she’s settled, then close it and circle back to my rental.

Back on the road, we follow the winding route deeper into the mountains. Anna leads the way, her G-Class easy to pick out against the snow-lined road. The farther we drive, the quieter the world becomes. Villages give way to scattered houses, then long stretches of forest, the trees crowding close on either side of the road. Every so often, the landscape opens, revealing a sweep of white peaks and steep valleys beneath the winter sky.