“Where’s a decent place to grab an espresso and a bite to eat around here? I’m still getting my bearings in Orange County.”
Before I could answer, Kathy, the store rep, chimed in. “There’s a lovely little café near the pier. Great coffee and pastries.”
“Thank you,” Lucas said, turning back to me. “Care to join me?”
I hesitated. It wasn’t like I was doing anything wrong. I wasn’t having an affair. I was free to have coffee with anyone I wanted. And Lucas seemed… harmless. This could just be a friendly, professional outing.
“Sure,” I said, trying to sound casual. “Let me just finish up with Kathy, and I’ll meet you outside.”
Kathy smiled warmly. “I’ll take it from here, dear. Go. Enjoy yourself.”
“Are you sure?” I asked in a low voice.
“Absolutely,” she said, waving me off. “Now go!”
Outside, Lucas was standing near his car, looking completely at ease.
“Ready?” he asked, straightening up when he saw me.
“Ready,” I said, adjusting my bag on my shoulder.
The café Kathy had mentioned was close by. As we walked, we chatted about the restaurant project, our shared love for design, and his transition to life in Orange County.
“I wasn’t certain I’d like it here,” he admitted, glancing at the ocean in the distance. “But there’s something about the pace of life that’s beginning to grow on me.”
“It’s a good balance,” I said. “Not too fast, not too slow. Plus, the weather doesn’t hurt.”
He laughed. “No, it doesn’t. And the people are… surprising.”
“Surprising how?”
“Let’s just say I wasn’t expecting to meet someone as lovely as you.” His accent highlighting the word lovely in a way that immediately made my cheeks warm.
I quickly changed the subject, asking more about his vision for the restaurant. By the time we reached the café, the conversation was flowing easily, and I felt more relaxed than I had in weeks.
Over coffee, Lucas shared more about his background, his years in London, his decision to move to California, and his dream of opening a restaurant that felt like a home away from home.
“I want it to feel warm and inviting,” he said, stirring his espresso. “Somewhere people linger. Not pretentious, but still beautiful.”
“That’s exactly what we’re building,” I assured him.
“I knew I was in good hands when Lori told me about you,” he said, his green eyes locking with mine for a moment too long.
I broke the gaze, focusing on my coffee. “So, have you met anyone else in the area yet? Friends, neighbors?”
“Not really,” he admitted. “Other than Jasper, of course. He’s my best mate and a chef. It’s been our dream for years to open a restaurant together. Between his culinary talent and my business background, we’ve always wanted to create something truly unique.”
“That’s good,” I said. “At least you’ve got someone close by, to share your vision with.
“True,” he said with a small smile. “Though he’s so busy experimenting with recipes, I barely see him. But having him around has made the move a bit easier.”
He told me he grew up in Sussex, attended Oxford University, and had one younger sister, Maura, who worked as a writer in London. His life sounded polished, fascinating—like something out of a novel.
He mentioned he’d been married once but had no children. The marriage lasted only a year. When I asked what happened, he gave me a wry smile. “She ran off with one of my closest mates. Can’t say I saw that coming.”
The way he said it carried the faintest edge, a shadow of bitterness beneath the humor. I debated sharing more about my own situation but decided to keep it vague. “I’m recently divorced,” I said, conveniently leaving out the messy details.
Lucas mentioned his recent move to Laguna Beach. “I bought a small ranch-style house. It’s cozy, but it has potential,” he said.
