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A nod. “We met at a sweet-sixteen party. We’ve been close ever since—close enough that it’s ridiculous for me to mix her up with someone else.” She shook her head, utterly baffled. “But you could be twins.”
“Yeah . . .” Gia reluctantly handed Sarah back her phone. “My name’s Gia Russo,” she said, extending her hand to shake Sarah’s. It was time to reciprocate the info sharing. Poor Sarah had the right to know the specs on her friend’s double—if for no other reason than to laugh about it over drinks. “I’m a wedding planner here in the tristate area. And you were right about my accent. I didn’t always live here. I spent my childhood in Bozeman, Montana.”
“A wedding planner?” Sarah looked intrigued as she met Gia’s handshake. “That must be quite a job in this area. Oh, and I’m Sarah Rosner.”
“Hi, Sarah.” Gia grinned. “And if you mean, is my job rewarding but overwhelming, the answer is yes.”
Before Sarah could reply, she was jostled by two women in business suits, who blew by her and nearly knocked her down. She regained her balance, gazing ruefully after them. “I’m not used to this. Minneapolis is hectic, but nothing like New York. Plus, I kind of think we’ve outworn our Fifth Avenue welcome.”
Gia nodded. “Yeah, no surprise.”
“You look exhausted, or I’d suggest we grab a drink.”
“Normally, I’d love to.” Gia was frank. “But it’s a Friday in May. I have two weddings tomorrow and a wedding on Sunday, not to mention a dozen texts to answer and a venue to scout out in between. All the brides are, understandably, frantic. I really need to get home, do some work, and collapse.” She dug in her purse and gave Sarah a business card. “Here’s my contact information—just in case your friend wants to laugh over the coincidence.”
“Can I take a picture of you?” Sarah asked.
“Sure.” Gia waited until Sarah had taken a couple of cell-phone shots. “Now I really have to get going. It was a pleasure to meet you.”
“You, too. I’ll pass along your info and picture to Dani.”
“Good. Take care.” Gia turned and headed for the subway station. So much for a taxi. The streets were fast becoming gridlocked.
She could sense Sarah staring after her until the crowd swallowed her up.
CHAPTER 4
It was just before noon the next morning when Casey walked down Waverly Place and passed under the awning that read “Joe’s.” She stepped inside the coffee shop and inhaled appreciatively. The decor might be as plain as a fast-food restaurant, but the wonderful smells of just-brewed coffee and mouthwatering baked goods dr
ew the patrons’ attention where it belonged.
Besides, she wasn’t here for the food. She was here for the meeting.
She glanced around, searching for the person who matched the photo Brianna had showed them on her iPhone. Nope. Not here yet. Not really a surprise. Casey was early. And very few students did the early thing. That’s why Casey had chosen noon rather than her preferred breakfast meeting, which wouldn’t have broken up her workday. But a Saturday morning in academia-land meant sleeping till eleven—and then rolling over and zonking out until three. Casey remembered it well.
She bought a latte and a chocolate croissant and scanned the room. The side to her left was filled with little tables that were one on top of the other, all of them packed with university students. The other side was quieter, with several larger tables set wider apart for those who wanted to work while they ate.
Focusing on that section, Casey was relieved to spot an empty table right up front, next to the radiator and flush up against the glass storefront. Her and Lina’s only company would be the guy at the next table, who was pounding away on his keyboard, so absorbed in what he was doing that Casey doubted he knew there was a world around him.
Casey claimed the table before someone else could. She settled herself, placing her carefully wrapped croissant and latte on the wooden tabletop and her handbag on the empty chair beside her.
Reflexively, she checked her cell phone. No missed texts or calls. No important emails, just junk. Which hopefully meant that Lina was on her way.
Sipping her latte, Casey gazed up and down the street. A light stream of pedestrian traffic and an even lighter stream of cars. Brick buildings all in a row. And lots and lots of bicycles, some with riders and many more chained up along the sidewalk.
Somehow—based on Brianna’s iPhone photo—Casey didn’t visualize Lina as a bike rider. So she kept her scrutiny on the pedestrians. She wanted to spot Lina as soon as she arrived.
Sure enough, at twelve ten, a young woman with straight, shiny, almost-waist-length dark hair hurried to the front door and stepped into Joe’s. Casey had time for a quick assessment, which only confirmed what she’d noted in the photo Brianna had shown them. Lina was one put-together girl. She wore expensive, trendy clothes—a black silky rag & bone top and designer AG Jeans—and sunglasses that were worthy of Rodeo Drive. When she pulled them off to scan the coffee shop, Casey could see that her makeup was impeccably applied and that her nails were professionally manicured.
Definitely not a poor girl.
“Lina?” Casey stood, beckoning her over.
Lina walked over to the table. “Hi. You must be Casey.”
“I am indeed.” Casey shook her hand. “I really appreciate you meeting me. Why don’t you get coffee and one of these unbelievable chocolate croissants and then we can talk.”
Lina smiled, one of those face-lighting smiles that was pure sunshine. “How did you know my weakness? And they are unbelievable. I’ll be right back.” She reached into her Louis Vuitton handbag and pulled out a ten-dollar bill, then leaned across the table to drop her bag alongside Casey’s.
