Page 126 of Hello Stranger

“I’m sure he’s not ghosting you,” Sue said.

“I’ve sent him seven texts in the past twenty-four hours and he hasn’t replied to one of them.”

“For god’s sake, stop texting him! Have some self-respect!”

“I just want him to text me back.”

“He’s clearly unavailable.”

“I want to show him the portrait before I take it to the gallery.”

“Can’t always get what you want.”

“But why isn’t he replying?”

“Just give the poor man the benefit of the doubt. Maybe his grandmother’s sick.”

“You think they don’t have cell service where his grandmother lives?”

“Maybe! You don’t know! Maybe she’s an ancient Sicilian lady on a remote island where there are no phones. He could be stomping grapes right now, trying to keep the family vineyard going while she fights for her life in a charming Italian ICU.”

“Why does that not feel likely?”

“If you’re so worried, go knock on his door.”

Knock on his door?

I hadn’t thought of that.

Cut to me: Sixty seconds later—knocking on his door.

No answer.

Couldhe be stomping grapes in Sicily?

I mean, it wasn’t impossible.

But as the silence wore on, even optimistic Sue had to admit it wasn’t looking good. “I’m losing hope on the Italian grandmother,” she said, during yet another processing session.

“Right?” I said. “This is not a friendly miscommunication. Plus, I know he’s in town because I saw him in the elevator, and he saw me heading for it—andhe did not hold the doors.”

“Maybe he didn’t see you?”

“He definitely saw me.”

“Looks like it’s time for interpretation B,” Sue said.

“Which is?”

“He hates you.”

“But why would he?”

“Maybe he overheard you saying something mean about him?”

“I haven’t said anything mean about him in weeks.”

“Not holding the elevator door is definitely a maximum-hostility move.”

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