Page 41 of Always Almost You

“I did.” She smiled. “And I still do. I love it.” She locked the classroom door behind them. “Thank you for appearing out of nowhere.”

“Feels like destiny,” Mike said lightly.

She laughed. “Let’s not tell our mothers that. They’ve never given up hope.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I’m happy here,” she continued. “And you’re rooted in L.A.” She hesitated just long enough to acknowledge the shared past. “Besides, I’m seeing someone. It’s early, but I think he might be the one.”

A faint current that might once have been longing passed between them and dissolved.

“I’m glad,” Mike said sincerely. They reached her car.

“How about you?” she asked. “Found your person?”

Mike inhaled slowly. He thought of a rerouted flight and a hotel in Raleigh. Of flannel pajamas. And a woman whose eyes and smile were etched into his brain. A woman who he had no idea how to find. He gave Megan a small, honest smile. “I’ve been on the dating apps, without success,” he said. He reached down and ruffled Buddy’s ears. “For now, this guy’s enough.”

Buddy leaned against his leg as if to confirm it.

Megan studied him for a beat, sensing something more there. “Well,” she said, “whoever she is, she’s going to be very lucky.”

Mike watched her drive away.

Buddy pressed his head against Mike’s thigh. Mike looked down at him. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I’m working on it.”

CHAPTER 29

Lauren and Pumpkin scurried up Mary Street from Thames, the wind at their backs propelling them forward in bursts. They bounded up the hotel’s stone steps, breath puffing in white clouds. Pumpkin paused at the ceramic water bowl beside the door and drank deeply.

The bellman, watching from inside, opened the door the moment she finished. “Welcome back,” he said, his voice as warm as the heated air of the lobby. “Did you have a pleasant day?”

Lauren stepped inside, rubbing her reddened hands together. “We did. This is the most charming, utterly unlike-California place I’ve ever visited. I can’t wait to see more.” She gestured to Pumpkin. “As you can see, we found her a sweater. But I should’ve bought myself gloves.”

He grimaced as he looked at her hands.

“As you predicted, a restaurant welcomed us inside for a late lunch. I had the best clam chowder of my life. And you were absolutely right about the weather turning.”

He nodded sagely. “I’m always ready for that kind of shift, even if the day begins pleasantly.”

“Is there somewhere in the hotel I can get a cup of tea to take upstairs? I’m chilled to the bone.”

“The bar would be happy to accommodate you,” he said, gesturing left, “but you might prefer the library.” He pointed through a pair of double arches draped in garland threaded with tiny white lights. “You can order tea there.”

“But I have Pumpkin.”

“That’s perfectly fine. We don’t consider the library a restaurant, even though guests can order drinks and light fare. It’s quiet this afternoon. The usual local Tuesday Mah Jongg club is there, but they’re reduced to one table because so many are busy getting ready for the holiday.”

Lauren unwound her scarf and loosened her hair from her collar. “I’m learning to play at home,” she said. “I’d love to watch.”

“Enjoy,” he said with a sweep of his arm.

She stepped into a large room paneled in deep evergreen. Bookcases lined the walls, filled with leather-bound volumes and art glass objects that caught the light. Framed oil paintings of seascapes and Gilded Age portraits covered one wall. Oriental rugs divided the space into intimate seating areas, each with sofas, overstuffed wingback chairs, and carved wood tables. Fresh-cut arrangements of evergreens, roses, and berries supplied a festive scent. In one corner, four women sat close around an antique game table, the familiar clack of Mah Jongg tiles punctuating their conversation.

Lauren eased into the end of a loveseat behind them. Pumpkin circled once and curled at her feet, pink sweater layered over festive pajamas. From her vantage point, Lauren could view the racks of tiles.

A server in a crisp black dress approached without disturbing the players. “We have a lovely afternoon tea menu,” she said, handing Lauren a navy leather-bound card. “You’re welcome to order just tea, of course. But we also have scones, croissants, and petits fours.”

Lauren skimmed the selections. “I’m in the mood for something different from Earl Grey or English Breakfast,” she said. “What do you recommend?”