He nods. “They pop up at the worst times, don’t they?”
He has no idea.
This ghost is definitely the haunting variety, and his presence is incredibly unsettling. One thing is for certain: someone tipped him off that we would be here. There’s no way this is coincidental.
I clear my throat and smooth out the skirt of my black midi dress, attempting to focus on Tanner. But Luke is in my peripheral vision, and it’s kind of hard to concentrate.
Exhibit A: Tanner just asked me a question, and I have no idea what it was.
Get it together, Claire.
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “Can you repeat the question?”
“Of course,” he says, giving me a kind smile. “I was just asking where you grew up.”
“Burbank,” I say, trying to shake off the presence of Luke Wilder and focus on my date. “Practically born and raised. I’m a Burbanker or a Burbankian, depending on who you ask.”
“Right,” he says. “I love the beef chili at Chili John’s.”
My eyebrows lift in surprise. “You’ve been to Chili John’s?”
It’s rare to meet a nonnative who knows anything about Burbank other than the studio tours.
“A few times,” he says, the corner of his mouth pulled up just slightly and a dimple appearing.
I think under normal circumstances, this man would have me feeling some serious butterflies. Instead, thanks to a certain annoyance two tables away, I’ve got a pit in my stomach and what I can only describe as the opposite of butterflies. Antibutterflies. Moths, maybe.
I force myself to focus on my date. “Where are you from?”
“I grew up in Oregon . . .”
I’ve tuned him out once more, as Luke is now looking over at me again, this time using his menu to hide his spying from his date. When he sees me, he gives me a sly smile.
Crap. What is he up to?
“. . . but then my family moved to the Glendale area, where I finished high school,” Tanner says, and I definitely missed the whole middle part of that.
“That’s crazy,” I say, and he gives me a questioning look.
“Crazy?” he asks.
“Yeah, I mean, my, um, mom went to high school in Glendale.”
This is a complete lie. She grew up in San Clemente.
“Really? Which one? Was it Glendale High? Is she a Dynamiter?”
“I . . . um . . .” I stammer, trying to think of an answer.
I could throttle Luke. His presence has got me so flustered that I’m making up stories and not paying attention to myvery handsomedate.
I need him to leave.
I make a snap decision, holding up a finger at Tanner. “I’m so sorry,” I say. “Can you give me a minute?”
“Of course,” he says.
I stand up from my seat. “I’ll be right back.”
