“How can you think about that after what we’ve been through, h?”
“Because if I don’t, I’ll think about how Lam’s tattoos show that there are at least three other things like Qing Long up there, ready to come down anytime they want, and there’s nothing we can do about it.”
“Staring at beautiful things does make horrible ideas easier to accept.”
“Deal with ‘em your own way. Tomorrow, Pike Place, noon. This time you pick the restaurant. I may bring Lam.” Chak walked away.
Alex stayed at the waterfront. He took out his phone and looked at the locked screen picture of himself, Emily, and Calvin. Almost a year ago, when it was taken, he had no trouble believing those were in his heart and nothing more. His love for Calvin was still strong, but he couldn’t bring himself to forgive Emily for sleeping with another man. She swore it was only physical and that would never happen again, and maybe he was being cruel for not giving her a chance to save their marriage, but if he could let go of the past …
Alex’s phone rang. The portrait of his family vanished. A picture of Trista in her oversized dark blue sweatshirt appeared.
Trista. The villainess who dealt him his worst defeat. The young woman he rescued from the worst time in her life. The woman who was there for him during his.
He accepted the call. “Hey.”
Trista said, “That’s the first time I heard you answer without saying, ‘Agent O’Farrell.’”
“I told you to call me Alex.”
“How’s Seattle?”
“Cold and wet. How’s Albuquerque?”
“Hot and dry. I know you said I shouldn’t call so much, but I really need advice. Is this a good time?”
Alex looked through the gaps in the clouds to the clear sky above the star-like lights of the city. “Right now, there’s no one I’d rather talk to.”
The Prospects (Short Story): Above the Stars Page 5
