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Fine. Meet me at Caffe Vergnano 1882. Tomorrow night at 9 p.m.

Charli

There. There’s no way he’s making the trip at that time. It’s a ridiculous request, made for no reason other than to throw him off kilter. He’s going to come back with a normal suggestion—which I’ll decline—and then he’ll realize that he’s not going to win this, and he’ll⁠—

Deal. See you tomorrow, Charli.

Best,

Lucas

FIVE

LUCAS

I get to the café thirty minutes early.

It’s a coffee shop that sells desserts, so it should be weird that it’s still open at 9:00 p.m., but it’s New York City, so none of it’s weird. I order a double shot of espresso and take a seat at one of the small tables, then pull out my phone and start to work while I wait.

I have no idea if she’s going to show up. Considering the tone of our email exchange, both serious and teasing, it could go either way. Normally, I wouldn’t have been a part of the email exchange, but Charli’s email came through while I was the only one online, so I decided to jump in. Especially when I saw that she shut me down instantly.

Who is this girl who demolishes me in court and then rejects me in one sentence through email?

At 8:55 p.m., I start to glance at my watch every minute. Then I look around the café, even though I have no idea what Charli looks like.

I tried to look her up, of course. I was too intrigued not to. But I couldn’t find anything about her. Which just intrigued me more.

9:00 p.m. comes and goes. Then 9:05 p.m. Then 9:15 p.m.

She might be late, or she might be playing me. I don’t know which option would be more disappointing.

But then I notice something. There’s a girl who’s been sitting along the wall by the front entrance for a little bit, and she keeps glancing my way. And every time she does, her frown deepens.

I try to catalogue as much of her as I can without being too obvious about it. I can tell she’s wearing all black: black jeans, black boots, black jacket. Her hair is dark and straight, with bangs she keeps having to blow out of her face. She looks young.

On the other hand, she also looks like she could kick my ass.

Casually sipping my now-cold drink, I think back to what I know about Charli. I didn’t get much from my search or her agency, but I did get some things.

She’s their newest private investigator. Great at research, specifically with digital investigations. Doesn’t usually meet with clients, as she prefers to simply receive the request, then provide her research.

Simple. Straightforward. Smart.

Which means I’m 95% certain this is my girl.

It only takes me a minute to consider my options. She’s clearly testing me. She probably didn’t expect me to show up. But the question now is whether she’s going to approach me.

I decide there’s too big a chance the answer is no. So after another moment of contemplation, I let out an exaggerated sigh, stand and button the top button of my suit jacket, and make my way toward the exit, never letting my gaze drift over to her.

It isn’t until I’m almost at the door that I step to the left and stop in front of her table.

“Just out of curiosity, how long were you going to make me wait?”

Her cheeks flame red instantly, her eyes going wide at being caught.

She’s got to be a decade younger than me. But fuck is she pretty.

Her clothes—leather jacket and combat boots—give her clear don’t fuck with me vibes, but her face paints an entirely different picture. An innocent one. She’s wearing very little makeup, if any, and yet somehow her green eyes are the brightest I’ve ever seen. Her freckles are obvious with her blush, and her lips are pinkened when she nervously bites down on her lower lip. She’s adorable.