Page 6 of No Headlines Please

Still, my brow creased in confusion. "Yeah, but just look at me."

"I am."

"And what about you? Your shirt's a total mess. My fault, obviously. But I'm sure you don't want to go anywhere like that."

He didn't even look down. "I'm not worried about the shirt."

"Well, I am." I gave it a nervous glance. "It looks expensive."

"Don't worry, it's not."

Liar. But I didn't say it, because honestly, that seemed a little rude. And let's face it. Expensive to me probably wasn't the same as expensive to him.

"And besides," I added, "I'm sure I'd embarrass you."

"How so?" He gave me a long once-over. "You look pretty civilized to me."

Oh, for God's sake. "I didn't mean the way I'd act. I meant the way I look." And smell. I didn't think I was stinky, but after that sweaty hike through Chicago, I wouldn't bet my life on it. "I'd need to change…and probably shower, too."

He flicked his chin toward the nearby seating area. "Go ahead."

I stared where he'd just looked. "You mean…shower there?"

I sounded like a moron. I knew this.

What was I missing?

Maybe there was something down that short hallway? Like…did the building have a little gym or something?

I was still staring when he replied, "I mean, that's where I'll be waiting."

Oh. Of course. Feeling like a total idiot, I turned to face him. "Sorry, it's been a long day. Normally, I'm not so…" I wasn't even sure how to put it. Moronic?

In front of me, he waited, as if expecting me to finish the thought. But heck if I'd call myself a moron, so in the end, I settled on, "Disoriented."

He shrugged. "So you need caffeine." He didn't phrase it as a question.

He was right. I did need caffeine – desperately. But how would I pay?

I tried to think. Maybe I had a few dollars buried somewhere in my suitcase? Or maybe I didn't. And forget cash. The thought of standing in some coffee shop while my card got declined made my stomach twist with humiliation.

I'd already enjoyed that experience at the hotel.

Plus, my family had always been weird about money. The whole dynamic was stupidly complicated. And secretive, too.

But secrecy wasn't my style, which went a long way in explaining why I didn't quite fit.

Before I could stop myself, I just said it. "I can't, because, well…I'm actually kind of broke."

As soon as I said it, I wanted to take it back. "Not broke, broke," I added. "I just mean…I don't have any cash. And my credit card…it's not working."

This made him frown.

My face burned as I rushed to clarify. "But just so you know, I'm not asking for money. Or help. Or a sandwich. I'm doing fine. I'm just telling you, the coffee thing would be a challenge…at least right now."

His frown deepened. "So I'll buy it."

"Yeah, but that doesn't seem fair. I ruined your shirt."