I asked myself the same question repeatedly: Why did I let her go? I ruminated in my lab, running my hands over a marble globe on an end table. I spun it, letting the cool feel of the marble glide under my fingers and closed my eyes. Then I stopped it. My fingers were in the middle of the Atlantic. Might as well have been in the middle of nowhere. I should have at least asked for her number or a way to contact her again. Instead, I kept an eye out for her at the club each night, but she wasn’t there. Why should I entertain false hope that she’d return? I hadn’t seen her there before since I reopened the place. Not until Halloween night. And there she appeared to me in that light—a vixen dressed like a pirate. What did she look like in everyday clothes? And would she ever return? Swallowing some pride, I went upstairs. “Byron, has your friend returned lately? Maya, is it?” I said. Byron gave me a knowing smile, which he quickly recovered from. “No, I haven’t seen her since Halloween.
