Ben:???????????????Did you know she was married?
Kyle:??????????????I saw the ring. But I was single, and honestly, I wasn’t looking for a relationship anyway. A married lady seemed like a kind of ideal situation, actually.
Ben:???????????????What was your impression of Lucy? Did she seem happy?
Kyle:??????????????Happy is not the word, no. Lucy was complex. Layered. She wasn’t interested in making other people comfortable, which I really liked about her. Not a common trait in a woman.
She seemed older than her early twenties. A real old soul. A deep thinker. She was writing that book, but she’d just get so stuck in her head. I’m not surprised that she never managed to publish anything.
Ben:???????????????Did Lucy talk about her marriage with you?
Kyle:??????????????Not at first. But our … tryst went on for months, nearly a year, and eventually she did talk about him a little.
Ben:???????????????Did you get the impression it was a happy marriage?
Kyle:??????????????I got the impression it was complicated. Most marriages are, though. Right? I’ve never been married. But that’s what I’d always thought. It seemed dramatic, to be honest. She was so young. I’m a good fifteen years older than her, and I remember thinking that it didn’t sound like either of them should have gotten married.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
LUCY
I gave my number to Ben before leaving the diner yesterday, full of French toast and regret. I’ve never given a journalist my phone number （though some found the old one anyway）， and I can’t shake the feeling that I made a serious error.
I’ve actually been wondering whether I’ve made a whole slew of serious errors lately. My entire fucking life for the past few days is a serious error, starting with my decision to fly across the country for my traitorous grandmother. My traitorous grandmother who spends about 80 percent （conservative estimate） of her day drunk. Her judgment clearly can’t be trusted.
My phone buzzes the next day, as I’m sitting in Mom’s office, staring at the poster above her desk that says Make Today So Awesome That Yesterday Gets Jealous. I look down to see a text from Ben.
Are you free this afternoon?
I am currently spending my days staring at a motivational quote that borders on toxic positivity, thinking up ways to write kissing scenes without using the word lips fifteen times on one page. Of course I’m free.
I type a one-word response: Why?
Want to meet my assistant? She’s in town.
I spin around in Mom’s desk chair. I do, surprisingly, want to meet his assistant. She sounded smart on the podcast last season. She called Ben out on his shit.
Okay. Where?
We’re in my room at the Plumpton Suites. Room 226.
Now?
Whenever you’re ready. We’ll be working for a while.
So, I put my laptop in my room and carry on with my terrible life decisions by driving across town to the nicest hotel in Plumpton.
Ben answers the door, dressed casually in jeans and a faded gray T-shirt.
“Hey.” He steps back so I can walk inside. The room is a basic suite with a kitchen and a small living room, two laptops on the coffee table. A pretty Black woman with a head of long, thick curls and a friendly smile, sits on the couch.
“Thanks for coming,” Ben says. “Paige didn’t believe that I actually got you to agree to an interview.”
Paige stands. “You cocky little shit. This is not going to help your ego at all.”
“Paige, this is Lucy. Lucy, this is my assistant, Paige. She hates me.”
“Sorry.” She’s addressing me now, her hand extended. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too.”
“Please sit down and tell me how he got you to agree to talk to him.”
I sit down in the chair in the corner of the living room as Paige takes a seat on the couch again. Ben stays standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter.
“Can I get you anything?” he asks. “Water? Or coffee? That’s all I have. Oh, and whiskey.”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
Paige is studying me with such intensity that I wonder whether she’s trying to memorize my face so she can paint it later.
“Paige,” Ben says.
“What?”
“You’re doing that thing again.”
She blinks. “Right. Sorry. Is it rude to say you look different than the photos I’ve seen of you?”
“No.” I lean back in my chair. “The only photos that got around were the ones where I looked devious.”
“That’s what it is.” Ben snaps his fingers. “I kept thinking there was something about you that was surprising.”