“That’ll be in this box,” I said, turning towards the shelf.

  “Okay, good.”

  I sensed her shuffling awkwardly. “Oh, by the way, make sure you—”

  Too late. She bumped the chair that was precariously propping the doorway. It clattered to the floor and the door slammed shut, plunging us into pitch blackness.

  Amber let out a girlish scream, and I felt her hands grabbing my shirt, clinging to me.

  “It’s okay,” I assured her, but she kept grabbing me, almost panicking. “Are you afraid of the dark?”

  Her voice came in a whisper. “Um, maybe a little? Especially dark creepy closets. Can we get out of here?”

  “Actually, no.”

  “No? Ryan, stop! Please don’t be mean,” she pleaded, and I felt her head on my chest.

  “I’m not,” I grunted, raising one hand into the air in search of the chain I thought I’d seen. “It’s just, the lock’s broken. That’s why the door was propped open.”

  “Oh my God, are you serious?” I felt my shirt get tighter as she pulled it even harder, her body even closer to mine.

  “Don’t worry,” I assured her huskily. “The maintenance guy will be back.”

  “I can’t see a friggin’ thing,” she whimpered. “This is like a horror movie, and they always kill off the blonde girl.”

  “Only if she panics and starts screaming,” I said, my hand still groping above my head for the chain. Finally, I got hold of it.

  I pulled the chain, and a bare bulb flickered to life, casting harsh shadows in the tiny space.

  Amber didn’t let go. She stayed pressed against me, her face tilted up toward mine, her breathing shallow. We stared at each other for several heartbeats, the awareness crackling between us.

  “They’ll come soon,” I said softly.

  “I know,” she whispered, and let out a sigh, nuzzling her cheek against me. “I don’t want them to. I just want to stay here and hug you.”

  She kept hugging me, so I kept hugging her, my hands stroking her back, her hair.

  “Amber.” My voice came out low. “What happened?”

  She was silent for a moment, but I felt her stiffen. “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean. You gave us that note, and then… At the grocery store you’d suddenly changed.”

  She held on a second longer, but it felt like the spell had broken, like she was reluctantly waking up from a beautiful dream.

  Finally she backed away, wiping her eyes.

  Was she crying?

  “I can’t,” she whispered, shaking her head and turning towards the door.

  “Can’t what?”

  “Just… Forget it, okay? It… I can’t.” Her voice broke slightly. She tried turning the door knob but it didn’t move.

  “It’s locked,” I murmured.

  “I know,” she said, hugging herself.

  I put a hand on her shoulder. “Amber, if you need space, that’s fine… If you need time…”

  Voices and footsteps came, and we heard the jangle of keys.

  The door knob rattled, and Amber backed away as the door suddenly opened, cool air blowing over us. Amber bumped against me again, her fragrant hair close to my face.

  “Got stuck? What’d I tell ya?” the maintenance guy said.

  Kate and Caroline looked in, both of them holding folding chairs.

  Caroline’s eyes widened as she saw us. “Oh! Amber. Um, hi.” A suggestive smile came onto her face.

  Amber pushed past them all without a word, forgetting the extension cords as her heels clicked down the hallway.

  I stood in the doorway, watching her disappear down the hall, my heart still racing.

  “What happened?” Kate asked under her breath.

  I shook my head, turning back to the box. “I’ll tell you later.”

  Chapter fourteen

  Acouple of days later, I was slurping a coffee at River Roasters, laptop open, the closet incident still in the back of my mind.

  As I sat hunched over my laptop, trying to focus on emails, someone appeared at my table, brushing her hand on my arm.

  “Hi Ryan.”

  It was Jessica. She spread her fingers apologetically. “Sorry—I saw you in the window. Can I talk to you?”

  I knew immediately this had to be about Amber. “Sure. Have a seat.”

  “Okay, I’m gonna grab a coffee.”

  She returned a minute later with a latte and settled into the chair across from me, giving me a look that was half-amused, half-exasperated.

