The coffee bar was crowded, a constant hiss of steaming milk and the rich, bitter scent of espresso cutting through the air.
She had a brief window to meet her friend before she and her colleagues needed to be at a local radio station.
Duke waited near the counter, shifting slightly as a barista called his name and handed over two cups of coffee.
He handed her a cup. “You wake up before your alarm when your brain won’t shut off. I figured I’d save us time.”
They claimed a small stretch of counter space near the windows, shoulder to shoulder.
The coffee was surprisingly good—strong and clean. Andi let the heat settle in her chest, easing the low-grade tension she’d carried since waking.
“We should get going,” Andi said after a moment.
“We should.”
They stepped outside into the cool morning air, the sidewalks still damp from overnight street cleaning. Traffic was light but steady, the sound of engines and distant horns carrying between buildings. Storefronts were dark, their signage muted in daylight, while palm fronds rustled softly overhead.
“Tell me about your friend,” Duke said as they walked.
“We went to college together,” Andi said. “We met in English class and then started doing study sessions together. But I always sensed she wasn’t really into the whole higher education thing. I wasn’t surprised when she dropped out and moved to LA.”
“Do you keep up with her?”
“Not really, just occasionally on social media. But it will be nice to see her again.”
“What did you say her name was?”
“I guess I didn’t. It’s Kate. Kate Breckenridge. I think you’ll really like her.”
The restaurant sat tucked between two larger buildings—a small, French-inspired place with tall windows and understated signage. Nothing flashy. Easy to miss if you weren’t looking for it.
Duke slowed as they reached the entrance. “I can hang out next door.”
“No, come with me. I’d love for you to meet Kate, have a glimpse into my old life.”
He paused and studied her face. “You sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then I’d love to.” He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss.
Inside, the restaurant smelled like butter and espresso, warm and indulgent. White marble tables caught the morning light. Soft jazz played low and unobtrusive. A server moved between tables with practiced ease, setting down baskets of fresh bread.
Andi chose a small table by the window and slid into the chair, placing her phone beside her plate. Duke sat beside her.
She checked the time and let out a grunt.
Seven-oh-five.
“What’s wrong?” Duke asked.
“Back in college, Kate was never late. If anything, she’d been chronically early. She was always the type who liked to claim the best seat, order coffee ahead of time, and act smug about it.”
“Maybe she’s changed.”
Andi conceded with a nod. “Maybe.”
Andi waited.
