Page 22 of Only Fate

I bet that would make them shut up.

Margo stops by my table for the third time and taps her pen against a notepad. “Ready to order yet or still thinking?” There’s a hint of pity in her tone, like she knows I’m being stood up.

“I’ll, uh …” I open the menu. “Take another coffee.” My gaze scans the options. “And a club sandwich with fries.”

Margo offers me a sympathetic nod and shuffles toward the counter. She yells my order to the cooks through the small window.

I don’t want another coffee, and my appetite is nonexistent, but I also don’t want Margo to kick my ass out for taking booth space. Chances are, Essie isn’t coming, but I’m too nervous to leave. There’s still that chance shewillcome, and I don’t want to be gone if that happens.

I pick up my phone, play with it in my hand, and consider texting Essie to ask if she’s coming.

That’d sure make a man look desperate.

More desperate than moving to a new town to win her back?

“Adrian?”

I peer away from my phone to see Ava standing at my booth. We’ve only been introduced once, years ago, but I still recognize her.

I rest my phone on the table. “That’s me.”

“I’m Ava.” A smile cracks at her lips. She’s trying not to show she’s about to give me shit. “Essie asked me to pick up whatever you had for her. Something about an email written on paper?”

Ah, she sent a courier.

I run a hand through my hair. “The paper is for Essie’s eyes only. Sorry.” There’s no hiding the disappointment in my voice.

“She couldn’t make it. Something came up.”

“Something like?”

“A hot date.”

My back straightens against the booth. “With who?”

Even if she told me a name, if it was someone local, I still wouldn’t know who it was.

I grab a sugar packet, tear it open, and dump it into my coffee that I know I won’t be drinking.

“You wouldn’t know him.” She holds out her hand, but herface softens when she notices my reaction to Essie’s rejection. “Sorry, I’m only the messenger.”

I gesture for her to sit, but she doesn’t. “Did Essie tell you to do anything else?”

“She said not to conversate with you or like you. Oh, and if possible, throw a pie at your face.”

“Well, good thing I haven’t ordered pie yet.” Relaxing in the booth, I drape my arm along the back of it. “What does Essie normally order here?”

Her brows scrunch together. “Why?”

“Since she bailed on dinner, I’ll order her a meal to go, and you can drop it off to her, along with the paper. I never go back on my word to buy someone dinner.”

Ava pauses, contemplating my offer. “Fine, but I’ll tell Margo the order and wait at the counter for it. And I’monlydoing this because we never turn down a Shirley’s meal.”

I wanted Ava to sit here and wait for Essie’s food so I could pick her brain apart and ask all the questions about the girl I’d lost.

Instead, I’ll be here in this booth, rehashing all my regrets.

Ava walks to the counter and talks with Margo. After Margo rings Essie’s order in, she delivers my food. I pick at the toasted bread while watching Ava wildly text on her phone. My guess is, it’s with Essie.

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