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Emily was removing the tea bag from her cup as he returned to the table. “Do you need sugar?”
“No, thank you. I don’t like sweet tea.”
He chuckled. “You’re clearly not a southern girl.”
Her eyes widened. “Definitely not.”
“So where are you from?” He leaned back in his seat and took a sip of black coffee.
She stared at him for a long moment. “West coast.” She took a tentative sip of her tea. “Where are you from?” She shook her head. “You were raised in Germany, weren’t you? But you’re American.” Her head tilted. “How does that work?”
He was as reluctant to talk about his past as she seemed to be. He smiled. They had that in common. “My parents ended up in a small town outside of Frankfurt after some business dealings went very wrong.” He said it with a light tone and glinting eyes, so it appeared to be a joke, though it was close to the truth.
She studied his face, frowning.
He shrugged and took another sip of coffee. “Did you find that on the internet?”
She shrugged and traced the design on the lid of her cup. “I don’t know where I heard it.”
The silence grew heavy. “I thought about what you said about the Dvorák.”
“Really?”
“You were right. I can see how the rearrangement could make for an interesting listening experience.”
She gave a shy smile, looking back down at her tea.
“What do you do for a living?”
She pressed her lips together, tightening her grip on the thick paper cup.
Mark pursed his lips. Was there a subject she wasn’t touchy about? What the hell had he been thinking, asking her out for coffee?
“I’m a waitress.”
He waited for her to tell him the name of where she worked, but she didn’t elaborate. “Where at?”
“Why do you want to know?” The question wasn’t accusatory.
“Just trying to make conversation.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “This was a bad idea.” She stood. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come.” She hurried out of the shop and it took a good ten seconds to register she’d left.
He stared at the empty chair, then jumped up and ran after her after securing his violin across his back. “Hey!” He hoped she hadn’t gotten into a cab, but down the sidewalk, he saw her dark curls bobbing in the afternoon sunlight. He weaved through the crowded sidewalk and grabbed her elbow to make her stop.
Her eyes were wide as she turned around, and they filled with tears as she stared at him. “I’m not good company. I shouldn’t have agreed to meet you.” She tried to turn away, but he held on to her so she couldn’t escape.
“Emily, wait. I...” He sighed. “I don’t normally chase women.”
“Why did you chase me?”
“I don’t know.” He released her arm.
She drew her brows together and frowned. “You don’t know?”
“No.”
She searched his eyes. “You’re a strange man.”
