The guy gave a lopsided smile and laughed. “In the sense that you’ve been silently staring at the counter for ages, and you didn’t even seem to hear Wendy when she greeted you, so I figured coffee was a safe bet.”
Forget hearing Wendy—she didn’t even remember being greeted.
Her heart leapt into gear, racing fast as panic crept in. What if Fiona had gone to the meeting without her? What if—
“Wait. How long have I been here?” she exclaimed, looking at her wrist for a watch that wasn’t there. “What time is it?”
“Ten minutes past one,” he said. “Do you have an appointment?”
“Uh, yeah. At two thirty,” she replied, letting out a heavy sigh of relief. “It seemed pointless to go all the way home for less than half an hour before heading out again. So…” She gestured at her clothes.
“Hence you’re here?” he asked, looking slightly confused.
She could feel her cheeks burn. But she couldn’t seem to stop herself from explaining, “Yeah. Here. In my funeral clothes.”
“Oh, dang,” he replied. “Sorry. I guess I just don’t register black as ‘funeral’ necessarily.”
Sylvie looked up in confusion and saw that he was gesturing at his all-black outfit. “Right,” she said, laughing. “I get that, I suppose. Sorry, I’m…not sleeping great.”
“See? I was right. Coffee,” he said with a wink. “Now, if you’ve been doing funeral stuff all day, I’m guessing you haven’t eaten, either?”
She shook her head. “Well, no. But I don’t have time, and I’m not hungry, and—”
“Your appointment’s at two thirty? You’ve got over an hour,” he said. “And even if you’re not hungry, you should eat something. Grief on an empty stomach is twice as hard.”
“I, uh, I don’t know.” She shook her head. It was hard to look directly at him—he was that good looking.
He held up his hands in a show of surrender. “I won’t push my luck, but if I made a grilled cheese, would you eat it?”
Suddenly, grilled cheese sounded absolutely perfect, and her stomach growled on cue, making them both laugh. “Yes. Thank you. That would be great.”
He winked at her once more and then vanished into the kitchen. She could still see him through the window where they took the orders, and even from a distance, she could tell his eyes were a striking shade of dark blue. His dark hair and pale complexion made them stand out even more.
He really is new in town, she thought, watching him roll up his sleeves to reveal tattoos on his forearms.He hasn’t even picked up a hint of a tan yet.
Her mind wandered. She imagined what he’d look like in one of the old-fashioned suits fromFemme de Force. Maybe not the tuxedo, but the sharp jacket and tie combo? Oh, definitely. In her mind, she replayed the scene where the main male character rode a motorcycle down the beachfront road and bet good money that this guy would look even better doing that.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked, sliding the grilled cheese with a small side of fries onto the counter, making her jump.
“Geez! You’re quick!”
“Well, yes, but you’re also staring into space,” he replied, smiling that half-smile again.
“Ah, well…if you must know, I was thinking about a movie,” she said, feeling a little scandalous. It was technically true—even if she’d been thinking about him playing the main character.
“Which movie?”
“Oh, it’s an old one. No one’s heard of it.Femme de Force?”
He looked thoughtful for a moment before snapping his fingers. “French woman gets stuck—through a plot twist of fate—at a beachside paradise and has to muddle through with too much money and wit while the best-looking duke-turned-explorer you’ve ever seen falls madly in love with her?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve seen it?” Sylvie exclaimed.
“Not in a very long time, but yes.”
“Also, that is such an oversimplified summary. She saves him at the end of the day! She learns that she’s not some damsel in distress.” Sylvie tried to hide her shock that he had actually seen the film.
“I’ll have to watch it again then, if I missed the point. Are you a classic movie buff?”
