Chapter 13

As I walked toward him, feeling just a little underdressed in my jeans, navy T-shirt, and peacoat, he rose and smiled. There was the Pretty Boy smile. Or was it? This smile was more adult, more nuanced than I remembered. This smile was a Guatemalan Fiambre as compared to a simple house salad. It promised something deep and satisfying instead of superficial.

“Hi, Adam. I’m David.” He held out his hand to shake mine.

I stopped, startled.

“David?”

He wiggled his hand at me, and I clasped it. He shook like someone meeting me for the first time.

What the fuck? Now I was totally confused.

As he dropped my hand, I stood staring at him, gaping like a stunned catfish.

He gestured to the chair at an angle to his with a coffee table in front of us.

“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked.

“Yeah. I think they have a jasmine-like coffee that’s not on the board.”

Jason—no, this guy who said he was David—smiled and nodded. “I’ll be right back.”