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She blinked under layers of black kohl eyeliner and silver eye shadow, then recognition dawned on her face. “Charlotte? My, my, you look…different!” She recovered herself quickly, and her over-painted lips turned down in their usual tight frown. She glanced over my shoulder at Noah, and I saw her eyes widen slightly but she said nothing; she wasn’t about to show she’d been caught off-guard twice.
“Hmmph? Breakfast?”
“No, we’re just here to see—”
“Conroy! Get over here.”
Anthony strode across the entry and swept me up in his arms. He lifted me clear off the ground in a huge bear hug before setting me down and holding me at arm’s length.
“You’re looking good, girl!”
“That’ll do, Mr. Washington,” Maxine said, swatting Anthony’s arm lightly with a menu. “After he’s done making a scene, Anthony will take care of you,” she told me and left to attend other customers with a final, parting smirk.
“Who’s your friend?” Anthony asked casually though he flashed his eyes comically at me.
“This is Noah Lake,” I said, beaming. “Noah, this is my good friend, Anthony Washington.”
Noah offered his hand uncertainly. “Good to meet you, man.”
“You too, you too.” Anthony reached over and shook it heartily, though he was looking at me and bursting with questions. “Hey, I got just the table for you…”
“Oh, we can’t stay,” I began, but Noah nudged my elbow.
“I can stand one more omelet from here if you can.”
“You sure?”
“Hang out with your friend, Charlotte. I’m good. Or I will be once we sit down, and I don’t feel like everyone’s staring at me.”
“No one’s staring at you.” I saw Clara rushing over, her eyes wide, auburn ponytail flying. “Well, almost no one.”
“Charlotte?” Clara cried, as if we hadn’t seen each other in years, instead of the last time I picked up an order, a few weeks ago. “Howareyou?” She engulfed me in a hug, then quickly—very quickly—turned to Noah. “Hello, I’m Charlotte’s friend, Clara Burns.”
“Noah Lake.” He offered his hand again, stiffly, in her general direction, and I could tell he was losing his patience.
Clara took his hand in both of hers and held on tight. “A pleasure. Charlotte told us she was working for you, but she totally failed to mention how adorable you are. And tall! What, six-four? I’m five-seven and you just tower over me!”
He smiled thinly. “I’ll take your word for it.”
Clara wasn’t put off. “I love your sunglasses! You get to wear them inside, right? Like Bono? Very cool.”
Anthony swooped in and hustled Clara back to work, and I leaned into Noah. “What did I tell ya about the women? She even used ‘adorable.’”
“You can’t see it, but I’m rolling my eyes at you behind my sunglasses. That I wear inside. Because I’m cool like Bono.”
Anthony led us to a table in his section—a two-top by the window where passersby strolled the sidewalk on the other side. He started to hand us two menus, then stopped, wincing apologetically. I took one and waved off the other. A split second before the silence would have made Noah self-conscious, Anthony cracked a joke and then left to get us coffee.
I glanced at Noah. He sat stiffly, silently, and I started to feel guilty that this was too much for him. A busser came by—someone I didn’t recognize—and dropped off two glasses of water.
“Water on your right, about two o’clock.”
“Thanks,” he said and eased a breath. I thought he was glad for something to do with his hands while I perused the menu.
“What are you in the mood for?” I asked.
“You,” Noah said, “but I’ll settle for eggs Benedict. For now.”
“Aren’t we saucy today? I thought we were going to take it slow.”
