Jess picked up a Nambe bowl and examined it while Robert was gone. She could hear the thumping bass beat of some electronica music soften and then muffled voices from above her.
When she’d mentioned she had not gotten much sleep, she’d almost blurted out that she had dreamt about him, but checked herself. It seemed too intimate, just too weird to mention that to someone she hardly knew.
Someone she hardly knew. Strange. It didn’t feel that way. She felt she knew Robert better than she knew Ramona, or her best friend from college, or anyone with whom she had shared years of acquaintance. And Jess didn’t know why that was. She set the bowl back down on the coffee table and wondered why she was awash in these feelings about this man. Was it just because he rescued her from suicide?
She did
