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Then, a sudden burst of low laughter carried over from the counter.

Sienna’s head snapped sharply to the right before she knew why she’d done it.

Standing by the sugar station was a woman with a wild tumble of blonde hair, wearing a yellow leather jacket. She was leaning against the counter, throwing her head back in a warm, uninhibited laugh while her companion paid for two filter coffees.

Sienna’s heart didn’t just leap; it exploded against her ribs. A rush of heat surged straight up her neck. Her fingers clamped around her paper napkin so tightly the corners tore off in her lap.

She’s here, Sienna’s mind screamed. She followed me. Or she’s on another date. She’s—

The woman turned her head to say something to the barista, her profile revealed.

It wasn’t Robin.

The jawline was different. The eyes were lighter. The jacket wasn’t even yellow; it was orange. It was just a stranger.

The sudden, brutal drop in Sienna’s chest left her feeling hollowed out, as if all the oxygen had been sucked from the coffee shop. The sickening wave of longing that had flooded her in those two seconds—followed immediately by crushing disappointment—was overwhelming.

Oh Christ. She was fucked, wasn’t she?

Fortunately, Claire was currently watching a dog walk past the café window, completely oblivious to the silent seismic event that had just occurred two feet away from her.

When Claire turned back, her smile was warm and unsuspecting. ‘Sorry, where were we?’

Sienna forced her hands to still. ‘Eliminating... instability.’

‘It’s really great talking to someone who actually gets it,’ Claire said warmly. ‘I’m really glad we decided to do this privately.’

Sienna looked at Claire—at her kind, open eyes and her genuine, uncomplicated smile—and felt nothing but guilt.

Because Sienna was sitting here using Claire as a human shield against her own feelings for Robin.

It hit her with ruthless, indisputable clarity: Claire could be perfect, and Sienna would still just be waiting for Robin. Robin, who thought Sienna was an uptight dork.

Sienna took a breath. She cleared her throat, cleared it again, and sat up very straight.

‘Claire,’ Sienna said. Her voice sounded slightly too loud. ‘I need to be direct with you about—’

BLAAART.

A deafening horn sound blasted out from Claire’s handbag. Two people at the next table turned around and stared.

Claire winced, her face going pink. ‘Oh, God. I’m so sorry. I thought I put that on silent.’

She shoved her hand into her bag, rummaging past a diary and a tampon, and pulled out her phone. She swiped at the screen to mute it, but her thumb froze halfway across the glass. She frowned.

‘Hmm,’ Claire mumbled. She squinted at the top of the screen.

Sienna sat with her mouth still open, her intention to nip this thing in the bud hanging dead in her throat. ‘Is everything alright?’

‘It’s... wait,’ Claire said. She tapped the screen and started reading. ‘It’s from that producer who contacted me.’

Sienna blinked. ‘Dora Jenks?’

‘She’s asking if I’m free next Tuesday,’ Claire said, reading off her phone. She tapped the glass again to scroll down. ‘She wants to know if I’d be up for doing a follow-up recording.’

Sienna stared at her. ‘A follow-up recording?’

‘Yeah,’ Claire said, looking up from the screen. She looked a bit bewildered, but mostly amused. ‘She’s calling it the ‘Double Date Special’. Me and you, and Robin and that photographer woman, Valeska. All four of us at some restaurant.’