“I'll hold you to that.” He winks at me as the door slides open, his hand gesturing for me to go first.
“Thank you,” I tell him, hurrying out of the building before I get myself tangled up in another conversation. I really should start taking the service elevator. It will save me from the uncomfortable elevator rides and the small talk.
The trek to the coffee shop isn't far. I should try out a new place, but I keep thinking about the eclairs I saw yesterday and want to try one. Once inside, I order it and a hot chocolate. I snag the same table as I had yesterday, slipping off my coat and pulling my Kindle out. I settle in, enjoying the simple sounds of light chatter and laughter coming from the two employees behind the counter. This feels normal. Not cold and lonely like my new place.
Wow, I'm really losing it if I have to go out to a coffee shop to feel less alone. I pull up the cozy mystery I was reading as the bell over the door chimes and a tall man wearing a wool overcoat steps inside. His eyes glance around the shop. He appears out of place. This man shouldn't be picking up his own coffee.
It doesn’t go unnoticed by me that I’m not the only one that is watching him. The chatter suddenly seems a bit quieter. I try not to stare, but it’s almost impossible. It’s as though everything around me is happening in slow motion. My focus is solely on him, taking in all of his features.
His dark hair looks a bit disheveled, but it fits him perfectly. Even though he’s wearing an overcoat, it doesn’t hide how broad his shoulders are or the fact that he has an equally expensive suit on under it.
When his perusal of the coffee shop gets to me, he pauses, our eyes locking. I suck in a breath as we hold each other's stare, unable to look away.
“Your hot chocolate.” The barista breaks the spell I've fallen under.
“Thank you,” I tell her.
What is wrong with me? Am I that lonely? Never have I had this kind of reaction to a man, and as terrible as it is with me being a married woman and all, I don't want it to end.
Chapter Six
WICK
She’s looking at me. Really looking, and I’m annoyed because she’s married so she shouldn’t be looking at any man. It doesn’t matter that I’m the one she’s married to.
“What will you have?” The barista is cheery.
“Whatever she just ordered.” I jerk a thumb in Annabelle’s direction, who suddenly stares out the window instead of at me.
“Hot chocolate?” The woman sounds unsure.
I’d drink bleach if that was what Annabelle thought was tasty. “Yes.”
“Here or to go?”
Annabelle’s hands are curled around a cup. “Here.”
I move down to the pickup area of the counter, watching her the whole time. She’s staring resolutely out the window despite the Kindle lying on the table in front of her. I wonder what she reads. Picking up the hot chocolate, I arrow straight for her table, and without asking, I drop down into the chair across from her.
“There are other tables open,” she says.
“I like the view here.” I want to say,I’m your husband. Husbands sit at the same table as their wives.Of course I don’t. The deal was that she would never have to have contact with me,and here I am, two days into the deal, violating the basic terms. She could sue me for breach. I don’t move.
“The view being me? That’s new but also weird.”
“Why weird? You’re gorgeous.”
She presses her lips together, as if trying to prevent herself from speaking her mind. I want to hear everything, though, so I push. “It’s okay if you think I’m weird?—”
“I’m married,” she blurts out.
I smile. I like hearing that. “You have a big ring on your finger. Your husband must provide well for you.”
“He does.”
My hands are ringless. I spread them wide on the table so she can see. “Have you been married long?”
“Should you be asking me these questions?”
