“Oh, so like,” he made a connection, “When I’m at my grandma’s house for Thanksgiving and I don’t want to spend forty-five minutes saying goodbye to everybody, so I just raise my hand and walk out the door. Got it.”
He nodded. Nearby a car arrived for another patron, the valet stepping out and trading keys for cash. Elijah wondered if his car was still parked where he left it or if it had been towed.

He reached out and touched the front of her coat. “So you should text me. Or I’ll text you.”