  “So? What’s up?” I asked.

  She let out a dramatic sigh, stirring her drink. “Okay, so. You-know-who has been acting like a crazy person lately.”

  I closed my laptop. “Like, crazy how?”

  “Well, let’s see. Last weekend, after her party? She was practically floating, she was so happy.” She leaned over her coffee with a confidential air. “She was into you.”

  Then she let out a monosyllabic laugh and tossed a strand of hair over her shoulder. “Yup, she totally was — even though she knew what she’d be getting herself into. But she was at the point where she didn’t even care.”

  “And what happened?”

  Jessica leaned back, swirling her latte in its cup. “Monday happened.” She took a leisurely sip, clearly enjoying holding me in suspense.

  I scratched my leg, trying to be patient. “People talked?”

  Jessica gave me an appraising gaze, keeping her eye on me as she took a swig of latte. Then she set the cup down and extended an index finger towards me, her long claw touching the table.

  “I want to know something first,” she said, her eyes serious behind the mask of excessive eye liner. “What are you looking for with Amber? I mean, what you do with other women is your business, but Amber’s my friend…”

  “Listen, Jessica,” I said. “I’m in a serious relationship with Caroline, Sofia, and Kate.”

  She rolled her eyes at that, crossing her arms. And yet, there was an indulgent twinkle in her eye, and a flush in her cheeks that showed through the makeup.

  “It’s true,” I continued. “And they wouldn’t let me fool around with another girl even if I wanted to—which I don’t.”

  She smiled and flicked her hair, apparently satisfied. “Okay, I believe you. To tell the truth. I think you’re a good guy, even if you have a harem.

  “I mean, that’s every guy’s dream, right? I think your biggest critics are guys who are actually just jealous.”

  I nodded, starting to see where this was going. “So, people convinced Amber I’m a bad guy?”

  She shook her head emphatically. “No! She doesn’t think you’re a bad guy. But her family is really important to her—and her job.

  “She went to her brother’s place that weekend, after her party. The gossip had already gotten around.

  “Probably one of Amber’s cousins ran her mouth. Amber’s mom called. ‘What are you doing? You went home with that playboy? He’s just using you! Blah blah blah.’”

  I smirked. “Playboy?”

  Jessica rolled her eyes again, but this time on my behalf. “Amber’s mom is great, but she’s pretty conventional. Being in… that kind of relationship is not what she imagined for her daughter.”

  “Well, it is pretty unusual,” I admitted.

  Jessica nodded. “And the rumor mill completely twisted what happened. They made it seem like she stumbled into your filthy grip—” She clawed the air with her nails to demonstrate.

  “And you were all too happy to take her home while she was drunk and senseless,” she continued.

  “Her mom blew up. Started lecturing about reputation, about throwing away her career for some ‘perverted situation.’” Jessica made air quotes.

  I felt my face tighten with anger. “It wasn’t like that at all.”

  “I know! But that’s how they portrayed it. And, of course, Doug made sure everybody at the office heard that version.” She curled her lip distastefully.

  “The idiot at her party.”

  Jessica slapped the table. “The guy you punched!” She broke into giggles, covering her mouth. “Omigod, Ryan! Why did you do that?”

  “He was getting aggressive,” I said, trying not to look too satisfied. “It was just a tap, really. The alcohol he drank did most of the work for me.”

  “Well, he’s getting back at you by gossiping. Making bitter jokes around the office about how Amber went home with you and joined your ‘collection.’”

  “Shit.”

  “Right? She was mortified. And then it got even worse. Her boss decided to share his thoughts too.”

  “Her boss?”

  “Yeah, he’s a really old-fashioned guy. Called her in for a chat about ‘maintaining professional standards.’ Basically told her that her personal life was becoming a distraction.”

  “Oh, no,” I muttered, dragging a hand over my face.

  Jessica nodded grimly. “Yeah. And then there was that little incident with you in the closet.”

