When he glances up she’s looking straight into his eyes. The sun is behind him, bursting orange as it sinks (he stopped to admire it a couple of minutes ago). He sees it on her face.
She doesn’t squint.
He nods, but so slightly that she might not notice, a defensible, plausibly deniable nod.
If she were available she’d have turned.
He won’t walk back across the overpass again, he’ll carry on to the usual spot and pick up there.
Penny will probably be back when he gets home anyway, so there’s no rush. Did he say he was working late or at the gym?
It was the gym.
“I think it was the gym.”
It doesn’t matter much anyway. Penny’s never been the suspicious type.