She held open the door as he walked past her. It irritated him that she smelled good, of something warm and woodsy, irked him even more that the dress, even though it had a square neckline, could not contain her voluminous cleavage.
He tried not to look around as she hobbled in her ankle boot to get her suitcase. It was a cute, girly apartment. Comfy. It smelled nice. All tapestries and film posters and funky lamps and scented candles. It even had a plant, like she wouldn’t kill it instantly with her death glare.
Limping, Zakiyyah rolled a large suitcase out of her bedroom.
“What’s that?” Ashton said.
“It’s a conveyance for carrying clothing and sundries.”
“Why are you bringing it? We’re barely going to be there two nights.”
“Just in case,” she said.
“Just in case what?” Why was Ashton raising his voice?
“Anything. Brush fire. Earthquake. Flood.”
“Flood,” he said slowly. “In the desert?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Anything. Everything. Have you not read your best friend’s book, his chapter on survival? Clearly not. He said to always be prepared.”
“Prepared for what, the siege of Las Vegas?”
She matched his antagonism. “And I suppose you brought nothing but the keys in your hands and the beanie on your head?”
“I brought a tux, and what does my beanie have to do with anything?”
“Well, it’s 90 degrees out,” said Zakiyyah. “Wearing that in 90-degree weather makes it seem like you don’t know what temperature is.”
Ashton swiped the beanie off his head. “Better?”
“Saner, certainly.”
“Ready to go?” he repeated through his teeth.
“Just a minute.” Zakiyyah stood in the middle of her open living room, appraising the kitchen, the cold stove, the latched windows, the killed lights.
“What are you doing?”
“Hang on,” she said. “I’m having a silent moment. Or trying to.”
“Having a what?”
“A moment right before you leave the house when you don’t talk and don’t move, you just stand or sit completely still and try to make sure that you’ve brought everything, done everything.”
“Great. Ready?” he said.
“I can’t tell. You keep talking through it. Did I mention what it’s called? A silent moment. What you’re supposed to do is built right into the name. It’s another one of your friend’s life hacks.”
Ashton snapped his mouth shut to keep himself from speaking so they could finally leave the house.
“Okay, now I’m ready,” Zakiyyah said.
“Let me help you with your suitcase,” Ashton said. “Do let me get that for you. By the way, have you seen my car? Take a good look at it while I carry this downstairs. Appraise it in silence.”
On the sidewalk they stood in front of his BMW two-seater convertible.
“That’s small,” she said.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
“Clearly you’re pretending not to compensate for something,” she said.
Ashton didn’t respond. He had nothing to prove.
“Is there a trunk?” she said.
“Yes. The top of the car is in it. And my tux.”
“Well, put the top up.”
“I’m not putting the top up,” Ashton said. “We’re driving through the desert. You have to have the top down in the desert. We’re not eighty.”
They stood in the street at an impasse. His arms were crossed. Her arms were crossed.
“Well, what am I supposed to do with my suitcase?” Zakiyyah said. “Hold it in my lap?”
“There’s an idea.”
“Fine,” she said. “I won’t go. Call Julian, tell him I won’t be able to make the wedding because you have no room for me in your car.”
“I have room for you,” Ashton said. “Just not your steamer trunk.”
“So is that the choice,” Zakiyyah said, “a zero-sum game? Choose the luggage, then. Be my guest. I’ll stay home. The suitcase can be maid of honor.”
Ashton tried not to swear under his breath. “Give it here.” He moved the passenger seat all the way forward and stuffed the luggage as best he could behind them.
“Wait, I forgot one thing,” she said.
“Suitcase looks like it has your entire wardrobe in it.”
“I’ll be right back.”
“Why even have a silent moment, then?” he muttered.
“Oh, I had a moment,” Zakiyyah said. “It was anything but silent.”
A minute later, she limped back outside, holding a guitar in her hands.
“Are you kidding me?” Ashton said. He had to restrain himself from saying are you fucking kidding me.
Zakiyyah gave him her phone. “Mia asked me to play at her reception, to sing her and Julian’s wedding song. Call her and tell her I can’t because you refuse to help.”
Ashton took deep breaths. “What’s the song?”
“What, if you don’t approve of their choice, my guitar’s not coming? I don’t even