“Ms. Rogers, we’re at Harland Private Kitchen.”

“I… I’m getting out now.”

The driver’s voice yanked me back to reality. Heat rushed to my face. I answered and quickly broke eye contact with Sean, shoved the door open, and got out, walking to the left side of the car.

“Zaina.”

Sean called my name. I tightened my grip on my bag, stopped, and looked back.

He had one arm braced on the window frame, smiling like ...