It takes a second to register.
I squint. There's something familiar about the jawline, maybe the movement, but I can't place it.
He disappears down the sidewalk.
I turn back.
"Was that—"
Tristan appears beside the table with my latte before I finish the sentence.
He sets it down in front of the empty seat, crosses his arms, and looks at the group like a disappointed teacher.
"Mr. Double Espresso?" He tilts his head toward the window. "Yes, it was."
Nadia doesn't try to look innocent. "He's very symmetrical."
"And age-appropriate," Liv adds, still watching the window.
Priya shrugs. "And employed."
Tristan's eyebrows go up. "The reason you're all together." He pauses. "Wait. No. I’m the reason you’re all together. I’m the one who noticed you were all acting like high schoolers trying to get the cute boy's attention."
The three of them grin like they've been caught red-handed.
I slide into the booth and wrap my hands around the latte. "I couldn't place him at first."
"Well, that's because your brain has locked onto a certain hot photographer," Nadia deadpans.
Tristan turns his attention to me. His eyes narrow. "You should use eyeliner and lip gloss more often."
My hand goes to my face. I press my fingers against my cheekbone to hide the evidence.
He winks at the others. "She's glowing."
"I am NOT glowing." The words come out too fast.
Tristan's grin widens. "I'm guessing this has something to do with the hot photographer?"
My face heats. "Tom is—we're just—"
"Don't even try it," Priya says.
Liv leans forward. "You ARE glowing."
Nadia points at my face. "You're wearing makeup on a Monday morning. You never wear makeup on Mondays."
I pull my hand away and grip the latte again.
"I have a client Zoom at ten." My voice is steady. Controlled. "I wanted to look professional."
All three of them look at me.
Tristan looks at me.
The synchronized skepticism is damning.
Someone's phone buzzes. The door chime rings.
