than anyone on the planet, but she also knew him better than anyone on the planet. Tonight, he’d wanted to show her what it was like to go on a real date, to make her feel special. That was it. Falling for his many charms would be a waste of time. She’d been down that road before.
Shaking her head, Chloe gave him a slow smile. “I know what you’re doing.”
“Yeah?” He took a slow sip of his espresso, holding her gaze. “And what’s that?”
“You . . .” She leaned across the table until she could smell the spice of his cologne. “You are trying to get out of paying the check.”
Ben grinned. “Ah, Chloe,” he said. “You know me so well.”
Seventeen
That night, The Places You’ll Go hosted an event for an Indian cookbook.
Pakshi, the author, was a tiny woman who served up a whole lot of laughter. Walking from this side of the makeshift stage to that, she gave a brief lecture seasoned with jokes about the pronunciation of cumin, her first attempt at cooking laddoos and the trials of loving a man allergic to curry. She not only entertained the crowd, but sold a ton of cookbooks as well.
At the end of the night, Kristine stood at the door, saying good-byes and thank-yous to the regulars and a whole crop of new customers. Most of them were carrying shopping bags stocked with a freshly bought cookbook, travel guides or other trinkets.
When the last person left, Kristine surveyed the mess from the event. It really wasn’t bad, just a few dirty wineglasses lying around and trays of appetizers that needed to be stored or tossed in the trash. Annie, who had come in to help out, was assisting Ethan with picking up the trash.
Checking the time on her watch, Kristine was grateful that she’d make it home before Kevin. That would give her plenty of time to think of exactly what she needed to say to get him to agree to come to Italy. She’d left him a message earlier about it but he hadn’t called her back, which was not a good sign.
“Okay,” Annie said as Ethan tied up the trash bag. She tugged at her dress, an adorable eighties-style striped sweater she’d partnered with a pair of bright red leggings. “I have to hit the road. It’s movie date night.”
Kristine hesitated. “Annie, just five more minutes? And we’ll all be out of here?”
“Sorry.” Annie pulled a sad face. “Roger freaks out if he misses a preview. You know how it is.”
Actually, Kristine didn’t know. She and Kevin hadn’t gone to the movies in years. Would he care if they missed the previews? It was anybody’s guess.
“Okay.” She tried to keep the grumble out of her voice. Annie didn’t have to come in to help out at all. She’d done it to be nice, since she wasn’t certain Ethan knew how to run an event. But, of course, he’d done just fine. “Have fun. Eat some popcorn for me.”
“Absolutely,” Annie said. “Piled high with Milk Duds.” Blowing kisses, she darted out the front door.
Ethan laughed, watching her go. “She’s got spirit. I like her.”
Kristine picked up a stack of signed cookbooks and moved them to a display. The books smelled sharp and petroleum-like, as though they’d just been printed. Then she turned to see what else needed to be done.
“Ethan, I can finish everything up,” she said. “Thanks for all your help today.”
“I really don’t mind—” he started to say as Kristine’s cell phone rang in her pocket.
It was Kevin. Either his flight was delayed or he landed earlier than usual. “Excuse me,” she told Ethan. “I have to get this.” Rushing back to her office, she said, “Kevin? Hello?”
“Hey, Firecracker.” His voice sounded tired like it always did when he traveled. She could hear an automated announcement in the background and a blur of voices pass by. “Listen, I’m not going to make it home tonight. We had some . . . mechanical trouble.”
“What?” Kristine grabbed the edge of her desk and held on tight. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, it was just one engine. No big deal. When it’s two, well . . .” Kevin gave a little laugh.
Kristine’s eyes drank in the many photos of her family that decorated her desk, landing on one of her favorites. It was a picture of her and Kevin at the Chicago Zoo. A llama stood next to them, grinning as though mugging for the camera.