The name was a pebble dropped in still water. Chloe's lashes lowered, then lifted. "Why?"
"She used to stand next to you like a right arm," he said. "And now you ask me if I'm dating the woman on that stage, but you flinch at your friend's name. So—how is she?"
Chloe's laugh was short. "Concern noted. Not required."
"Isn't she your best friend?"
"She was," Chloe said, and the word landed sharp. "Until she slept with my boyfriend. Past tense. Past everything."
Jake took a breath, measured. He pulled a crisp handkerchief from his pocket and held it toward her. "For what?"
"My makeup isn't running," she said, refusing it.
"It's not for your face." He pocketed it again. "Sometimes you wipe your hands before you shake new ones."
Her mouth curved, reluctant. "That's your pep talk?"
"That's my observation." He paused, then added, "You and Nadia made sense. As allies. As a wall. I don't know her side, and I'm not asking for it. But broken doesn't always mean finished."
