Hannah gripped her order pad like it was keeping her upright.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “This is insane.”
“Most interesting things are.”
She tried to laugh, but it fell apart.
“My ex is going to be at a wedding this weekend,” she said. “Alex. He’ll be there with Gloria.”
I knew the name.
Not because Hannah had told me everything, but because diners are bad at keeping secrets. Alex had once sat in my booth with her and talked over her for forty-five minutes. He wore expensive shoes, checked his reflection in the spoon, and corrected the way she pronounced “bruschetta” even though he was wrong.
Gloria, I’d never met.
But I knew the type from Hannah’s face.
“She’s beautiful,” Hannah said quietly. “Rich. Works in marketing. Always looks like she stepped out of a magazine ad for people who say ‘summer’ as a verb.”
