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“Don’t you think that’s odd?”Abby asked, then pulled her phone out of her purse and googled obituaries for Brian Weiss in New York.A ton of results came up.Of the ones that had died, either they weren’t from New York, or they weren’t the right age.

“That’s the problem with having a common Jewish last name,” Morgan said.

“And we don’t know where he moved to after he left us,” Charlie said.“He could’ve gone anywhere in the world.”

“I don’t think we’re going to find anything else here in Brooklyn,” Morgan said.

“Since we don’t leave until tomorrow night, can we spend some time in the city?”Abby asked.

“Sure,” Morgan said.“Why don’t we stop at the pizza place tonight and say goodbye to Antonio?He’s been nice and helpful.”

When the three of them got back to the hotel, Morgan and Charlie got on the elevator to return to their room, but Abby wanted some time alone.She waited for their elevator to leave, then pushed the button again to go up to the rooftop bar.

The space was upscale and sophisticated, with subdued lighting and floor-to-ceiling windows featuring sweeping views of Brooklyn and Manhattan.Abby sat at the bar, hoping the bartender would stop flirting with the gorgeous woman with full lips and hair pulled back to reveal high cheekbones.

A man in a leather jacket and distressed jeans sat down, leaving one empty seat between him and Abby.

The man looked around her age, with tawny hair shaped in an “Ivy League” haircut, with sides and back cut shorter than the top.The dimples in his cheeks remained visible even when he wasn’t smiling.He had the kind of boyish face that Abby found adorable.

Abby managed to notice all these details without looking directly at him.I don’t want him to think I want to talk to him,even though I do.

“Do you think the bartender knows we’re here?”the man asked Abby.

“I doubt it.He still hasn’t figured out that woman is out of his league,” she said, turning to him.She noticed that his eyes were so blue they almost had a purplish tint, and his posture conveyed self-confidence but not cockiness.

“You got that right,” the man said.He began to mimic what the bartender might be saying to the pretty woman.“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.How could you possibly be here alone?”

Abby followed suit, pretending to be the woman.“Please, I am not that beautiful.”

“Oh, but you are,” the man added.

Abby let out a mock sigh, then as the woman, “You’re right.Does that mean I get free drinks?”

They both watched as the woman got up and left, leaving the dejected-looking bartender—behind.

“He must’ve said no to the free drinks,” Abby said.

The man laughed, then called out to the bartender.“Excuse me, you have customers over here.”

“What can I get you?”the bartender asked, walking over to them.

“What would you like?”the man asked Abby.“It’s on me.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Abby said.

“It’s a business expense,” he said, putting the word ‘business’ in quotes.“The sky’s the limit.”

“Well, then I’ll have a vodka tonic,” Abby told the bartender.

“I’ll have the same,” the man said.

As the bartender walked away, the man slid over to the seat next to Abby and put his hand out.

“I’m Greg,” he said.

Abby shook his hand.“Kelsey,” she said, thinking,I can be anyone I want to be.She dropped her left hand into her lap, quickly slid off her wedding ring, and then slipped it into a pocket in her purse.

As they continued talking, Greg told Abby about his job as a Wall Street Trader in the city.They discussed their favorite movies and reality TV shows, a shared guilty pleasure.Abby led Greg to believe she was single and worked as a caregiver for the elderly.At least that last part was true, she reasoned—she did take care of her whole family as they aged.