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Chapter 79

He shook his head. “Cole, I prefer to avoid personal conversation.”

“That’s not personal; it’s just conversation. Personal would be: Have you ever been in love? or What’s the thing you’ll always regret?”

Oh shit. Cole shouldn’t have had that second glass of champagne. “I just mean…I’m a stranger. I’m not going to tell anybody and even if I did, it wouldn’t matter because you’ll never see me again. I’m nobody. I’m safe.”

For what felt like forever, he didn’t answer. Then, very quickly, “I liked having something to do with my hands.” Cole couldn’t help looking at them: his pale, perfectly groomed, perfectly controlled hands. Hard to imagine them ever doing something inelegant or being restless. As if he read her thoughts, he went on. “I was…different when I was younger. And I’ve been smoking since I was fourteen.”

“You iconoclast you.”

He didn’t smile this time. Just crushed out his cigarette against the stone and then put his back to the battlements, the city, the deep, blue-black
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