Page 8 of No Headlines Please

But of course he did – probably in one of the penthouses from the looks of him.

Did he know my sister?

Had they ever dated?

Everybody loved Tessa – guys in particular.

This guy looked incredibly successful, which meant he was exactly Tessa's type. Reluctantly, I asked, "By any chance, do you know Tessa?"

He didn't even blink. "And Tessa is…?"

"My sister."

"Never met her."

I found this hard to believe. Tessa was the kind of girl a guy would definitely notice. "But she lives in this building."

"That doesn't mean I've met her."

"Oh." I glanced toward the elevators. "Yeah…I guess that makes sense."

Undaunted, he said, "So, forty minutes?"

Before I knew it, I had already nodded.

I couldn't even regret it. Today had been a total crap-fest. So was it any wonder I'd grasp at something just the opposite?

And besides, it was only dinner. What's the worst that could happen?

It wasn't until I was already heading up inside the elevator that I realized something odd.

I didn't even know the guy's name.

I hadn't asked.

He hadn't offered.

Stranger still, he hadn't asked for mine.

What was that about?

3

No Darkened Dives

Maddox

I hadn't planned to ask her to dinner.

Coffee would've been enough. Simple. Disposable. A way to extend the conversation just long enough to fill in the blanks.

Delaney Sinclair.

That was her name. I'd spotted it on the suitcase, written in bright blue ink on a neon yellow tag. The suitcase was battered. Her clothes were dirty. And she was hungry – like she hadn't eaten all day.

It wasn't only the sound of her stomach that told me so. It was the look in her eyes when I'd mentioned dinner.

Still, she'd tried to deflect. Minimize. Reframe.