Michael Helwart checked his Patek Philippe for the third time in five minutes. The text from Linsy had been terse, businesslike, but it was a summons he’d never expected. I have time at noon. Followed by an address for ‘Bistro Lumière,’ a quaint French place in Back Bay. Not his usual haunt, but that was the point, he supposed. She was meeting him on neutral, her territory.

A rare, tentative warmth unfurled in his chest. She was reaching out. After the disaster of the soup, after the ...