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“Is my dad going somewhere?”

“He’s going to a conference in Seattle. Do you not check his online calendar?”

“No. It never occurred to me.”

“Well, you’ll have to get into the habit of checking all the executives’ calendars. When I need to talk or meet with them, you should be able to tell me—” She puts her hand over my mouth, and I immediately stop talking.

“I will. Leave it at the office,” she reminds me.

“Consider it left.”

When the waitress brings the ladies their drinks, they clink glasses, and Lily guzzles her cocktail—bypasses the straws and just gulps it down. As soon as the waitress passes by again, she orders another one. “I swear, the grapefruit juice just tastes better up here. That doesn’t even make sense, but it does. Everything tastes better.” She shrugs. “I like being around all the evergreen trees again,” she sighs. “I missed the trees. I liked Los Angeles. A lot of interesting people out there, believe it or not. But not very interesting trees.”

Fuck, she’s cute when she’s trying to hide how tipsy she is.

She’s polished off another Greyhound by the time Alecia’s finished her Cosmopolitan—and that’s saying something. Alecia can drink. Lily, I’m not so sure.

“You haven’t given up on acting, have you?”

“I haven’t given up on anything. I’m too stubborn to give up.” She’s trying so hard to be articulate and ladylike. She speaks slowly and has just a hint of a fake English accent, chin tilted up as she looks down her nose at me. “I am gaining expertise in a new area and exploring my options.”

I lean toward her and say, “Excuse me, Madonna, can I speak to Lily Barnes, please?”

She laughs and slaps my arm. “I do not sound like Madonna!Thisis my Madonna impersonation.” She changes her posture, widens her eyes, flares her nostrils, blinks many times, puffs up her lips, licks her upper lip, and makes her voice more nasal. “It really is good to see you like this now, Wes Carver.”

“Like what? In a blazer?”

“Absolutely. Yes. It’s very good to see you in a blazer.” She starts using her hands to gesture. “But I mean, you know, all grown-up. And an executive. And a success. It’s very impressive. It just makes me want to wear leather and whip you and drizzle candle wax on your bare chest.”

“Okay.”

She drops the impression, covers her mouth, and snort-giggles. “Hang on. I think I have a ball gag in my purse.” She shakes her head. “Nope. Not funny. What time is it?”

“We should probably head out, actually,” Neal says to me. “Let your dad get home.” It’s clear, from the looks on his and his wife’s faces, that they are going to have a quickie in some parking lot in about five minutes.

Alecia puts her hand on Lily’s shoulder. “Is that okay? Do you want us to give you a ride home?”

“Um, no, I don’t want to be in the car with you while you’re humping.”

“You can wait outside the car,” Neal quips. “It’ll only take a minute.”

“Literally,” Alecia says.

“I’ll get a cab,” Lily says.

“I’ll drive you home,” I say as I get up to pay our waitress.

Lily doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t refuse me either.

By the time I’m back at the table, Neal and Alecia have already cleared out, and Lily looks tense.

“You okay?”

“I don’t want my dad to see me like this,” she says. She’s sitting on her hands and biting her lower lip. She looks so young.

“You can stay in my guest room.”

She looks up at me. “Would that be weird?”