“Mmmph,” he said.

“Are you sleeping?”

“Yeah. Exhausted from this morning. I went to bed an hour ago.” He breathed in, then moaned the way he did when he rolled over. “Sorry, Red Hot. I’m cashed.” He moaned again, and I could almost feel him, the way his body moved under the covers. “Our timing has been bad lately, huh?”

He wasn’t just talking about tonight or last night, and we both knew it.

“Yeah,” I said simply.

“Good luck at work tomorrow.”

“Thanks.”

I was about to hang up when I heard, “Hey, Iz?”

I raised the phone to my head. “Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

In the air hung the words, No matter what happens to us.

I clicked the phone off.

Sipping my wine, I stared at my left hand. I missed my engagement ring. It had been an antique art-deco affair. An emerald-cut diamond surrounded by a frame made of smaller diamonds.

The phone rang again. I smiled, thinking it was Sam. The display read, Grady, cell.

“It has come to this,” I said as I answered the phone. “I am drinking alone.”

He laughed. “Where are you?”

“Old Town Ale House.”

“Nice. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” And he hung up. Because despite the fact that Grady and I were sort of dating now, we had been buddies for years, buddies who didn’t have to make small talk.

While I waited, I called Jane. She answered on the first ring.

“How are you?” I asked. “Ready for tomorrow?”

She sighed. “We’ve been shooting promos all day. But I’m still so freaked out about last night. I threw the flowers and the box away, but I’m jumping out of my skin. I feel like my house isn’t mine or something. I keep thinking someone is here.”

“Where’s Zac?”

Another sigh. “He went back to our house in Long Beach. He’s so pissed off at me. More than pissed off. He’s furious, and at the same time, he’s so detached.”

“Do you want me to come over?”

“No. Thanks. I’m going to bed. I have to be at the station at four-thirty. Are you ready?”

“I’ll be there at seven.” My real new job was about to start.

“See you then, Iz. And thanks for calling.”

I hung up with her feeling a distinct unease, a sense of anxiety.

A few minutes later, Grady walked in, edging his wide shoulders through the front door, running his hands through his brown hair. “I’m glad you called.” He slipped onto a bar stool next to me.

“You called me.”

“Only because I knew you wanted me to.” Grady ordered a Miller Light from the bartender. “So, what’s up?”

I told Grady about my job at the Fig Leaf.

“Are you kidding me?” He gulped his beer. “Stop now. You just gave me enough material to fantasize about for the next four years.”

I laughed, then we fell into silence. A heaviness filled the air. After being buddies for years, we’d made out a few times, gone out on a few dates, but nothing between Grady and me was official. We hadn’t settled into any kind of pattern, and so the question always floated there-would we or wouldn’t we? Would we fool around again? Would we sleep together eventually? Would we keep dating? If we didn’t, would we return to the friendship we’d had?

It was the friendship I needed more than anything, and so I forced another laugh. “Tomorrow I’ve got another new job.”

“About time. What is it?”

I told him about Trial TV.

“Nice!” Grady broke into cheers, clapping me on the back. The older man reading a book looked up at us and glared as if he’d just found us in his living room.

“Good for you, Iz.” Grady kept thumping me on the shoulder.

“Thanks. You’re always such a good friend.”

“And I always will be a good friend.” But then his grin fell away. “I got to tell you, though, Iz, I’m hanging in there right now, but in terms of me and you…” He motioned between us. “I won’t wait forever.”

I looked at my wineglass. Empty. I looked back at Grady. “I know that.” But I felt a wave of sadness. I’d known, somehow, that Grady wouldn’t put up with my waffling forever. Sam probably wouldn’t, either. But I didn’t want to choose.

I felt another tickle of understanding for Jane. I heard Jane’s words from yesterday. There isn’t just one person who can be everything to me. Different people inspire me in different ways, fascinate me in different ways…I just look at my own life differently after I’ve gotten a taste of someone else’s.

I looked at Grady now, still waiting for me to say something more. In his brown eyes, the color of tree bark turned dark from rain, I saw a friend who would always be there for me, no matter what happened between us now. Which meant we could play at being lovers. We could see where it took us. We didn’t have to decide anything.

I opened my mouth, about to tell him about the pearl thong, just waiting in my condo a few blocks away.

But suddenly I pictured it in my mind-me in those racy panties, Grady with me…naked? There was something wrong with that image. Grady, with his bottomless brown eyes, was my friend, first and foremost.

He tilted forward, put his mouth near my ear. “You want to get out of here?” Grady spoke the words low.

We both knew where my condo was. I tried to think of Grady and me in my bed, stripped of clothes, stripped of the remaining walls of friendship.

The thought left me vacant, with a feeling that said, No, that’s not right, or maybe it was more of a No, not now. I wasn’t sure which. I wasn’t sure why. Would I ever be sure of anything again? God, I longingly remembered the days when I used to be decisive about most everything.

“I should get going.” I pulled away from him. “I’ve got my new job tomorrow.”

Grady nodded reluctantly. “Call me tomorrow, all right? Let me know how the job goes.”

“I will. I’m sorry, Grady. I’m just a little confused right now.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

I hugged him, and I left fast, my mind swirling-the product, apparently, of too many men, too many jobs, not enough sleep.

Or maybe… a voice inside me said. Maybe it’s just enough.

I climbed the three flights of stairs to my condo, thinking about starting my new job the next morning, feeling on the precipice of a whole new life. My body tingled with the anticipation of the fall into…what? I didn’t know. And that unknown was thrilling me.

I got undressed. I opened my drawer to find the Jeff Beck concert T-shirt of Sam’s I liked to sleep in. Slipping it over my head, I expected the shiver of calm and coziness it usually brought me. But for some reason, it felt stifling. I tugged at the neck. Too tight. When I slipped into bed, it felt claustrophobic, as if my body was still jumping, not ready to settle down, no matter how many times I reminded myself that I had to start a new job the next morning.

Sleep wouldn’t descend. I kept itching to get out of bed, to do something, but I didn’t know what. The responsible Izzy McNeil, that accountable and dependable self I’d always known, was scratching at the walls, sensing that she was onto something new. And wanting to get on with it sooner rather than later.

After half an hour of twisting under my sheets, I got out of bed and found the silver-gray box I’d brought home from the Fig Leaf. Lifting the cover, I pulled open the delicate tissue. In the light that made its way through a crack in my drapes, I stared at the garment. Delicate silver lace, two strands of creamy ivory pearls that ran side by side.

I took off the T-shirt and slipped on the pearl thong. I stood in the dark of my bedroom, naked but for those pearls, sensing a shift in the air, a shift in me.

My cell phone was on my dresser top, the ringer off. I lifted it and saw that I had a text message. From Theo. Want company?

I texted back, Aren’t you supposed to be in Mexico?

Tomorrow. So, are you up for a visit?

I could see him in my kitchen, squeezing blood oranges, the serpent on his forearm slithering with the movement. I started to write back, Yes, but then I hesitated. Certainly this behavior was reckless, certainly it meant something.