It was London.
“Anyway,” Rudy continued, “he dumped her real hard, so she came back to town to lick her wounds. Hold on. I think I got a card for them too.” He rummaged through the cards again and handed Sam one for Esposito’s Used Cars.
“Thanks.” Sam dropped his luggage off in his room, then pulled out the card to study it. That had been too easy. If he believed in fate, he’d think it was pushing him toward this meeting with Annie. He might as well get it over with. He got back in his car and drove to the dealership.
Located on the edge of town, Esposito’s Used Cars took up half a city block, a larger and neater-looking organization than Sam had envisioned. He pulled into an empty space in front of the office and was about to get out of the car when he stopped cold. In theory, the idea had seemed simple, but what was he supposed to say to a woman he’d never met before?
Becks probably had a script written for the occasion, but Sam couldn’t simply walk into the office, go up to Annie and tell her to get a life.
He’d have to sit her down. Explain to her that while he appreciated that she’d taken the time to write him a letter, she shouldn’t break up with her boyfriend (what was his name again? Oh yeah, Walter) because of anything he’d said on television.
Two women came out the front door to the office, purses strapped around their shoulders, and walked over to their respective cars. Neither of them looked like the photo Becks had shown him on the website.
It was after five thirty. More than likely, the office was closing up. His stomach grumbled violently. All he’d eaten today was a stale granola bar at the DFW airport. What if Annie got all emotional? Or worse, what if she cried? He couldn’t deal with that on an empty stomach.
He’d been too hasty coming here. His best course of action was to get some food, followed by a solid night’s sleep. Then, with a clear head fueled by some caffeine, he’d come back first thing in the morning to have their talk. Of course, he could be too late. That letter was probably written a week ago. She could have already broken up with Walter and all this could be for nothing. Not much he could do about that, though. He’d promised Becks he’d do this, so he would. Once he’d taken care of this Annie Esposito business, his conscience would be clear, and he could get in some fishing.
Now, where to eat? According to the GPS, his options were limited to a few chain restaurants, some fast-food places, a couple of beachside joints and a local diner called The Miramar Café that had a lot of five-star reviews. The diner it was.
He followed the directions into the small downtown area, which consisted of one major street paved with cobblestones. Dividing the street and right across from the diner was a roundabout where a statue of a Spanish conquistador holding a sword in the air stood in the middle of a grassy knoll. There was a post office and a doctor’s office, a flower shop, a bookstore and several empty storefronts, all with For Lease signs in front.
He’d just parked his car when his cell phone rang. It was Becks.
“I hope you’re on your way to Atlanta,” he said.
“Well hello to you too. And yes, Mom and I are at the airport. She says hi by way. So,” Becks said breathlessly, “have you met Annie yet? Is she as terrific in person as her letter?”
“I’m saving that for tomorrow. By the way, wasn’t there an episode of Single Gal on last night?”
“Yep. The first hour was all pre-taped, then the last hour was live. You won’t believe it, but the Duck is still there,” she said in disgust. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I was hoping this new episode would take the heat off me.”
“The guys who got kicked off last night were total losers. They interviewed one of them on Good Morning, USA, and Kelly Seacrest literally yawned in his face. The whole thing just made you look more awesome.”
Not what Sam wanted to hear.
“Oops. Gotta go,” said Becks. “They’re boarding the plane. Text me the instant you meet Annie. Mom and I want to hear all about it.” She hung up before he could tell her not to get her hopes up.
Sam left his phone on the car console and walked into the diner, where the smell of home cooking made his mouth water. A friendly-looking redhead wearing a black skirt and white shirt greeted him at the door. “Welcome to The Miramar Café.” She picked up a menu, then led him to a booth with a window that faced the roundabout. Her name tag read “Connie.” “Our Tuesday night special is the meat loaf, but everything here is good.”
He didn’t bother looking at the menu. “Then I’ll have the meat loaf.”
“You won’t regret it.” She smiled carefully. “Are you new to town?”
Something in Connie’s tone put him on alert. “Yep. I’m just here for a few days of fishing.”
“Oh, so you’re a tourist?”
“Yep.”
“Huh. We don’t get many of those. Most tourists go to St. Augustine.” She cocked her head to the side like she was trying to figure something out. “I swear I’ve seen you before.” Then she snapped her fingers like it just occurred to her. “You know who you look like? This guy who was on Single Gal. You know, the reality TV dating show? His name is Gas Station Sam.”
He tried not to flinch at that ridiculous moniker. He hated lying, but the last thing he wanted was to be asked to pose for another selfie and end up on someone’s Facebook or Instagram page. Or worse, have her call one of those nosy “journalists” who’d hounded him at the airport. “Never heard of him. My name is Roy.” He made a mental note to pay with cash.
“Really? Because you’re the spitting image of—” The door to the café opened, causing Connie to whip around. Her face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Tuesday night at six. Right on time.”
Sam followed her gaze to the couple who’d just walked into the café. The man, mid-thirties, wore a suit and the woman was … holy hell. She was taller than Sam had envisioned from her picture, but there was no doubt that this was Annie Esposito. If she got a look at him, he’d be outed.
He snatched the menu from Connie’s hand and held it up to hide his face. He didn’t want to have to explain lying about his identity, and he certainly didn’t want to have his talk with Annie here in the middle of a busy restaurant. Especially not in front of her boyfriend. That is, if the guy she was with was her boyfriend. He could be her brother, for all Sam knew.
“Did you change your mind about the meat loaf?” Connie asked.
“Uh, no,” said Sam, his face still hidden inside the menu. “Meat loaf is good. I’m just looking ahead to dessert.”
“In that case, the key lime pie is our specialty, but I can also recommend the chocolate chip fudge cake.”
“I’ll just keep looking, thanks.”
“Suit yourself. I’ll bring you some water.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Annie and the guy in the suit walk past him.
“Hey, Annie. Hi, Walter,” Connie called out. “I got your usual booth ready for you.”
So, this was the infamous Walter. If Annie was having dinner with Walter, then it meant Sam wasn’t too late after all. He tried to relax, but fate was being a real bitch tonight because their “usual booth” was the one directly behind his. The only thing that now stood between him and Annie was a thinly cushioned partition.