“I never turn down cake,” Riley said with a wink. “Thanks, Sam.”
“You’re welcome. Enjoy.” Sam’s eyes lingered on me for a moment before he turned and walked back to the counter.
“So… did you want a piece? Do you even eat cake?”
I smiled, dragging my attention away from Sam. “Sometimes. It provides little energy, and we can only process a limited amount of solid food at a time, but I’m willing to taste anything.” I grabbed a spoon and scooped up a small piece. “The rest is all yours.”
“Don’t mind if I do. Though, I’d best save some for Dad.”
Apple and cinnamon burst across my tongue—sweet, tangy, and spicy—a tiny spark of joy that faded when I swallowed.
“And?” Riley asked, fork hovering in front of her mouth, crumbs sticking to her lips.
“It’s good.”
“So good,” Riley echoed.
She ate half the cake while I sipped my espresso, savoring the scent. The cake was good, but this was… this was perfect. I glanced at Sam to find him looking at me, a soft smile curling his lips. Unable to tear my gaze away, I smiled back. For a moment, we seemed frozen in time.
And then Riley asked, “Have you thought about a personal project?”
Sam turned away, and the moment was gone.
It took me a moment to gather my thoughts. “I’ve been thinking about those phones.” The heavy black ones with the rotary dials—featured in every renovated room—some more ornate than others.
“Oh, the Bakelite ones? So tempting to pick up the handset, even if they’re meant as decoration. I told Rick there were bound to be guests who’d ring us because their phone didn’t work.”
Her smile resembled Rick’s when he showed them to me and turned the rotary dial. “Yes. Humans seem to like them.”
“Nostalgia always does well. I like it.” Riley gulped down her flat white.
I shuddered. It had to be tepid by now. Of course, thinking about coffee pushed my attention back to Sam. He wasn’t at the counter, and it seemed I wasn’t the only one who missed his presence; the coffee machines sounded duller in his absence.
Chapter Eight
SAM
sounds like a fairytale
It was a hot day, and the sun was out in full as I exited the café. I blinked against its brightness and made my way across the plaza toward the park to get my bike.
I stopped. There was someone sitting near the fountain. Adri. For once, he wasn’t wearing his hood. He sat on a bench facing the sun, with his back to the hotel, his pale platinum hair striking in this light. He had something in his lap that he glanced at every now and then. Maybe he was working.
I shook my head. In the middle of the day? He worked too much. Did Niren not sleep?
For a moment, I wondered if I should let him be. But I felt the urge to talk to him, toreallytalk to him, and not just stare at him like a lovesick puppy.
He was beautiful in the sunlight, and for a moment, I thought I saw something shift beneath his skin—shimmering lines glowing faint blue like something from a science fiction movie. I couldn’t move for a moment; he was so beautiful, so gorgeous. But I couldn’t help but feel that all he wanted—all our interactions had been about coffee. While Ihadseen him chat with Riley, it seemed they were always talking about work. So Iwasn’t sure if he was open to the person making his coffee approaching him when he was working. At least, I thought he was working; his fingers moved across a tablet.
Heat burned my neck, and I scolded myself for standing in the sun. But I couldn’t seem to force myself to leave. I had time; no one was expecting me for a while. The kids were with Evan, planning their summer vacation.
Not something I enjoyed thinking about, even if it had been my idea for him and Bethany to take the kids on long trips during the summer while I worked. I always missed the kids for the three weeks they were away. And then there were the camps. The kids loved them, but our homes felt so empty without them.
We tried vacationing together once, but while it worked for our canoe trips, three weeks in each other’s laps was just too much. We needed our space now and then.
Which is why I took them to my sister’s farm every spring break—often with Tammy. Rebecca and her husband lived in a warm, close-knit community some twenty miles outside Princedelphia. Last year, even the little ones helped finish our parents’ cottage, but so far, Dad couldn’t tear himself away from his volunteer work at the paddling club.
Lost in thought, I was still staring at Adri. I cleared my mind, took a breath, and approached him.
