The penthouse lights were dimmed low, the only glow coming from the massive television screen and the soft city lights filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Andrea had changed into one of Henry’s oversized beige T-shirts that fell to her mid-thigh and a pair of soft cotton shorts. Her hair was twisted up in a messy bun, a few strands loose around her face. Henry had traded his suit for gray sweatpants and a simple black T-shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders.

Takeout containers from their favorite Thai place were scattered across the coffee table, half-eaten pad thai, popcorn, grape wine and spring rolls forgotten as they settled deeper into...