“Here’s a thought,” I say, finally managing to swipe my car keys and shake them. “How about we all go out for breakfast? I think I know where we can get some great fairy pancakes.”
kenna
The espresso makeris back up and running, and the sun is shining the next morning after my return to Ephron. Not a moment too soon. After three rainy days without “their regular” hits of caffeine, many of the townspeople are starting to show signs of withdrawal.
Xander pops into the diner for a matcha latte and claps when he spots me back at my regular station. “Thank the Lord,” he says. “Our Legendary Lady of Latte is back.”
“Yeah, Xander. I think everyone is glad old Bessie here is fixed,” I say pointedly, patting the espresso maker.
“Righhhhht.” Xander nods and takes a seat at a two-top near the door. “Anycelebsightings?”
“Nope,” I say, busying myself with the steamer. I don’t want to think about Rafe and how much I miss him. It’s killing me, knowing he’s still here in town, so close. I wish I’d made copies of all the photos I took in Disney with him. But would seeing those photos make it any easier? The only photo I do have is the one that Naomi took on my phone of a sleeping Rafe and Orly. She hadn’t deleted it, and neither have I, though I know I probably should. Why torture myself?
I had my fun. I’ll have to be satisfied with the memories. I wonder if he likes the photos I took.
The thing about a fling with a celebrity is that you can’t just get it on and get over it. There are reminders everywhere. On television and in magazines. On the Internet, and on that one kid’s lunch box when he sits at the counter with his mom. I know I’m never going to be free from that.
But none of these stony-faced and steely-eyed Titanium Man images of Rafe aremyRafe. My Rafe is goofy and solicitous and incredibly kind. Able to leap over a railing with a six-foot drop in a single bound when he’s concerned about his kid, but such a concerned citizen that he thinks tractors should have the right of way in farm territory. My Rafe Barzilay gives amazing back rubs and sings children’s songs in Hebrew to his daughter with the well-trained voice of a former boy band member. My Rafe …
Is not mine.
Mechanically, without thinking, I make drink after drink. I’ve got plans to hang with Georgia later today, after she gets back from her doctor’s appointment. She’s reached the point in her pregnancy where she’s starting to slow down a bit, and I’m pretty sure there’s no way she’ll be able to complete the business management course with me. But she can follow along online, and just the fact that she’s willing to do this in order to support me means everything.
“Morning,Kenna.” Noah Greenberg winks at me as he takes a seat at the counter. I notice he’s lost the cane and he’s barely limping. In fact, he almost seems to have a new spring in his step.
“Noah,” I nod. “How was your weekend?”
“My weekend was—”
He stops talking when he sees Lorelei. Her blonde curls are even crazier than mine, and she’s wearing aDNDsweatshirt with a pair of leggings and sheepskin boots. Car keys in hand, she throws open the door to the diner like she owns the place, spies Noah, and makes a beeline for him, all but jumping in his lap as she throws herself at him and kisses him passionately.
Everyone in the diner stops what they are doing to sit and watch the show the two of them are putting on. Including me. People start clapping. Xander wolf-whistles.
“God, I missed you,” she says.
What’s it been? One night?And then I realize how much I’ve missed Rafe in roughly the same amount of time.
“I missed you, too,” Noah says. “And don’t get me wrong, that was awesome, but uh, aren’t you worried the paparazzi might be taking pics?”
“They better be. I just paid a guy fifteen hundred dollars to park himself on a bench out there in Holm Square and get a shot of me smooching you.”
“Why would you do that?” Noah asks, still a bit breathless and distracted, which I’m guessing has everything to do with the way she’s still stroking his chest.
“Because I don’t have anything to hide. And also, I’m just setting the record straight. There have been some rumors flying around about me and another guy, and they are totally not true. There’s only one man I’m into at the moment.” Lorelei kisses Noah again, and I have to look away. The heat between those two.Noah Greenberg! Who knew?
I walk to the window and stare out, scanning the park across the street, looking for the paparazzi, but all I see is the old dude in the overalls—the same one I saw on Main Street when I was making the delivery to the theater, and who I saw again, delivering the milk and eggs at Rafe’s place. Weirdly, he waves. He couldn’t possibly have seen me looking out through the diner windows from that distance, could he?
I beckon Carlos over to have a look out the window. “Have you ever seen that guy out there on the bench before?”
But when I turn back to point the guy out, he’s already gone.
“What guy?” Carlos looks confused. “There’s nobody there.”
“That’s so weird. He was just there.”
Carlos shrugs, then gestures at Lorelei and waggles his brows. “Should we make Lorelei her mocha macchiato?”
“You knew?” I laugh.
