It’s too late. She’s already out the door. The wind sweeps through the restaurant as she vanishes into the street.
Stupid. Stupid. What did I think? That I’d just show up, buy her a cookie, and we’d, what? Pick up where we left off? I scoop up the remainder of her things, stuff them in the satchel she left behind Cinderella-style, and debate going after her. Of all the idiotic ideas?—
The door swings open again, and my head snaps up.
Chloe stands just inside. Her hair, now wind-tossed, hangs over her shoulders. She looks…just as gorgeous as I remember. Those freckles across her nose. Flushed cheeks, nose pink from the cold. And those big brown eyes…which I realize are staring at me like she’s seen a ghost.
That’s fair.
She draws in a breath, waits for a waiter to pass, and then marches back through the café, her gaze turned anywhere but me.
She comes to a stop in front of me, the top of her head barely reaching my chin, but she doesn’t lift her head. “I need my things.”
I hand over the disheveled bag, trying to duck into her line of vision. My voice comes out rough. “Chloe, please. Could we just talk?”
She reaches for the satchel, but I don’t let go just yet. Our fingers brush.
“Please,” I add softly.
Chloe finally meets my gaze, and something in her eyes makes my heart stutter.
“Wow! It’s Candy Kane!”
The voice comes from behind me—young, female, way too enthusiastic for the havoc it’s about to wreak on my life.
No.
No.
Not now. Not here. Not when I finally?—
I turn slightly and pull Chloe a little closer to me—it’s a reflex, really—but it manages to tuck her next to me as I face a girl in her early twenties, who is standing there, phone already out, eyes wide with that particular brand of fan excitement that means this is about to become a whole thing.
She’s wearing a Blue Ox hoodie. Great. One of mine.
“I can’t believe it’s really you!” She’s bouncing slightly. “Can I get a photo? Please? My friends are never going to believe this!”
I feel Chloe stiffen beside me.
My brain does that thing it does under pressure—rapid calculation, risk assessment, exit strategy formation. In about two seconds, I catalog:
We’re in Ironclad (cozy, local, witnesses)
This fan has her phone out (already filming? Taking pics?)
Other people are starting to notice (three customers turning to look)
