Lisa

Jennie asked for space, but considering how upset she was yesterday when she left my place—and how poorly I slept—I call her first thing the next morning and leave a voice mail asking how she's doing and letting her know I'm thinking about her before I hit the gym.

I still haven't heard from Jennie by the time I'm finished with my workout, so I fire off a message with basically the same content as the voice mail and then proceed to order her a bouquet of flowers. I'm just about to head home when my phone lights up. I check the screen, elated as fuck when I see Jennie's name pop up.

"Hey, hi. How are you?"

"Uh, hi. Is this Lali?" It's a female voice, but it's not Jennie.

"It is." I check the screen. It's definitely Jennie's number, which I memorized the night I acquired it. "Who is this?"

"Uh, it's Irene. I'm a friend of Jennie's, and I'm sort of staging an intervention."

"An intervention? Is Jennie in some sort of trouble?" I consider the dark circles under her eyes and her anxiety—which I was familiar with in Alaska, but it was always something she seemed to manage okay when she was comfortable and felt safe—but maybe I'm missing something.

"Not like an intervention intervention—more like I'm trying to give her a friendly nudge in the right direction. So I'm probably going to get myself in some trouble for telling you this, but she hasn't ever really gotten over you. I mean, she's been dealing with a lot of stuff, and she's only recently tried to start dating."

"She's dating someone?" This is not what I want to hear.

"Not really. I mean, they've gone on a couple of dates, and she thinks he's nice and stable or whatever, but she's not really into him."

"So it's not serious?"

"No. Not yet, anyway. Like I said, just a couple of dates, but I think he really likes her—and he lives in her building, so that's not ideal for you."

"Shit. No, it's not." I really need to step up my game.

"It's just that Jennie has a lot on her plate, most of which I'm pretty sure she hasn't mentioned to you but definitely should."

"Is there something I can do? Some way I can help?"

"We both get off at four. You should come by the aquarium."

"But I just saw her yesterday, and she said she needed time."

"Jennie's already had lots of time. More than a year. She's scared. If you're really serious about wanting her to give you a second chance, you should be here. She's leading a private tour until three forty-five. Shoot, gotta go." She hangs up before I can thank her.

I need to get my ass in gear and figure out how to make Jennie see I'm serious—and that I'm more than just lies and empty promises.

I stop at home, shower again, and change into black dress pants and a button-down. I don't know why I feel the compulsion to dress like I'm ready for a date, but on the off chance Jennie's interested in more than telling me to fuck off, I want to be adequately prepared.

I arrive at the aquarium at three thirty, just to be safe, and approach the front desk. A familiar-looking woman with brown hair, glasses, and a whole lot of curves gives me a once-over and a raised eyebrow. "No flowers this time?"

"Dammit." I can't believe I forgot to stop on the way over. "Is there a place close by where I can pick some up real quick?"

She holds up a hand. "Jennie left the last bouquet here because she doesn't have room in her apartment for more, so I think you're good on the flowers."

"What about chocolate or something?"

"She left the last box of chocolates here too. And while we all appreciate it, because they were delicious, I'm trying not to gain ten pounds before the holidays this year, so you can put a hold on the chocolate and flowers for a little while. Maybe for a week." She extends her hand. "I'm Irene."

I wipe my palm on my pants before I shake her hand. "Lisa Manoban—I mean, Lali."

"Oh, I know who you are." She props an elbow on the counter and motions to a bench close to one of the many fish tanks. "Might as well take a seat—you've got a few minutes before she's done. You get bonus points for being early, though." She pushes her glasses up her nose and turns to the screen in front of her, dismissing me.

"Okay, thanks."

I manage to stay seated for about five minutes before I get antsy and start to pace. I end up standing in front of the dolphin exhibit while I wait for Jennie. Today the boy dolphin seems to be on his best behavior.

Eventually Jennie and a small group of very scholarly-looking people enter the lobby. Most of them disperse, but one guy stays behind to talk to her. I can tell by the way he keeps jamming his hand into his pocket and then rubbing the back of his neck that he's interested in her. Which isn't much of a surprise. Jennie's gorgeous, even in her drab beige uniform.

As if she can sense my presence, her gaze shifts to me. The guy she's talking to is in the middle of a sentence when she walks away from him, heading straight for me. I'd like to say getting her attention is a good thing, but based on her expression she's not all that happy to see me.

"Why are you here?" she snaps.

I jam my hands into my pockets, just like the guy she blew off. "I wanted to see how you're doing after yesterday."

She blinks a few times, maybe a little shocked, and wrings her hands. "I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine. You seem upset." The circles that I noticed under her eyes yesterday are even more pronounced, like my appearance in her life has caused her to lose sleep. I don't like that idea, but I guess I can understand. I haven't been sleeping all that great either.

"I didn't expect you to show up here after yesterday." She tugs at the end of her braid.

"Can I take you for coffee—or hot chocolate?"

"I can't, I have to . . . I-I have an obligation," she stammers; the hand-wringing ratchets up a notch.

Irene appears out of nowhere, laden down with jackets and purses. "Actually, I can handle your obligation for you."

Jennie gives her a meaningful look. "You really don't need to do that."

"It's no big deal. I can totally handle it." She hands Jennie her purse.

"I'd like to at least change first and check on . . . things."

"You look beautiful just the way you are, but if you want, I can drive you home. We could even pick up coffee and go to your place if that's easier for you."

"No!" she shouts and then lowers her voice. "I mean—I need to clean. And I live just across the street. There's a coffee shop next door. I can meet you there in twenty minutes."

"Okay, sure." I assume she's being all sketchy because she doesn't want to run into the guy she's dating in her building. A coffee shop isn't ideal, especially since I don't have a ball cap to hide under, but I'll take whatever I can get here.