Miranda’s grin wavered. “That’s good,” she said, sincerity creeping in. “Really. A nine-to-five and all that. Takes balls.”
“Trying to grow some,” Nate replied.
Miranda’s gaze flicked back to Allegra, curious but not assessing. Allegra resisted the urge to straighten her spine, to suddenly appear more impressive, more worthy of whatever silent comparison was happening in her own head.
“Well,” Miranda said brightly, stepping back, “I’ll let you get back to it. Nice to meet you, Ella.”
“Nice to meet you,” Allegra echoed.
Miranda squeezed Nate’s arm, then turned and left, ponytail swinging behind her. The café seemed to exhale in her wake. Cups clinked. Someone laughed near the counter. Normal life resumed.
Allegra’s espresso arrived. She wrapped her hands around the cup, mostly to keep them from fidgeting. “So,” she said lightly, “that was something.”
Nate grimaced. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”
Sorry about what, Allegra wondered.The interruption? Or the way he’d looked at that woman, like they shared a shorthand she wasn’t fluent in?She took a slow sip of her coffee, eyes fixed on him over the rim, and set the cup down.
“So, what did you want to tell me?”
He shifted in his seat, scratching his forearm. “Honestly? Nothing major. Just wanted to apologize again for how weird last night got.”
Allegra suspected he was holding something back. The urge to call him on it flared. But the irony wasn’t exactly subtle. The man didn’t even know her real name. She bit her tongue and let it slide. For now.
“Okay,” she said. “So, plates and artifacts when I’m done with this coffee?”
He blinked. “Hard no.”
Relief lit her face. “Excellent. I could really use some air. There’s a botanical garden nearby.”
“I’m in.”
***
The path through the botanic garden curved lazily, meandering like it had all the time in the world and not a single care for destinations or deadlines. Allegra envied that.
She risked a sideways glance at Nate.
He strolled beside her, hands jammed into the pockets of his shorts, shoulders broad enough to block out the morning sun. He moved like he always did—loose, unbothered, as if gravity worked differently on him. Like he could carry you out of a burning building.
Or into one.
Her pulse ticked higher. Irritating.
“So,” she said, clearing her throat but still managing to sound like she’d swallowed sandpaper, “you mentioned you were leaving soon. That means you’ve got flights locked in?”
A muscle twitched in Nate’s jaw. He didn’t look at her, his gaze fixed somewhere ahead of them, on a point in the distance she couldn’t see.“Yep,”he said, his voice flat.“Turns out the ‘flexible’ in my fare had limits. Home to LA in two days.”
“Eager to get back?”she asked, her stomach tightening as she waited for his answer. She told herself she didn’t care. That it didn’t matter. That she was just making conversation, filling the silence like it was any other morning with any other person.
“Not really.”
The words slipped out of him, unvarnished and honest, and they hit her square in the sternum. Allegra exhaled, her chestsuddenly too tight, her fingers twisting around the strap of her bag. She didn’t know what to do with that answer. Didn’t know how to file it away in the neat little boxes she kept her life in.
They walked on, the path crunching underfoot, the scent of earth and green things rising around them. The garden was lush, vibrant,alive—so different from the carefully manicured grounds of the palace, where every leaf was placed with intention, every bloom approved by a committee.
“What about you?” Nate asked after a beat. “Sticking around?”
Allegra swallowed, her throat dry.“Oh, I’ll probably fly home,”she said, forcing a lightness into her tone that she didn’t feel. “Next couple of days, I think.”
