28 STERLINGAfter a long day at work, it’s already after eight o’clock when I leave the office.
I texted Camryn earlier to be sure she was free for me to stop over tonight. I told her that we needed to talk, and she agreed. Now I’m at the door to her building, waiting to be buzzed in.
Finally, the door clicks, and I pull it open and take the narrow staircase to the sixth floor.
When she answers the door, she’s barefoot with a messy bun on top of her head, a woolly cardigan pulled around her shoulders, and a huge glass of red wine in one hand.
“Hi.”
“Can I come in?”
“Sure,” she says, taking a step back.
I can’t help but feel that something between us has changed. She leads me into the living room, but rather than inviting me to join her or asking if I want a glass of wine, she merely
