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He shakes his head wryly. “I will wait on your couch while you change.”
“I like me just the way I am.”
“Is this because you’re afraid someone will recognize you? Because if you’re trying to go incognito, there are better ways to do it than”—he motions toward me—“this. A velociraptor? Seriously?”
“Well, look at you, knowing your dinosaurs.” I smile brightly. “Mason gets a gold star. And the costume stays. Hey, you were the one who assumed I had no plans and no social life and I’d jump at the chance to have dinner with you.”
“Point taken.” He leans against my doorway. “What if I cancel the reservation at the restaurant I’d been planning on, and take you somewhere there’s no chance of paparazzi showing up?”
I consider this. “Fine. You may wait on my couch.”
I head off to my bedroom and return in fifteen minutes, now dressed like a human. Well, a human who doesn’t want to be recognized. I have my hair pinned up in a bun and I’m wearing a stylish Hermès-print scarf over it. My dress is a flowing turquoise blue caftan style, hiding my figure, complete with glasses, which were actually part of a librarian costume from a few years back. I can’t help but wonder what has become of my life.
He looks me up and down and nods approvingly.
“Good enough for you?” I say to him.
“Sexy librarian fantasy,” he replies.
I’m smiling as I follow him out to a green Escalade. “Wasn’t this blue last time?” I ask him.
“It’s not Beck’s. It’s mine. I liked his, so I bought one for me. I figured I should be visiting my dad more often, and also I might occasionally want to come and kidnap you and take you to parts unknown. You work too hard.”
He’s thinking about the future. Don’t panic, don’t panic...
“You’re walking really fast,” he observes. “Incredibly eager to spend the evening with me?” He opens the passenger door for me.
“Thinking of making a run for it,” I say dryly, and slide into my seat. He leans in and grins.
“Don’t bother. I have really long legs. I’ll catch you every time. Buckle up for safety.” And he shuts the door and walks around to the driver’s side.
Half an hour later, we’re in Teaneck, New Jersey, a city whose name sounds vaguely dirty to me and always makes me laugh. When he pulls in to a little vintage railway car diner, at first I think he’s kidding. Mason Raker is not taking me to a tiny dive diner.
But he walks around to my door and opens it. I slide out and look up at the sign, which saysThe Night Owl Caféin blinking neon letters.
The door to the diner opens and a gray-haired woman steps out, wearing an apron.
“Seriously?” I cry out.
He gives me a sidelong glance. “You wanted incognito,” he says, his thick brows drawing together in a frown.
“I know. I love diners so much. My parents used to take me and Ruby to our local diner all the time. This is fantastic.”
He lets out a sigh of relief. “Whew. I was afraid... well...” He starts walking towards the diner.
The woman at the door gives him a hug. “Mason. Look at you.” she beams. “I haven’t seen you in so long.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry; it’s the season.” He smiles apologetically. “You’ll be seeing me a lot more when the season’s over, I promise. And this is my friend Rowan.”
She ushers us inside. The smell of coffee and griddle-burgers brings unexpected tears of nostalgia to my eyes. All of the seats at the counter and most of the booths are taken.
“He never brings his lady friends here,” she adds to me. “You must be special.”
“Maria,” he groans.
To my surprise, she grabs me and hugs me too. She’s plump and grandmotherly and smells like flour, and I don’t want her to ever let go. Finally, she does, stands back, and looks me up and down approvingly.
“Any friend of Mason’s is a friend of ours. Paul’s babysitting the grandkids tonight. He’ll be so disappointed we missed you.”
