I slip the door of Beanie closed and take a seat at my favorite spot; a stool at a bar in the window, looking out over our street. Pulling out my laptop, I take a sip of coffee then get to work on another blog post. It doesn’t take long until I’m in that sweet spot where I can write easily for ages, without having to think or try too hard. Flow, I think they call it. It’s so good to get into this space, because—
“Any more runaway dogs?” I hear from behind me.
I flinch. God, there are some real lunatics in this city. I lean in closer to my laptop, avoiding the presence I can feel hovering nearby.
A throat is cleared. “I, ah, saw you through the window and thought I’d come say hi.”
Oh. I think that voice is talking to me.
I look up from my laptop to see Michael gazing at me. He gestures to the empty seat beside mine. “May I?”
Oh, right. He was talking about Stevie.
I give him a small nod, taking in the playful expression on his face. He might find it amusing, but losing Stevie was terrifying. And I’m still a bit anxious after everything I said to him, everything that has happened between us.
He sits on the stool, placing his coffee on the table, and stares out the window in front of us, not saying anything.
I shift awkwardly, my fingers poised over the keys. I can’t keep writing with him right there. I glance at him from the corner of my eye, wondering if he has anything more to say or if he’s just going to sit there, making me uncomfortable. Despite myself, I notice he’s looking very nice in a wool coat, sweater and jeans.
After a while he turns to me. “So, I think I owe you an apology.”
I let my gaze slide back to my laptop and run my finger along the space bar. This should be interesting.
“I think maybe I’ve been kind of rude to you.”
I raise my eyebrows, still avoiding his gaze. I guess I can’t disagree.
“Look, we didn’t exactly meet under the best circumstances,” he points out, and I cringe, thinking of the coffee soaking into his fancy shirt. “But, besides that…” He softens. “I think I’ve been kind of a jerk.”
I twist in my seat to look at him, concealing a little smile behind my hand. “And why was that, exactly?”
He’s quiet, fiddling with his coffee cup as he stares out the window again. “I’ve been in court the past couple of months, dealing with… something.”
I narrow my eyes. “What did you do?”
He snorts as he looks back to me. “Why do you assume it was something I did?”
I open my mouth, then close it again, feeling a bit sheepish. I don’t know why I assumed that, but he does have a point. “You’re right. Sorry.”
He releases a long breath. “My ex has been trying to get full custody of Henry, if you must know. It’s been a stressful few months.”
I feel a rush of compassion. After reading about him and his son, about how cut-up he was in his divorce, I can understand why he’s struggled with that so much. No wonder he’s been feeling so resentful and angry towards women. I guess being in court explains why I kept seeing him in suits.
“Anyway. It’s all over now and she didn’t win, which is a relief. But it was a nasty ordeal, especially for Henry.” He runs a hand over his beard, his eyes distant, then he fastens his gaze back on me. “The other day when Stevie escaped, I felt really bad. Afterward, I thought a lot about what you said. You’re right; I’ve been an asshole. You caught me at a bad time, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, and I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”
I suck my bottom lip into my mouth, letting my eyes roam over his handsome face. “It’s okay. I don’t blame you for being mad about the coffee. And that’s awful about your ex. I’m sorry you had to go through that.” We sit in silence for a while as I try to find the courage to say what I really want to say. Eventually, I take a deep breath. “I, er, might owe you an apology too.” I reach down into my bag and pull out my copy of his book, placing it on the table between us.
His eyebrows shoot up, then his face breaks into a smile, then—I can’t quite believe it—he laughs. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him smile, let alone laugh, and my lips part in surprise. The deep chuckle that rumbles from his chest is so delightful it’s as if sunlight has burst in through the window, lighting up his face and warming me through until my whole body is humming.
Whoa.
I pull my gaze down to the book in my hands, remembering the awful things I said. “I’m so sorry. All that stuff I said—”
“It’s okay.” He holds his hands up, giving me a wry smile. “I know it’s not my best work. I’ve made my peace with it.”
I shake my head. “I loved it, I really did. When I said all that stuff, well, I hadn’t actually read it.”
He chuckles again. “Yeah I kind of figured, based on your comments regarding—what was it?—the topography and mountain ranges.”
My cheeks warm. “Yes, well. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He takes a sip of coffee, not lifting his gaze from me. “So you’re from New Zealand, right?”
I nod.
“And Henry said something about breaking up with your boyfriend?”
I grimace, recalling how I spilled my guts to Henry in the hallway when I was trying to cheer him up. But how was I to know Michael was
