“Well, Theo’s a good boy,” Xander promised.
Just as his friend from the bakery burst through the kitchen doors, carrying a tray of what I thought were chocolate brownies. He spotted us before my heart could so much as jump into my throat, face splitting into a broad grin as he set the brownies down on the counter.
“Your timing is perfect,” another man, with long blond hair, said from behind the counter, looking straight at Xander. “Who’s your friend?”
“Umm.” Xander looked between me and the blond, wetting his lips, apparently at a loss for words.
“That’s Seattle,” Xander’s friend—his other friend, I guessed—said, his eyes sparkling. “Do you know what time you were born, by the way?”
“Uh,” I said. “About five in the morning?”
“Perfect, thank you. What year?”
“Will you quit interrogating him?” Xander interrupted.
“I’m sorry,” the blond said. “That’sSeattle?”
Every inch of skin from the ends of my toes to the tips of my ears flushed at the once-over he gave me.
“Right?” the dark-haired friend said, quirking a brow at the blond.
“Guys,” Xander spoke up beside me. “C’mon.”
“Right, sorry, of course, we’re freaking you out. It’s just that we’ve heard a lot about you,” the blond said. “Since Xander is obviously not planning to introduce us, I’m Iggy.”
“And I’m Dante, since Xander also didn’t introduce us yesterday.”
“His name is Milo. He’s Dawn’s brother,” Xander said, scratching his arm under the short sleeve of his jacket.
Iggy’s face broke into a warm smile at the mention of Dawn. “Right, that makes sense. Same eyes,” he said. “Anyway, your timing couldn’t be better. Last batch of brownies for the day. New flavor.”
“Are you telling me what the new flavor is, or can I just have two to go with whatever coffee magic you’re about to work for Milo and my usual?”
“Coffee magic?” I asked.
“Trust me,” Xander said.
And despite how he’d reacted earlier, I did trust him. He’d never given me a reason not to, not really. Whatever had been behind that reaction, it wasn’t malicious. Xander was the sweetest person I knew. He raised foster kittens. He couldn’t have been a bad guy.
“I trust you,” I said.
“Make yourselves at home,” Iggy said. “I’ll be right out.”
Xander led me to a secluded booth in the otherwise almost empty coffee shop. There was an older lady doing a crossword puzzle in the opposite corner, and a man about my dad’s age absorbed by his laptop, letting his coffee go cold at his elbow.
I watched as Dante—what a name—reminded him of it and got a grateful smile in return.
“Small town,” Xander said, as though he’d been reading my thoughts. “How long are you, umm… Dawn didn’t say…”
“Mom’s at a conference in Paris,” I said, feeling the same swell of pride I did every time I talked about my mom. She was an art historian, and okay, she taught at the local community college. But they’d invited her to present research inParis. That had to mean something.
I didn’t understand everything about what she did, but I wished I understood more. I wished…
I wished I hadn’t let my dad talk me into studying business instead of photography, like I’d wanted to. But he’d offered to pay for business, so here I was.
“Yeah, I remember,” Xander said. “Small town,” he repeated.
“She’s coming back in two weeks,” I said. “I’m here until she does. Dawn needs the help and she didn’t want Mom to cancel the conference and the little vacation she had planned on her account. Besides, like she said… I haven’t had two minutes off in a row since I started working for Dad.”
