Pasquale patted her arm in an old grandpa way and she leaned her head on his shoulder. “How much do you know?” she asked without looking up at him. “Everything you told me, plus what happened at the restaurant.” “Ah.” They were watching the room as if it were a movie playing in front of them. Sandy and Chris moved through the revelers with elegance and grace, his hand on her lower back, her hand on his shoulder, the huge diamond engagement ring on a flawlessly manicured hand reflecting light across the room. They were a beautiful couple, and it was clear they were deeply in love. She was silly to worry. “And the note?” “Yeah, I heard. What’s that about?” Olivia breathed out a long, small breath through her lips. “He seems to have some information that might help me.” “So why didn’t you stay and talk to him at the restaurant?” She sat up, sticking her hands between her tightly crossed legs as if trying to crawl deep inside herself. “I just freaked out. Caught off guard. He was the last person I expected to see there. Then I thought, what if he thinks I’m stalking him?” She flopped back on the loveseat again. “There was no rationale or logic to it. I just panicked.”
Having a friend's shoulder to lean on can make even the most illogical situations seem okay, like in this as yet untitled romcom WIP.
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