hands without meaning to.

“That’s why I noticed you,” she said.

For a second he did not know what to do with that.

He was used to being judged by those hands.

Grease under the nails, old scar by the thumb, knuckles nicked by years of slipping wrenches.

People saw them and decided things.

Usually small things.

Claire had seen them and moved closer.

The waiter returned, gentler now, like he had just realized something important.

Claire ordered another coffee for Marcus before he could object, then glanced at him.

“You mentioned Sophie,” she said.

“How old?”

“Eight.”

“Who’s with her?”

“Mrs.

Ramirez next door.

I told her I’d be back before ten.”

Claire nodded.

“Does Sophie like pie?”

Marcus gave her a confused look.

“What?”

“Pie.

Children usually have opinions.”

He almost smiled.

“Cherry.”

Claire looked to the waiter.

“One slice of cherry pie packed to go, please.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I know,” she said.

“That’s why I asked the waiter, not you.”

It should have felt like charity.

It didn’t.

It felt like someone had heard a detail and kept it.

Before he could answer, a woman in a navy blazer approached from the bar with a tablet tucked against her side.

She was composed in that efficient way assistants often were, the kind of person who made chaos look organized.

“Sorry,” she said quietly to Claire.

“I didn’t want to interrupt, but this concerns tomorrow.”

Claire took one look at her face and held out a hand.

The woman passed her a phone.

Marcus tried not to stare, but he caught the shift in Claire immediately.

Her expression did not break.

It cooled.

“Thank you, Nia,” Claire said.

Nia gave Marcus a polite nod and stepped back toward the bar.

Marcus lifted an eyebrow.

“Bad news?”

“Not for me,” Claire said.

He was still trying to decide whether to ask what that meant when heels clicked sharply across the floor.

Vanessa was back.

Not breathless.

Not apologetic.

Not embarrassed.

She had the careful smile of someone who had seen an opportunity and run toward it.

“Marcus,” she said, as if they were in the middle of a normal evening.

“I’m so sorry.

That call became a whole thing.”

Then she looked at Claire.

Her entire face changed.

“Oh,” she said.

“Claire.

Wow.

I didn’t realize you were here.”

Marcus felt it in his stomach immediately.

The false brightness.

The way Vanessa’s shoulders straightened.

The way her voice turned warm so fast it practically burned.

Claire did not stand.

“You know each other?” Marcus asked, though he already knew the answer from the way Vanessa had gone pale around the eyes.

Vanessa laughed softly.

“Well, I’m in marketing.

We’ve crossed paths.”

Claire set Nia’s phone on the table between them.

“She works in brand strategy,” she said to Marcus.

“Or did twenty minutes ago.”

Vanessa’s smile twitched.

“I’m sorry?”

Claire looked up at her.

“Would you like to sit down and explain why you called him a tired mechanic and your dinner a free meal?”

The blood drained out of Vanessa’s face.

Marcus felt heat rise in his own, but it wasn’t humiliation this time.

It was clarity.

Vanessa glanced around the room.

“I think there’s some misunderstanding.”

“There isn’t,” Claire said.

Nia stepped forward then, calm