of the night took the stage and the lights dimmed just slightly. A hush fell over the crowd in the room, but there was still quiet chatter here and there, which was why I didn’t feel guilty about my lack of attention.
Jack’s eyes were on the stage, but they turned to me and I repeated my words.
“Just talk to me.”
He sighed. “What do you want to talk about?”
I shrugged, glad he didn’t put up much of a fight. “Anything. Everything. Whatever you want.”
A line etched between his brows as he studied me for a quick moment. “How many cups of coffee did you sell today? You didn’t text.”
I smiled, my heart settling down a bit more. As much as he insisted he wasn’t good at small talk, I always enjoyed his company. He had his own way of doing things. He rarely lost the frown, for one thing, but in my eyes, it only made him look more attractive. He could frown at me an entire night and I still wouldn’t mind it. I relaxed in my seat, finally starting to thaw out.
“One hundred eighty-six.”
“That’s a few more than yesterday, isn’t it?”
I nodded.
“Are you happy then?” he asked.
I gave him a bigger smile. “I am. It’s going to be cinnamon week next week and I’m very excited about that. Do you have a special request? I might be able to make it happen.”
His gaze moved away from mine for a brief moment when the entire room erupted in laughter and then applause. I noticed an army of waiters swarming around the tables, two of them rounding ours with plates in their hands. Jack let go of my hand and leaned back so the waiter could do his job. The loss of his touch settled over me, and I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to feel about that. They took our drink orders: white wine for me and whiskey on the rocks for Jack.
As soon as they left us alone with our weirdly colored risottos and went to get the drink orders, I leaned back in.
“Any specific cinnamon orders?”
I would’ve preferred him grabbing my hand again, but instead he casually slung his arm across the back of my chair and turned his body toward me.
“Anything you make yourself, save some for me.”
“I make this braided cinnamon thing. It’s a Swedish recipe and I love it. I can do that if you want.”
“I’d like that,” he said simply, and we had to pull away a little when our drinks arrived. I wasn’t a fan of alcohol and rarely drank, but it felt like it would be a necessity on this night.
I took a sip of my wine, and he took a sip of his whiskey.
“Do you know a lot of people here?” I asked, pushing my glass away.
He looked over his shoulder and his features hardened. Curious, I followed his gaze and saw Joshua staring again, even though Jodi was sitting right next to him. His arm was around her chair, almost exactly like Jack’s had been on mine. I tore my eyes away and put my palm on Jack’s stubbled cheek again. Applying a little pressure, I turned his head back to me.
“Jack, do you know a lot of people here?” I repeated as he drained the rest of his whiskey in one go. “It’s just gonna be the two of us tonight, okay? We’re not gonna focus on anyone else. We need to look like a happily married couple so it’s just gonna be the two of us.” It felt as if I repeated enough times maybe I’d believe it myself as well.
“A few. I know a few people,” he responded finally, his voice rough from the alcohol.
When the waiter was close enough, he ordered another one. I took a small sip of my own wine and tried a small bite of the risotto. It wasn’t the worst thing I could’ve been eating. I glanced at the people sitting across from us and noticed none of them were interested in what was happening on the stage either.
When I noticed something drip from my nose onto the tablecloth, my whole face heated, and I quickly reached for the napkin, cursing myself for not having a small handbag I could’ve stashed a few things in. Mortified, I hoped Jack—or anyone else, for that matter—hadn’t seen my runny nose. Trying to be discreet about it, I dabbed the napkin on my upper lip and slightly on my nose. I could already feel