  I looked up. “You heard about that?”

  She nodded, wide-eyed. “Oh yeah. She told me how you were locked in there together in each other’s arms.”

  She made a dreamy face and sighed, as if she was talking about a scenario in some Rom-com movie. Then she suddenly reached across the table and swatted my arm. “Ryan!” She admonished me.

  I looked at her in confusion. “What?”

  “How could you not kiss her? That was perfect!”

  “The maintenance guy came back and—” I protested.

  “Well, I don’t see you getting another chance like that again,” Jessica said, sitting back and gesturing with her coffee cup. “Because now she’s really made up her mind. She’s completely shut herself off.”

  The finality in Jessica’s voice worried me. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean she’s done. When Amber makes up her mind like that, she doesn’t go back on it. She’s convinced herself that being with you is impossible.”

  “Why does she care so much about what people think?” I asked, frustrated.

  Jessica’s eyes were sympathetic. “It’s not you. It’s her family. Her career. These things mean a lot to her. She’s worked really hard to get where she is. She doesn’t want to lose it.”

  I stared at my coffee for a moment. “So you really think that’s it?”

  “I’m sorry,” Jessica said softly. “I really am. I think you could have made her happy.”

  Chapter fifteen

  Idragged the broom across the tile floor at Como en Casa, sweeping the debris of the lunch rush.

  The afternoon lull was my favorite time to visit. I could be a fly on the wall without feeling like I was in the way.

  I enjoyed coming in to help out once in a while. It let me observe how Sofia ran her business and build its success—which I found fascinating.

  Besides, there was something comforting about being in the restaurant when it wasn’t too busy.

  After my talk with Jessica that morning, I found myself wandering over there almost without thinking.

  I worked the broom around the scattered tables where a few customers lingered over late lunches.

  Two waitresses chatted quietly in Spanish near the register, folding napkins and restocking silverware.

  From the kitchen came a great clatter of pans, along with the sound of cupboards banging shut.

  The big-bosomed, grandmotherly hispanic lady was busy. Through the pass-through window, I saw her lift a chunk of dough and slam it onto the counter like she was wrestling an alligator.

  “Abuela’s making bread,” Sofia said, appearing beside me with a damp cloth to wipe down the table I’d just swept around.

  “Sure smells good.” I leaned the broom against the wall.

  Sofia studied my face as she worked. “You look tired, my love. Is everything okay?”

  “I had an interesting conversation with Amber’s friend Jessica this morning.”

  Sofia’s expression became more serious. “She explain you what happened?”

  “Yeah. Why Amber changed her mind so suddenly."

  Sofia paused in her wiping, giving me her full attention. “Tell me.”

  As I recounted Jessica’s explanation—the family pressure, the boss’s lecture, Doug’s rumors—Sofia’s face cycled through sympathy, anger, and understanding.

  She shook her head with a look of motherly concern. “Poor little thing. All that pressure.”

  One of the waitresses approached with a question about tomorrow’s specials, and Sofia switched to rapid Spanish, gesturing toward the kitchen where Abuela was still working.

  Then she turned back to me. “So Jessica thinks she won’t change her mind?”

  “Pretty much. She said when Amber makes up her mind about something, she doesn’t change it.”

  Sofia picked up her cloth again, considering this as she moved to the next table.

  “You should have kissed her,” she said, wiping the table. “You don’t get to a woman’s heart with words.”

  I clawed my forehead, groaning. “That’s what Jessica said. But the—”

  “I know. The man came back and opened the door. Anyways, it doesn’t matter. She needs to feel you close. Your arms around her. Like she did when you were together in the closet.”

  “Yeah, but like Jessica said, an opportunity like that probably won’t come again. Amber’s made up her mind to avoid me.”

  Sofia moved to another table, her cloth working in slow, thoughtful circles. “Are you disappointed? Now you won’t have babies with Amber.”

  “I mean... yeah. I was getting kind of excited at the idea...”

