“You close the gym early ninety percent of the time,” Liam argued. “It’s why you’re nearly broke. Right now, you’re peeping on a movie star in a bakery. Be grateful.”
I didn’t comment, because I was already texting Nora. She’d want to know. She’d want to be here, in all probability.
Iwantedher here.
Ann and her movie star ordered at the counter and then strolled toward the back of the establishment. She threw me a wink before sliding into a seat at a nearby table, facing us.
And that brings us to the present moment. About thirty minutes have passed since they first sat down. George Cronin has been monologuing the whole time. It’s gone on for so long now, I wonder why he hasn’t needed to stop for water.
The tables around Ann and George have filled in with coffee drinkers who seem far more focused on what’s happening with the older couple than on their own business, but as for the rest of us…
Mick literally fell asleep, and Liam must have decided this was a boring mission after all, because he’s scrolling on his phone. Meanwhile, Ann, who was watching George with interest at the beginning of their date, is paying an awful lot of attention to her coffee cup.
And then there’s me.
I’m waiting forher. I know she’s coming.
Nora isn’t the sort of person who misses out on excitement,even if George’s presence is turning out to be more exciting than George himself.
Finally, I see her and her friends peeking in through the corner of the front window. Nora looks absolutely radiant as the warm summer wind plays with her dark hair.
I catch her eye and smile, feeling something lighten inside of me.
I pull out my phone and text her?—
I’m glad you didn’t die in a fiery blaze. But, seriously, make sure you have a fire extinguisher.
I watch through the window as she pulls out her phone, laughing when she sees the screen.
Seconds later, my phone buzzes:
Why are you suddenly so obsessed with fire extinguishers?
Also: WHAT’S HAPPENING IN THERE? ARE THEY MADLY IN LOVE YET? DO WE GET A REALITY TV SPECIAL? Because that might be the win I need. It would be almost as good as finding out who the Shirtless Chef is.
I glance at Ann’s table just as she yawns.
I write back:
It does not appear to be a love match. She’s been yawning a lot, and he keeps talking about himself. It’s a bit like one of those memoirs where the author reads the audiobook. At least we won’t have to threaten anyone.
She hunches over the phone again as Hannah nudges her shoulder, then writes:
Honestly, I was kind of looking forward to seeing that side of you.
I nearly groan out loud, then gather myself enough to respond:
I’ll show you. I can give you a stern talking-to about fire safety later. Maybe I’ll even wag my finger and tell you to respond to your messages.
She sends back:
Yes, daddy.
“Oh Christ,” I mutter.
“Right?” Mick replies in an undertone. “Nobody cares, man. I’ve been accused of being a shitty date, but this guy is next-level, and he’s interrupting my nap.”
Liam’s shoulders shake with silent laughter. I reach across the table and nudge his hand. “Your sister and your fiancée are staring through the front window.”
