“Oh, I’m in pharmaceutical sales. My territory is the northeast, so I travel quite a bit, but I also have a team under me. That helps—you know, cut down on the travel.”
“Right,” I nod. “I’m sure.”
“You travel to Manhattan quite a bit, don’t you?”
I inhale, taking in the woman before me. She’s dressed like any of my friends would be, in a professional business suit—but unlike my friends, she’s dating my ex—and that really should not be a problem.
“I go into the city quite a bit. The flight to LaGuardia runs more frequently than the train.”
“So it’s usually a day trip for you then?”
“Well, yeah. I have Stella during the week.”
“Right, well you know, Richard and I don’t mind keeping her on a weeknight.”
“Oh, I know.” It’s also not your business—not yet.
She averts her gaze, looking down the street to her right.
“Richard’s been really worried.”
“About?”
She wraps her arms around her middle, and I mirror her—the wind is brisk and unlike her, I’m not wearing a trench coat.
“Well, you know, the murder investigation. How are you holding up?”
“Me?”
“I mean, you’ve got security, you must be worried, right?”
“The security has nothing to do with…” I’m not even sure where to go with this because I’m not about to tell Jessica what project I worked on that has my friends worried enough to insist on security.
“Right. Of course. I guess you had them before didn’t you? I just get things mixed up sometimes.”
She smiles and lightly giggles and it rubs me the wrong way—but in all fairness, everything she does rubs me the wrong way lately, and I probably need to spend some self-reflection time to determine why.
“Richard’s just worried that if someone might come after you, they might come after Stella. And I know the custody arrangement is spelled out but it would seem to me that if Stella’s safety were in question, you’d overlook that—temporarily at least—and let her stay where it’s safest.”
“Stella is?—”
“I’m not meaning to get involved where I’m not wanted, but sometimes, I mean, you know Richard, he’s not always great at representing his interests.”
“The Richard I know is excellent at representing his interests. He’s a lawyer.”
She giggles—again. “If I’m honest, I don’t like seeing him worried. He’s a good man, you know?”
“Yes.” What else am I supposed to say to that? “Thank you for bringing Stella home.” Ready to end this conversation, I add a pleasant, “Goodnight.” I stay in the doorway—one hand on the frame, Stella already inside.
“Anytime. I just love her.”
Jessica smiles and slowly turns down the brick path, her heels clicking with each step. The sound echoes in the evening air—sharp, deliberate, confident. Her car beeps, lights flash, and a second later the Rivian eases away from the curb.
I close the door and lean against it for a second, palms flat against the cool wood. A child can never have too much love, I remind myself. Gratitude, not irritation. That’s the mantra. Still, the scent of Jessica’s perfume lingers, and it takes a deliberate breath to shake it off.
Upstairs, Stella’s sprawled on her bed, half-listening, half-typing, perfectly unbothered. Her world is intact. Mine feels slightly off-kilter.
“Chicken parm for dinner. You good with that?”