“It’s—”
“Complicated?” Ellen rolls her eyes. “Told you. Code for feelings.”
Delilah turns from the counter with her coffee, finally looking up from her phone. Her eyes scan the room, casual and unhurried?—
Until her gaze lands on me.
I see the exact moment she registers my presence. Her step falters. Her grip tightens on her cup.
And then she does something I don’t expect. Instead of bolting for the door, she squares her shoulders and walks toward me.
“Hey,” she says. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“I didn’t know you’d be here either.”
Ellen watches this exchange with undisguised fascination.
“This is Ellen,” I hear myself say. “She was giving me advice about my muse situation.”
“Oh yeah?” Delilah’s lips twitch.
“It’s a whole thing,” Ellen says sagely. “He’s creatively blocked. I told him he needs to fall in love.”
“Did you?”
“It’s solid advice.” Ellen shrugs. “Ask anyone.”
I start to stand, because this conversation isheading somewhere dangerous and I need to redirect it. “Let me get you a chair?—”
What happens next unfolds in slow motion.
I push back from the table. My chair scrapes against the floor. Delilah steps forward at the same moment, probably thinking she’ll just slide into the booth across from me.
We collide.
Her coffee goes everywhere.
I meaneverywhere. My shirt. The table. The bench seat. A splash hits my notebook, and I lunge to save it, which only makes things worse because now I’m pressed against Delilah, who’s stumbling backward, and her cup is still somehow emptying its contents in a seemingly endless stream of hot liquid.
“Oh my.” Delilah’s face is the color of a tomato. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t—your guitar, is your guitar okay?”
I grab the case and pull it to safety. “It’s fine. It’s fine.”
“Your notebook?—”
“It’s okay, nothing important?—”
“Your shirt is soaked, oh my goodness?—”
We both reach for the napkin dispenser at the same time. Our hands collide. We freeze.
She’s close enough that I can smell her shampoo.Something floral. Of course it’s floral. She works with flowers all day.
“Sorry,” she breathes.
“It’s fine,” I say, except my voice comes out rough.
We stare at each other for one beat. Two.
