The Fling

14

It was a beautiful Wednesday in Southern California. The sky was blue, the sun was shining, and the temperature was a delightful 72°. As I walked the three blocks from my Pilates studio to Erewhon, I made a mental note to stop by the nursery tomorrow for some rose bushes. The landscaping in the backyard needed some color, but Bert claimed roses were too much work. It was my house now, so I could do whatever the hell I wanted.

"Abigail," a voice called to me, pulling me from my gardening thoughts. I looked over to the dining area outside the trendy Pacific Palisades market and saw Shawn sitting at a table with two drinks, so I assumed he was there with a friend. He looked great, though I did a double-take when I saw his hair, which had been buzzed off.

"Hi," I said as I approached him. "I guess you were right when you said we'd run into each other."

He removed his sunglasses and set them down. "This isn't a coincidence. I had no other way of getting in touch with you, and I knew you'd be here."

Almost two weeks had passed since the trip to Palm Springs, and I thought of him frequently. It was difficult not to relive each of our encounters when I had time to myself. His bold move of showing up where he knew I'd be was flattering, but it was also confusing.

"I got you your favorite strawberry probiotic smoothie. Can you sit down so we can talk?" he asked.

I looked around. The nice day meant tons of people were out and about. "I don't think we should be seen together," I whispered.

"Sitting at a table isn't incriminating."

If just one person took a photo and shared it online, Lizzie might see it. That was a can of worms that I didn't want reopened. "My car is on the lower level of the parking garage. Meet me there," I told him before walking around the left side of the store.

I stood next to my VW Atlas and waited until he emerged from the stairwell, grateful that my windows were tinted enough that he couldn't see the two booster seats in the second row. He looked around, and once he spotted me, he took long strides in my direction. Like me, he was dressed in workout apparel, and I couldn't help but notice how well his snug black dri-fit shirt accentuated his muscles. "I'm really sorry if showing up like this is a problem," he said as he ran his right hand over his stubbly hair. I missed the curls, though he was still ridiculously handsome.

"It's fine, but you caught me off guard."

"I don't like how things ended, and I would have texted or called but-"

"-I never gave you my number." I twisted my ring finger, but when he saw me doing it, I stopped. "Nervous habit."

"I have several of my own, so I'm not judging. Do you want to sit in your car to talk? Or we could go to your place or mine." His cheeks turned pink right before my eyes. "I don't mean that the way it sounds."

Looking at my watch, I replied, "I can't do either. I have a meeting in forty-five minutes, and I've got to run home and shower first." My meeting was volunteering at my children's school. I helped Bertie's teacher with small-group reading lessons every week, and then I went to Hannah's class for recess duty.

"I'm an idiot for thinking you didn't have stuff to do. We never talked about you having a job, so I assumed you didn't work."

"I proofread textbooks. Not the most exciting career, but it fits my schedule perfectly."

He nodded. "That's cool. Can we meet another time?"

I dug around in my bag for my phone, angling it so he couldn't see the photo of the kids on my lock screen. "Tell you what...I'll take your number, and when I have a few minutes, I'll text you and then maybe we can talk."