  “We all were. Caroline and Kate and me, we were all excited about the idea. Little blonde babies with blue eyes.” Sofia’s voice grew wistful.

  “But it looks like that might not be happening,” I said. “Unless Amber comes around.”

  Sofia set down her cloth and looked at me directly. “And maybe she will in time. But you don’t have to wait.

  “If you really want children, find somebody else. Then, when Amber sees how happy we are, maybe she change her mind.”

  My eyebrows shot to the top of my head. “Five? You’re saying I should have five women?”

  Sofia shrugged, smiling humorously. “Ayyy, why not?”

  I laughed. “I think number four will be the last, but hey, you never know.”

  From the kitchen came the sound of Abuela kneading dough, rhythmic and steady.

  Sofia started wiping another table. “Anyway, is not too late for Amber. She likes you.”

  “Yeah, but she’s buried her feelings.”

  “But is not buried deep. You just need to spend time with her. She needs to feel you close. And then her true feelings will take over.”

  “I get that, but what am I going to do, stalk her?”

  “You don’t need to,” Sofia said, waving the cloth expressively. “When is the election?”

  “I think they’re planning it for some time after Thanksgiving, probably December.”

  Sofia smiled craftily. “See? She’s gonna see you many more times before then. Is unavoidable. Maybe you’ll get stuck in another closet.”

  She giggled and walked away towards a table at the window.

  Her words stayed with me as I helped her finish cleaning up. Maybe she was right. For at least several weeks to come, I’d have another chance or two to get through to Amber at the campaign events.

  It might be difficult, given that we were in enemy camps.

  But still. If her feelings were still buried under all the pressure she was feeling, I might still have a shot.

  Chapter sixteen

  The days passed, and the trees in Caroline’s yard changed to yellow, brown, and orange.

  November arrived with a chill that made Caroline pull out her thick sweaters and scarves.

  But we both loved it. Caroline got an excuse to use her fireplace, and it gave me reasons to putter around the yard.

  I hadn’t seen much of Amber. There had been one more campaign event so far—a voter registration drive at the library—where I’d spotted her across the room.

  But she’d made a point of staying on the opposite side of the building, and there was a tortured expression on her face when I looked at her. She was still mortified by the rumors, clearly.

  Before the event was over, we’d exchanged polite nods but nothing more.

  Amber stayed in the back of my mind — attached to the idea of having a progeny or two — but my attention mainly focused on enjoying the changing season with Caroline, Sofia, and Kate.

  One afternoon, I was in the yard, raking leaves and thinking of nothing in particular, just enjoying the crisp air and the feel of the leather gloves over my hands.

  I heard the porch door slide open. Caroline’s voice called out, strangely high. “Um, Ryan?”

  She stood in the doorway wearing her silk pajamas, her face pale as paper. She’d taken the day off work, since she hadn’t been feeling well.

  We’d had a bit of an argument that morning. I wanted her to go to the doctor, but she’d quietly refused, implying that she knew she wasn’t sick. There was clearly something on her mind, but she wasn’t ready to share it yet.

  Now, apparently, she was about to tell me.

  I dropped the rake and made my way up the porch. “What’s up?”

  Caroline took both my hands as I stepped inside, her face a mix of shock and concern.

  “Baby, what’s wrong?” I asked.

  She swallowed, then pressed one hand to her stomach. “I... I think I’m pregnant,” she said in a hushed voice.

  I blinked at her. The words did not register. “What?”

  “I think I’m pregnant,” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “Pregnant?” I stared at her blankly.

  “Look.” She backed into the den, unbuttoning her silk pajama top.

  She slid it off, revealing her heavy breasts. “They’re bigger.” She arched her back, moving her hands up her ribs, drawing my attention.

  I frowned at her breasts. They actually did look even bigger than usual. Her areolas were darker and puffier, and nipples looked incredibly sensitive to the touch. Blue veins were visible in the pale skin of her breasts.