Recognition.
“I see.”
“Do you? Because apparently I don’t.”
Zoe stepped beside me.
“Maybe you should leave.”
Luca looked only at me.
“If Chloe asks me to leave, I will.”
That irritated me almost as much as the secret.
“Don’t make this sound noble.
This morning I asked what you did.”
“I told you I owned businesses.”
“You let me believe that was all.”
His jaw tightened.
“Yes.”
At least he didn’t insult me by pretending otherwise.
I folded my arms.
“And our little routine? Monday.
Wednesday.
Friday.
Tonight.
Are you going to tell me those were all coincidences?”
For the first time since I’d met him, Luca looked uncertain.
That frightened me more than his confidence had.
“The first one was.”
My stomach dropped.
Zoe muttered something under her breath.
I stared at him.
“The first one.”
“Monday,” he said.
“I had a meeting nearby.
I stopped for espresso.
I saw you holding the door with your camera bag sliding off your shoulder while you argued with Mr.
Lynn about paying for a muffin he’d tried to give you free.”
Despite myself, I remembered it.
Mr.
Lynn had claimed the muffin was damaged because one blueberry had fallen out.
I’d called him a terrible liar.
Luca continued.
“Wednesday, I had another reason to be in the neighborhood.
I chose that café because I thought you might be there.”
“And Friday?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
He didn’t need to.
“You timed it.”
“Yes.”
The word hit harder than I expected.
All week I’d been carrying around the warm little possibility of coincidence.
New York was enormous, lonely and strange, and somehow two people had kept crossing the same square foot of it.
Except one of those people had started arranging the crossings.
“Tonight too?”
“No.”
I gave him a look.
“You understand why your credibility is suffering.”
“I do.
Zoe invited several collectors connected to one of my restaurants.
I was already attending.
