“Magic.”
“Ugh,” she rolls her eyes, “I can’t escape you.”
“Are you trying to escape me? Because last I checked I was here first, you could always leave?”
“Don’t spew your weird man logic at me.” She speaks to my back since I’m facing forward. “I’m craving ice cream and I’m going to have ice cream.”
“I just so happen to want ice cream too. Seems we’re at an impasse.”
She becomes silent behind me and I’d think she’d decided to leave if it weren’t for the heat searing into my back from her stare.
It’s my turn to place my order and I smile at the girl working the register. “Hi, I’ll have the turkey, apple, and brie sandwich with fries and two scoops of the peach ice cream.”
She rings me up and I pass her enough cash to more than cover my order and whatever Alba gets. “This is for her order too,” I whisper low enough for Alba not to hear.
The girl peeks over my shoulder and smiles. “That’s sweet,” she whispers back. She dips out my ice cream into a cup and passes it across the counter to me. “Your sandwich and fries will be out soon if you want to take a seat.”
I grab a plastic spoon and take a seat at one of the booths tucked into the corner. I’ve only taken two bites of ice cream—I couldn’t resist—when Alba storms over simmering with barely controlled rage. Her hackles are raised and she looks like some sort of avenging warrior. My treacherous dick starts to get hard. I’m way too attracted to this woman for my own good.
“You took the last of the peach ice cream!” Her shriek draws looks from the other patrons.
“Uh … I didn’t know?” For some reason it comes out as a question. “You want some?” I hold out the cup of ice cream to her.
“I don’t want your ice cream.” Her hands go to her hips as she glowers at me. The glasses she sometimes wears slide down her nose, but she doesn’t bother pushing them up. “I want my own.”
“But … they’re out according to you. Should I go in the back and churn more?”
Do you even churn ice cream or is that butter?
She throws her hands up. “I just don’t understand what it is with you and messing with my life all the time. Now that you’re back you’ve already stolen my pen, my coffee, and my ice cream.”
I point my spoon at her. “I didn’t intentionally steal your ice cream so there’s a difference.”
“You didn’t have to pay for my order either,” she continues to rant, “I am a smart, independent woman and I don’t need a man’s help for anything. I’m fine on my own.”
I quirk a brow. “I apologize if I offended you or any way implied you’re incapable of taking care of yourself. I was just trying to be nice.”
“Well, stop!” she cries, desperation on her face. I swear even her eyes look a little glassy. “I don’t need you. I never needed you. I can handle things just fine on my own.”
I sit in stunned silence as she tucks tail and runs out the door.
The girl that had been working the register brings my sandwich and looks from me out the window to Alba’s retreating figure. “Why is she running away?”
“Honestly?” I let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “I have no idea. Did she get lunch?”
“Mhmm.”
“Can you bring it to me? I’ll drop it off for her.”
“Sure thing.”
I throw my ice cream away, not able to stomach it anymore after that encounter. Normally our banter excites me, but today it’s left me with a heavy feeling in my stomach.
It isn’t long before the girl is passing Alba’s lunch to me. I had planned to eat here, but there’s no point now.
Stopping in front of the door for Between the Lines I take a deep breath, not sure what wrath I might be facing this time. But when I open the door Alba isn’t in the main area. Astrid sits at the front counter and there’s a guy at a station with a client.
Astrid arches a brow at me, fighting a smile as she flicks a gossip magazine closed.
“To what do we owe this pleasure?” She flicks her hair over her shoulder, glance darting to the back where Alba must be.
I hold up the bag of food that’s hers. “She forgot this.”
Astrid’s brow furrows. “Did you guys get lunch together?”
I shake my head. “Accidentally.”
She throws her head back and laughs. “The fates are playing a cruel joke on my lovely boss.” She holds her hand out for the bag and I pass it over. “I’ll give this to her.”
I hesitate for a second, rocking on my feet. “She’s okay, right?”
My brother’s tumor and death is still a fresh wound for me and it makes me feel particularly uneasy about the people around me. I never used to be paranoid, but when you see someone in their early twenties cut down so quickly it’s a hard pill to swallow.
“Yeah, I’m sure she’s a little overwhelmed with … everything.” I linger for a second and she smiles like she senses my worry and hesitation. “I’ll check on her, go on back to work.”
Clearing my throat, I utter a barely audible, “Thanks.”
Back across the street the door hasn’t even closed behind me when Jess eyes the sack of food in my hands. “I thought you said you were eating there?”
I walk past her, heading toward my office. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Dropping the bag on my desk I collapse in the chair, my head falling to my hands. Confusion rages through me, all because of the crazy woman across the street and I have no idea what I’m going to do about it. I’ve always been able to let things roll off my back and not be bothered about what people think of me, but when it comes to Alba, I find myself wanting her to like me and I can’t shake the feeling there’s something I don’t understand.
Chapter Six
Alba
“Knock, knock.”
“You know, most people would actually knock.” I look up from the desktop computer to find Astrid standing in the doorway. My eyes zero in on the brown paper bag in her hands with a fox logo. “Where did you get that?”
She strides further into my office and sticks her arm out, the bag swaying. “Lover boy dropped it off. Did you run out on your secret lunch date?”
Snatching the bag from her I peek inside and find my sandwich and bag of chips. “There was no secret lunch date. It was coincidence that we were there at the same time and as you can see, I left because of it.”
She perches her butt on the end of my desk. I’ve never been a physically angry person before, but I find myself wishing I could shove her off.
“Stop being so immature, Alba. You’re nearly thirty. You’re a business owner. You have a good head on your shoulders.” She ticks everything off on her fingers. “Travis is back for good. You have to tell him.” Her eyes stray to the playpen in the corner of the room where Dahlia snoozes peacefully, milk drunk from the bottle I fed her before I went to get my own lunch.
My shoulders slump with the weight of the guilt I’ve been carrying around. “I know.” I bury my face in my hands. Letting them drop I face her with tears in my eyes. “I tried, remember? When I found out I was pregnant I tried to tell him.”