He winced. “Are you sure? That looks like a really nice shirt.”
I glanced down at the pale blue silk. “It was a really nice blouse.”
He groaned. “At least let me make it up to you.”
I should have refused. I had a daughter waiting at daycare. My life didn’t have space for charming men who couldn’t hold a coffee.
Instead, I heard myself say, “You can buy me a replacement coffee.”
He smiled like I had given him a gift. “Done.”
After that, he kept appearing.
At first, it seemed like coincidence. He showed up at the same café two days later. Then at the park near Diana’s daycare. Then outside the bookstore that Saturday.
At some point, coincidence turned into intention.
He asked for my number—and he actually used it.
Jack sent funny grocery store photos. He said things like, “I was thinking about what you said,” and somehow it never felt rehearsed.
