Page 151 of The Sinner: James

Smiling, I grab my phone, walk out of the apartment, and lock the door behind me, strangely feeling lucky for a change.

3

RAIN

I picka table across from the bar––far from the live music––and occasionally, I glance outside.

The snow looks like glitter across the sidewalks, snow flurries swirling in the wind as thick fog cloaks the leafless trees.

The streetlights glow over the scenery.

“Your Marinated Heirloom Tomato Salad, Miss.”

I nod graciously as the server slides the plate onto the table.

“Anything else you’d like to order?”

“You can leave the menu on the table. I’m waiting for a friend,” I say, smiling confidently.

“Sure. No problem.”

The man walks away while I glance at the door as if I expect company.

It’s only theater, and no one cares.

People are busy with their food and drinks.

The atmosphere is warm and relaxed, with quiet dialogue and laughter wafting through the air.

Once I realize I’m pretending for nothing, I shift my focus to my plate and enjoy my dinner.

A few minutes pass.

“May I join you?” a voice tinged with a smile says politely, summoning my eyes up.

A tall, good-looking man, maybe in his thirties––possibly younger––locks my gaze.

We search each other’s eyes, a faint smile clinging to his lips.

He wears a dark, high-end suit, a button-down white shirt, and an elegant burgundy silk tie.

He holds a drink, the other nonchalantly tucked in his pocket while waiting for my answer.

He studies me with great interest.

Gingerly, I press the napkin against my lips, ensuring my lipstick remains intact while swallowing my last bite.

“Excuse me?”

“Seemingly, the person you are waiting for won’t make it tonight,” he says.

Tilting his head to the side, he flashes a flirting smile, hinting at me that he knows what’s going on.

He’s probably heard that line before from women like me.

“Are you a guest of the hotel?” he asks.

Holding his eyes, I slowly shake my head.

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