I merged onto the highway. "That sounds like a metaphor for something."
She went quiet for exactly one second, which was unusual for Harlow.
"Maybe," she said, then bounced back immediately. "Anyway! The fitting is for the November campaign. They're doing a winter theme, so there are a lot of coats. I actually love coats. Do you like coats?"
"I own one good coat. Yes."
"Which one?"
"Black wool. Long."
She lit up. "I've seen you in that! It looks really good on you." She said it the way she said everything, easy and immediate, like the thought came out the moment it formed. No filter, no calculation. Just Harlow. Her cheeks didn't flush and she didn't look away, because for her it was just a true thing she said out loud.
I kept my eyes on the road. "Thanks."
"You should wear it more. You have a good silhouette for long coats." A pause. "That's a fashion thing, not a weird thing."
"I know."
"I just want to make sure."
"Harlow."
"Yeah?"
"It's fine."
