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“I’m not keeping tabs. And I hope you’re not either. Besides, you’d be doing me a favor by letting me pay. Iwaslate and I feel bad about leaving you sitting here wondering.”
Connor had bitten his tongue to ask why Trey hadn’t at least called or texted, but he felt like he’d be a nag if he did so. “Okay.”
“Good.” Trey turned the check so it was facing him and then groped in his pocket.
Connor was stunned to see him bring out not a credit card, but crumpled bills in various denominations, some wadded up, others folded. Concentrating, Trey counted out the check’s total, which Connor couldn’t resist taking a peek at.
“They include a tip in this, right?”
“I believe so.”
Connor couldn’t believe Trey was leaving a pile of crumpled and none-too-clean-looking bills on the table. But he bit his tongue. People didn’t pay in cash for much of anything these days, but he supposed some still did. Instead of questioning how Trey was paying for their dinner, he simply said, “Thank you very much.”
“No worries. Maybe you can get the next one?” Trey raised his eyebrows in a hopeful, and kind of bewitching, way.
When Connor said nothing, Trey added, “I’m hoping for a next one. I don’t care who pays.”
What could he say? He wasn’t entirely sure about seeing Trey again, although he had done a lot to redeem himself, so he simply nodded.
After the bill was settled and they were getting ready to leave, Trey touched Connor’s hand for a moment. “Feel up for company?”
“What do you mean?”
They headed toward the doors to exit into the busy Capitol Hill night.
“I guess I’m asking, with head bowed, for a do-over for the last time.”
Connor cocked his head, scanning the traffic going by on Nineteenth Avenue. He knew what Trey was hinting at, but he really wanted to make this just dinner, nothing more.
Trey gripped Connor’s shoulder. “You know what? I’m sorry. Let’s part here. Keep things cordial and respectable.” His face lit up with a smile. “You have a good night. And I’ll be in touch.” He leaned in and planted a quick kiss on Connor’s lips. “Be safe getting home.”
And he walked away, leaving Connor surprised and watching for the yellow of a cab in the traffic.
Maybe the guy wasn’t a dud, after all.
Connor walked for a ways, feeling a bit of an afterglow from the date—or maybe the half bottle of wine combined with the rye he’d drunk. The cool, damp air didn’t chill him but felt invigorating on his face.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he stopped underneath the awning of a closed vintage clothing store to check it. There was a text from Trey that made him smile.
I had a great time tonight. Thanks for giving me a second chance. <3
Connor stared down at the screen, unsure of whether he should just leave it alone. But he couldn’t. For one, the attention was flattering. And for another, one of the few things he understood about texting was that the sender could see if you’d read it. So he texted back, feeling generous:
I did too.
He sent that off and then thought about it some more.Oh why not?It made him feel good to simply be nice.
Looking forward to the next time.
He stood under the awning for several minutes, watching traffic and passersby, phone in hand, waiting for another text.
But none came.
Chapter Ten
MIRANDA NEVER THOUGHTof herself as the cloak-and-dagger type. The idea of following someone on a dark night was the stuff of thriller movies and books. Jealous spouses, PIs—those were the kind of people who tracked someone they were suspicious of. Stealth. Shadows.
Not her.
