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“No. It’s just me.”
“Do you want to share a table?”
Striker looked around the crowded restaurant. There was only one booth open; even the counter was full. “Sure. Okay. Thanks.”
As soon as they were seated, Striker regretted his decision. He had zero interest in small talk or getting to know the woman seated across from him, as pretty as she was.
“Are you visiting Pismo?” she asked.
Striker nodded. “Leaving today.”
“Oh. Where’s your next destination?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“Maybe I could talk you into staying another day,” the woman said, her cheeks turning a sweet shade of pink.
“The truth is, I’m on a bit of a sabbatical.”
She nodded, still smiling and, evidently, not giving up.
“What are you sabbating?”
He smiled. She was clever. “Women.”
“Uh, oh,” she laughed. “I’ve sabotaged you already.”
“I’ll get back on track when we’re finished with breakfast.”
“She must’ve done a number on you.”
“She?”
“Whoever sent you on your sojourn.”
“Truth is, it was me, not her.”
“That’s what men always say. Unless it’s a divorce, and then they blame the ex-wife.”
As uncomfortable as he’d been when they sat down, Striker found himself enjoying their conversation far more than he’d expected to.
“You remind me of her,” he said, surprising himself.
“Uh, thank you?”
“Yes, that’s a compliment.”
“In what way?”
“Do you remind me of her?”
The woman nodded. “By the way, my name is Annie.”
Striker laughed. “Her name is very similar.”
“What else? Since you didn’t know my name.”
“I’m Griffin, by the way.”
