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The aroma of freshly ground coffee filled the small shop, making it a perfect complement to the baked goods in the display case beside the counter. A few muffins were on a plate under a glass cover by the cash register. But the cupcakes had looked too good.
Ethan led them to the small table to the side, rather than the vacant one by the window. Granted, it was steamed up from the warm, moist air inside, so maybe not as attractive as it might have been. Ethan took the seat with his back to the window, and she sat opposite him, sliding her messenger bag onto the floor.
“Is your laptop in there?” he asked her, removing his sunglasses and shoving them in his jacket pocket. He took a sip of his coffee and focused his deep blue eyes on her.
She nodded. She’d noticed he had it black, like her. Somehow in her transition from the US to Paris to Rome she’d become accustomed to strong black coffee that morphed into espresso.
“I have images of my artwork on there. To show the gallery owner.”
“I don’t suppose you have the exhibition you did in Rome on there, too, and would care to show me right now.”
She frowned. “Maybe later. Back in Somerton Lake. It’s a bit awkward here.”
“Of course. Sorry, I was really curious, but I can wait. But I’ll hold you to that.”
“Okay.”
She was surprised at how glad she felt at his interest, but that interest also set off a small bout of nerves. The nerves were so familiar she discounted them immediately. He probably wouldn’t remember anyway, and she certainly wouldn’t offer.
“So,” she said. “That’s me explained. Why are you here?”
He took a big bite of his cupcake, chewed a little, and washed it down with another mouthful of coffee. “Needed that,” he said. “It’s been a long day. I was in meetings with the band I write music for. Admin stuff, mostly.”
“Really? That sounds interesting.”
He shook his head. “Believe me, it’s not.”
“What exactly does it entail?”
He shrugged. “Stuff. Sound and production checks on things already recorded. Discussion of new songs.”
Kate raised her brows. “Ooh. New songs? Did you have some to give them?”
Ethan grimaced, avoiding her gaze. “Uh, no. Not really.”
She studied him, noticing the slight tension around his eyes and mouth. “Not really? Is that another phrase for ‘no’?”
“I’m kind of stuck.”
She nodded, put a hand over his. “I’m sorry. I know that’s not easy, and not everyone understands.”
He snorted. “No, not everyone understands. Especially the label when they’ve lined up the band’s next tour.”
“Shit,” she said. “Really? Do they have to record an album before they tour?”
He nodded. “There’s a couple of songs in the bag. But that’s all.”
“How many do you need?”
He shrugged. “More than that.”
“But can’t any of the band members write some? Or at least help? You know, bounce ideas off each other.”
He laughed. “Yeah, you would think so, but it’s mainly me.”
“What’s the band’s name?”
He gave her a sidelong look. “Are you telling me you’re thinking you might recognize it?” His tone was teasing all of the sudden and it made her grin.
