“Knee-deep in jambalaya,” she said before a baby’s cry interrupted her. “Gotta go. Glad you’re safe. Love you.”
As the call ended, I turned to Luke, settling into the chair across from him. The storm outside howled, bending trees and scattering leaves against the windows. I hugged a blanket tighter around me, grateful to be somewhere warm and safe.
Luke broke the silence. “Is this much rain normal here?”
I nodded. “We get storms like this every once in a while.” I shivered, and before I could say anything, Luke grabbed a plush blanket from a nearby couch and draped it over me.
Outside, the storm raged, trees bending in the wind while sheets of rain lashed against the windows.
“I’m glad we’re inside while all that’s happening out there,” he said.
“Could we maybe find a spot with fewer panoramic views of the apocalypse?”
“How about the home theater? It’s a nice room, and the seats are comfortable.”
I followed him, still clutching the blanket, and as soon as he opened the door, my jaw nearly hit the floor. “Aniceroom?” It was the kind of space you’d see in a luxury magazine.
I dropped into one of the dozen leather recliners, which practically hugged me back. “Is that a massage function I’m feeling?” I pressed the button and sank deeper. “And these”—I pointed at the cup holders—“do they seriously heat or chill your beverage on demand?”
Luke leaned casually against the wall, trying not to smile. “I did say it was nice, didn’t I?”
I bolted toward the snack corner. “No way. A legit popcorn machine?” My gaze darted over the array of candy. “Twizzlers. Milk Duds. And wait, is that a soda fountain?”
“You’re easily impressed.”
I grabbed a pack of Twizzlers with dramatic flair. “This isn’t just impressed.” I twisted one of the sweet strands in my fingers. “This is full-onawe.”
He chuckled and dropped into the chair next to mine, glancing sideways like he was working up to something. “Hey, um…” He cleared his throat. “About earlier. At Muses. I’m sorry. I could’ve handled that better.”
Something about the way he looked now, awkward and sincere, like a guy trying to fix something without fully knowing how, made it impossible to stay mad.
Honestly, I’d already forgiven him.
Not out loud, of course. That would’ve been too easy.
I sank back into my recliner, still fiddling with the Twizzler. “Honestly, if I had a dollar for every unsolicited comment or phone number scribbled on a receipt, I’d be rich enough to buy one of these theaters.”
Luke laughed. “Okay, but what’s the weirdest thing that’s ever happened with one of your customers at Muses?”
I grinned. “Oh, that’s easy. There was this regular who was completely convinced he was a time traveler.”
Luke coughed. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope.” I leaned in. “One night, he handed me a scroll. It was actual parchment, sealed with red wax like he’s auditioning forGame of Thrones.Inside was a love letter written in Shakespearean English.”
Luke’s eyes widened. “What did you do?”
“Well, I’m not a monster,” I said. “I wrote him a rejection letter in iambic pentameter.”
Luke grinned. “Did it start with ‘Shall I compare thee to a restraining order?’”
I laughed. “Something like that. Anyway, he said he’d return in seven days… and then he vanished.”
Luke raised an eyebrow. “Maybe he leapt to another century.”
“Exactly,” I said. “I hope he’s happy somewhere in 1623. Or maybe at the dive down the street.”
Luke shook his head, laughing. “You win. My weirdest work story doesn’t hold a candle to that.”
