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Very softly, James says my name. When I glance at him, he simply shakes his head no. He’s reading my mind again. He knows I was about to bolt. That doesn’t make me feel any better. I exhale in an enormous gust. Then, my patience—never saintly in the first place—breaks. I holler at the top of my lungs, “What the f**k is going on?” Chris says tightly, “Jesus, Livvie, calm down.” Hearing Chris call me my nickname, James shoots him a poisonous glare. Then his eyes focus back on mine, and they’re burning. He says, “I knocked on your door. He opened it. When I asked for you, he said you were his wife and demanded to know how I knew you. Apparently my answer didn’t satisfy him.” “What was your answer?” The faint smile again. “Go f**k yourself.” I glance at Chris, who’s staring at James in
- Writer
