Working late tonight. How are you feeling?
Aunt Bea was always near her phone, and on cue she replied right away.
Right as rain. Doesn’t feel like I did anything to it. Do you want to stop by on your way home for some pie?
No, thank you. It will be late when I finish here.
She had no intention of staying at the café any longer than necessary, but she also didn’t want her aunt waiting on her.
All right, sugar. If you change your mind, me and the peach pie will be here.
Olivia replied with a heart emoji and put her phone back into her purse. She took a deep breath, put the car in Drive, and drove off.
***
Kingston gulped down his second demitasse of espresso and stared out the Sunshine Café’s window. He glanced at his watch. Almost seven o’clock. He’d been here since five forty-five and had helped Anita close up at six thirty. He’d been restricted to washing dishes, since he knew little about the coffee machines or anything else concerning the running of the café. The espresso he was drinking had been left over, and Anita had given it to him to take home rather than waste it. His plan had been to drink it in the morning, but as the minutes ticked away and Olivia didn’t show up, he caved.
The ultra-hit of caffeine wasn’t helpful, and he’d regret it later on tonight, but right now he had to have something to do while he waited for Olivia. He’d even tried to read some research abstracts on his phone—surely he wasn’t prohibited from even reading about medicine—but he couldn’t concentrate. And as seven o’clock came and went, he became positive she wasn’t going to show.
He took the small cup to the kitchen in the back, washed it by hand, and set it on the rack to dry. When he’d told Anita he would lock up tonight, she’d been surprised but relieved. Business had been slow, but she was ready to go home and rest. Something he needed to be doing too. Even though he had gotten more sleep in the past two weeks than he had inyears, he still had catching up to do. Sleep would be elusive tonight, though, and not only because of the caffeine.
He shut off the light in the kitchen and headed to the dining area to put his chair up on the table, like the rest of them were when the floor was mopped. He took one last look at the door. Main Street was quiet this time of day, as almost all the businesses were closed, and the Sunshine Diner would be locking up in an hour or so. He should have known Olivia wouldn’t come. Her shocked expression at seeing him at the library, followed by an arrow-sharp look and her refusal to let him in, had put an exclamation point on her words.
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
He didn’t blame her. But persistence was his middle name, and he’d decided at the last minute to put that note on her car and hope she changed her mind.
He walked over to the light switch on the opposite side of the room and was about to turn it off when he heard a soft tap at the door. He whirled around. Olivia.
Kingston rushed to the door, unlocked it, and let her inside. He stepped back to give her space, but he couldn’t resist visually taking her in. She was downright adorable. He still marveled that he hadn’t noticed her beauty before that fateful night at the Sunset Cinema. How could he have been so blind all these years?
Olivia crossed her arms over her chest, her small handbag hanging from one arm. “I’m here. Speak.”
“Why don’t we have a seat? I can get you—”
“I’m not here for pleasantries, Kingston. You said you wanted to talk. So talk.”
He pressed his lips together at her curt tone. She wasn’t so adorable now. “Can we at least move away from the door and windows? I don’t want anyone to see us—”
“Together?”
“No.” Good grief, where did that come from? “I don’t want anyone to see us fighting.”
“Is it going to come to that?”
“I didn’t think so. Now I’m not so sure.”
She glared at him and walked to the center of the dining room between two tables and turned around. “Far enough?”
“It’s fine.” He moved toward her. “All right. No pleasantries. Olivia, I’m—”
“Sorry. I know. You’re sorry, you lost track of time, you should have called but you didn’t, you were busy, you’re a very important doctor, blah blah blah.”
Her vitriol caught him off guard. He’d planned to say all those things, except for being an important doctor and the blah-blah part.
“Look, I’ll save you the trouble,” she said. “You’re forgiven.”
“Doesn’t sound like it,” he mumbled.
