Page 57 of One Wrong Move

I start walking to my Tube stop, but my steps are slow. How long will Nate be out tonight?

My fingers move over the phone before I think better of it. Finding his name, I press call. I’m right next to a rowdy pub, across from the movie theater and a Michelin-star restaurant.

I love this city and its dualities.

“Harper,” Nate says. His voice is businesslike. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. I just wanted to know… are you home?”

There’s a slight pause before he replies. “No. Why?”

“I think I forgot my keys.”

“You think?”

“Well, I know. Sorry, I don’t mean to bother you. When are you gonna be home? Or if you’re not planning on coming home at all, that’s fine, too. I don’t want to stop you from… from… having fun or seeing where the night takes you.”

“Harper,” he says. There’s amusement in his voice, and I like hearing it. Like his deep drawl. “I’m wrapping up now. The concert just ended.”

“Oh, that’s perfect.”

“Where are you?”

“Mayfair. Outside… The Black Swan.”

“That’s the name of every pub.”

“No,” I say. “Some are also called The White Horse, or The King’s Head, or The Queen’s Head, or sometimes The Red Lion.”

He chuckles. “You’ve been drinking.”

“Of course I have. Haven’t you?”

“I might have had a sip or two”

Someone shouts beside me, and a group of men laugh. I take a few steps away from the noise of the pub.

“Where are you?” Nate asks again.

“I told you. By The Black Swan.”

“I don’t know every pub in London,” he replies, “despite living here for two years. A shocker, I know.”

“No worries. I’ll just head home, and we’ll?—”

“I’ll come find you. We’ll go home together,” he says. “Send me your location.”

“Okay, sure. If you’re happy with that?”

“Yeah, I’m close by. Are you somewhere safe?”

That makes me laugh. “Nate, I’m in central London, on a Friday night. There are people everywhere.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“I’m fine. Perfectly fine. I might even enjoy a pint here while I’m waiting. I learned about the perfect amount of head tonight.”

Silence takes over the line. A heartbeat passes. Another. “What?” he finally asks in an incredulous voice.

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