“Where did you grow up?”
Billy mimicked my movement with his own glass, the index finger of his left hand moving rapidly around the rim until a low whistle hung in the air. His right hand stayed in his lap. “Here. North Seattle.”
“A true native.” I tipped my glass at him.
“I guess. But I’m with you,” he continued quickly. “I like the parts of the city that are a little less polished. It’s so different now than when I was a kid. Less Nirvana, more Amazon, if that makes sense. I’m sure all places change if you live there long enough, but it’s one thing to understand that intellectually and another to watch the elementary school you went to get demolished, or your favorite gyro place turned into condos. It’s kind of my hobby to recreate what I remember—” He stopped abruptly, cheeks reddening. “Sorry. I don’t mean to ramble.”
“No, it’s interesting,” I said sincerely. “Sort of the reverse of my experience. When I was growing up, it annoyed me thateverything seemed to stay the same, like the world was passing Coleman Creek by. Other places changed, but we didn’t seem to. That’s one reason I left.”
“How did you know?”
I made a face. “How did I know the world was changing? Life moved slowly there, but wedidhave the Internet.”
He chuckled softly. “No. I mean, how did you know you wanted to leave? Just because the pace is slower doesn’t mean it’s bad, right?”
There was a complex answer to his question—that a lot of my desire to leave had been driven by the intense sense of obligation I’d had in Coleman Creek. That wanting to getoutwas much more a product of not wanting to be forced to stayin.
“I think I was a typical teenager, eager to explore,” I said, a shorter version of the truth. “I went to college at Washington State and ended up in Seattle a year after graduating.”
“And is it everything you’d dreamed it would be, when you were a kid using your very-readily-available Internet?”
My brows drew together, my focus drifting to the lopsided Christmas tree in the Denny’s lobby. “I’ve loved living in Seattle. But I keep waiting for it to feel like home.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve lived here my whole life and sometimes still feel like that.” He leaned back in the booth, rolling his shoulders and keeping both hands under the table as his lips pursed into a nonchalant half grin. Sexy as hell.
“So…what were you saying about your hobby?” I asked.
“Oh. I draw. Sometimes from memory. Sometimes from life. Lots of different things, but I try to capture places that remind me of my childhood.”
“Is that what you do? You’re an artist?”
He released a hollow laugh. “I wish. I’m in finance. Putting that MBA to work.” I detected a note of bitterness. “Drawing is something I do in my spare time.”
We spent the next half hour before the food came out talking more about our childhoods and his art, about my time in college studying fashion merchandising. After some coaxing, I got him to show me pictures of his artwork on his phone. He used his left hand, keeping his right one beneath the table. I’d read somewhere that left-handed people were supposedly more creative, which tracked since I became absorbed in the stunning images as he scrolled.
Our food arrived, and we dug in. Moved on to new topics. I found out Billy worked for Wallingford Capital, one of the top money management and investment firms in the city. He was some sort of mid-level executive, having interned there throughout college. I told him about the temporary retail gigs I’d been stringing together to pay rent, and that I’d just scored a role as a buyer for an upscale boutique.
“Is that the goal, to work at a store like that?” he asked.
“I’m not sure, to be honest. I’ve always been interested in clothes and fashion. Not as a designer but more like a stylist. The way people decide what to put on in the morning fascinates me. How they make their outfit choices. I like the idea of helping people find things that make them feel good in their skin.”
“That’s cool,” Billy said. “I don’t think about my clothes generally. On workdays, I usually just put on whatever suit my hand touches first.”
“And I would argue that is a legitimate approach if it’s the one that works for you,” I replied, popping a fry in my mouth. “Working high-end retail probably isn’t my end goal, but I’m hoping it’s a decent foot in the door.”
We talked until the lights outside dimmed and cars passed by only sporadically. Whatever had drawn me to Billy at the club continued to hold my interest, even as he remained an enigma. His words and responses, while engaged, were carefully measured. It was almost unnerving how firmly he had controlof himself. But then I noticed his brief intake of breath when I smiled at him, or the way his gaze lasered on my lips as I ran them across the milkshake straw.
In the three o’clock hour, we sipped coffee and struggled to keep our eyes open. Tired as I felt, I was afraid to let the night go. Billy held himself back but looked at me intently. Our connection was so potent it hung in the air like a physical thing.
He must have felt it too, because he didn’t remark on my yawning, seeming to have the same desire to prolong our evening.
“At the concert, it sounded like maybe you were coming off a hard week. Tough Thanksgiving?” he asked, following up quickly with, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“It’s okay.” I never spoke about personal stuff to anyone except Bren, and even then, only occasionally. But since it already felt like this night existed in an alternate dimension, I took a sip from my drink. “I was home last week, in Coleman Creek, with my mom and two sisters. The four of us have always been close because my dad died when I was a kid.” I paused. “Last year, Mom got sick, so the holidays have been rough.”
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. It’s bad?”
I nodded. “Parkinson’s. It’s affected her mind a lot more than we thought it would, so on her worst days, it’s almost like she has dementia.” I exhaled, circling my mug with both hands in front of me. “It’s also hard because I feel guilty not being there. My younger sister Marley moved in to take care of her. Uprooted her entire life. Left her job and even her long-term boyfriend in Portland to move back.”