Page 56 of The Woman from the Past (Grassi Framily)

Which was the last thing I needed. But all I had for the next several hours as I waited for her work to finish. Then her dinner to conclude.

And then, finally, I could call.

We were both careful, though, not to discuss the kiss. Or anything personal at all.

Which, I had to remind myself afterward, was for the best.

Keeping things impersonal was how it needed to be.

She didn’t even ask if we were going to meet at the coffee shop for her next shift break.

Which I figured meant we weren’t going to, or that she was regretting the kiss.

Until I got a text from her early one morning when she must have already been at work.

We need to meet. It’s an emergency. 3 o’clock. The back alley of the coffee shop.

Shit.

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