Another buzz echoed through the flat.Jay shot her a confused look.
"I didn't know you were expecting additional guests.”
"I'm not,” Claire said, with a sly grin.“Give me two seconds.I’ll be right back.”
She slipped out but left the door cracked.Jay followed her but stopped at the top of the stairs.He watched as she greeted a young man, mid-twenties, wearing a vintage Ziggy Stardust T-shirt and checkerboard skate shoes.He carried bags stamped with the logo of a popular gourmet burger joint.
"Forty-three pounds and fifty pence," he announced.
"I got it," Jay hollered down, reaching for his wallet.
"Absolutely not.My invitation, my treat," Claire called back.
She fished around the front pocket of her jeans, shifting her weight as she pulled a collection of wrinkled bills free.
"Keep the change," she told him, smiling as she closed the door.
Claire climbed the stairs, laughing when she looked up and caught Jay wagging an admonishing finger at her.During two weeks of lunch dates, he’d never let her pay for a meal.Of course he wanted to cover dinner too.Claire shook her head and shot him a look that said,sorry, buddy.
"How did you manage this?"Jay asked, following her into the tiny kitchen.
"Manage what?"She placed the bags on the counter.
"I've called this restaurant before,” he said.“They donotdeliver."
"Sure they do.You just have to know how to ask."
"So, you weren't lying yesterday?About your lack of culinary talent.That story about the apple pie fiasco?"
She shrugged."One hundred percent true.”
"So, my dream of Apple Pie à la Mode for dessert…” he said, his mouth turned down in a pout.
"Will only happen if we decide to hit a diner later.Now, I have a lovely table reserved.Shall we?"
He made a flourish with his hand."After you, my good lady.”
They sat across from each other, candlelight illuminating their faces.Though the hour of their daily mealtime had changed, the flirtatious banter did not.Claire's cheeks ached with a familiar burn—an abundance of smiling.She fought to keep a straight face whenever he dipped a fry in her ketchup.Twice, his hand found hers, causing her insides to flutter.They hadn’t truly touched since the night at his apartment.Sure, they’d exchanged friendly hugs at the beginning and end of each lunch date, but nothing overtly physical—certainly nothing sensual.Now, as darkness settled around them, she could no longer deny how deeply that night still affected her emotions.
"Is everything still on track for your father's visit?"he asked.
"He lands Friday morning,” Claire said.“I hope you don't have any plans for Friday night.I want you to join us for dinner."
"I'd love to, but I don't want to infringe on your father-daughter time."
"You have to come.He's dying to meet the man behind the gift bag."
Jay leaned back in his chair."You told him?"
"Of course I told him,” Claire said.“I tell him everything."
"Everything?"Jay’s eyebrow arched.
"Well, noteverythingeverything, but most things."
"You're really close to him, aren't you?"Jay asked.
Claire shared a soft smile."We've weathered a lot of storms together."
