The wind was stronger near the waterfront that night, the kind that carried the salt smell from the bay and pressed the loose strands of my hair across my face. Julian had suggested we walk after closing the boutique, and I had not asked where. I just let him lead, his hand in mine, as we wound through streets where the lamps threw long golden shapes across the wet pavement. It had rained earlier, not heavily, but enough to make the air feel soft and clean.

We passed the shuttered front of a ...