I didn’t know you would be here.”
Zoe looked at me and gave a reluctant nod.
“His name was on the guest list before tonight.”
That should have relieved me.
It didn’t.
I picked up his card.
“How did you even know what time I’d be at the café?”
Luca’s eyes shifted toward the gallery floor.
“I asked Mr.
Lynn whether you were a regular.”
My mouth fell open.
“You asked Mr.
Lynn about me?”
“Only whether you came often.
He said most weekdays around seven fifteen.”
I could picture Mr.
Lynn cheerfully giving away the information while believing he was helping a romance unfold.
My anger sharpened.
“Did you ask where I live?”
“No.”
“Where I work?”
“No.”
“Did you have anyone follow me?”
His answer came instantly.
“Never.”
“Did your men know who I was?”
A pause.
“After Friday morning, yes.”
I almost laughed again.
“Fantastic.”
“Not because I ordered anyone to watch you.
They know the people I speak to.
That is part of my life whether I like it or not.”
“Your life,” I repeated.
“The one you forgot to mention.”
Luca looked down for a moment.
When he raised his eyes again, the polished restaurant proprietor was gone.
He simply looked tired.
“I didn’t forget.
I chose not to tell you.”
That honesty landed differently.
Not better.
Just cleaner.
“Why?”
“Because for ten minutes in a crowded café you spoke to me like I was just a man drinking bad espresso.”
“Mr.
Lynn’s espresso is excellent.”
A faint smile touched his mouth.
“There.
That.”
I didn’t smile back.
He continued.
“Most people who know my name decide what I am before I enter the room.
Some become frightened.
Some become flattering.
Some want something.
