Chapter 11
Sunday came and went, but still no news from Lei. I’d texted him twice on Sunday. Had left a voicemail for him on Monday. But yesterday—Tuesday—I’d decided to keep a shred of my dignity and wait for him to call.
It was pouring out there; a cool, depressing September rain, and Nash and I were having coffee on my back balcony, shielded from the bad weather by the top balcony. Below was the alley. Grittier than ever.
Nash was sitting with his feet up on the rail, getting his sneakers wet, eyes half closed.
“Dreaming of Doctor Beneventi?” I teased him.
He cracked an eye open and smiled lazily.
“Come on, tell me. It’ll keep my mind off work and…Lei.”
“Why don’t you text Lou to ask about him?” Nash blew into his hot cup. “Why torture yourself?”
“Because.” I exhaled sharply. “I
