I tense up, every inch of me battling between shivers and goosebumps and butterflies going crazy, but he ignores it and sits down next to me. There is a two-foot gap between us, and he turns my way to lean a hand on the back of the overworn leather seat, which puts his arm very close to my shoulder. I can feel his eyes penetrating my face, and I try to blank him by staring straight ahead at the door as it vibrates again with whatever the carpenter is doing. At least it’s a sign he is still ...