Evan

Her bottom lip quivers when I offer her my apology. She looks pale and tired. I won’t tell her that because I’ve known enough women in my lifetime to know that some take offense when offered an unwanted opinion.

“You were scared.” She looks into my eyes. “You did nothing wrong. Whatever I felt was because of stuff from my past. That’s not on you.”

She’s kind. I pushed her to reveal details about herself that were incredibly personal. The woman doesn’t know my last name or where I work yet I know that she’s suffered through a painful experience in her pursuit to have a child.

“Let me make it up to you.” I look over at the large paper cup that the barista is pushing toward her. “I can take you for something to eat.”

Her hand falls to the front of her coat over her stomach. “My dad and I must have eaten some bad fish. We both picked up a trace of food poisoning. I’m sticking to tea for today.”

I pick up the cup and put it in her hands. “Do you want to talk? I have a couple of hours before I need to be back at work.”

She looks up at the circular clock that’s hanging on the wall. “You have to go back to work at eight? You are a doctor, aren’t you?”

I see no reason to hide behind a veil of mystery anymore. The scale of information between us is unbalanced. I need to right that. “I’m a surgeon.”

Her gaze falls to my hands. “That’s why you’re so good with your hands.”

I welcome the playfulness more than she could ever know. “They’re gifted.”

“I’d agree with that.” She sips the tea. “This is hot. We can sit while it cools and then I’ll head home.”

I’ll take it. The lead weight in my gut is finally disappearing. I know she’s okay and willing to talk to me again. Suddenly, everything feels right in my world again.

***

“So you’re a hockey fan?” I arch a brow. “Why does that surprise me?”

She exhales audibly. “I grew up in a home with three brothers and a dad who loves sports. I had no choice but to get invested in it.”

I laugh. “When you put it like that, you probably know more about the sport than I do.”

She circles her palm around the bottom of the cup in front of her. “I haven’t followed it as closely as I used to. Work keeps me crazy busy.”

It’s an opportunity for me to ask the question I’ve been dying to. I have her pegged as an accountant or executive. She’s always sharply dressed and I’ve never seen her in this café without her leather briefcase in her hand.

“What do you do for work, Chloe?”

Her eyes widen as she picks up the cup and takes a drink. She holds it next to her lips a moment too long. I know she’s contemplating whether she should answer the question or not.

I rescue her because I don’t want a repeat of our last conversation when I pushed for more than I should have. “If you’re not comfortable telling me, it’s not a big deal. I just keep imagining you as an accountant.”

“An accountant?” She laughs through the question. “I’m not an accountant. I’m a lawyer.”

A lawyer. It’s impressive.

“You look surprised,” she goes on. “I’m sorry that I had to destroy all those accountant fantasies you’ve been having.”

It’s my turn to chuckle. “Not a problem. I’ll jerk off to images of you in a courtroom now with fuck me heels on and an attitude.”

“Fuck me heels?”

I tilt my chin down. “You’re wearing a pair today.”

She is. They’re red and high. Her shoes are the perfect accent to her black blouse and pants.

“I didn’t realize they were called that.” She leans back to cross her legs. “I’ll be thinking about that the next time I wear them to court.”

“What type of law do you practice?” I push for more because I crave details about her.

“It’s my turn to ask a question.”

I’m mildly disappointed that I didn’t get more out of her, but I’m content. “Ask away.”

She considers what she’s going to say before she finally opens her mouth to speak. “Rangers or Islanders?”

I wasn’t expecting that. I was prepared to tell her my last name when asked, but if she’s more interested in which New York-based hockey team I cheer for, I’ll tell her. “Islanders.”

“Me too.” Her mouth breaks into a wide grin.

I take a leap with my next question. “Do you want to go to a game with me sometime?”

“You’re serious?” She props her elbows on the table. “I haven’t been to a game in years.”

“I’ll make it happen.”

I will. I’ll grab a pair of tickets from Jack and convince Jordan to cover for me at work. I had no idea when I got to this café today that I’d be leaving with the promise of a second date with Chloe. Things are definitely looking up.