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Lola told Tim all she could remember of the phone call and the meetings that followed, going over it again and again until she had every detail clear. She’d done it while curled up in his arms, letting him hold her close and safe in the apartment’s bed. Her head on his shoulder as she spoke, a leg hooked over his hips, and her fingers tracing out her memories on that perfect chest of his.
A Secret Service agent had returned her to the restaurant’s back door and there he’d been. Sitting outside the kitchen door, still wide awake though it was two in the morning. Tim sitting in a pool of brightness cast by a single light over the door was the best welcome she’d ever had. He must have been worried because he hadn’t taken the opportunity to razz the agent.
Now the telling was done. Lola
