Uncover

Three

Between 8:56 and 9:03 the door to Conrad's Diner opens approximately eleven thousand times, or so it seems. Each time a friendly little chime sounds through the small place and my muscles tense and my eyes dart irresistibly to the doorway.

It's never her. But then I realize that I'm not even certain who I'm on the lookout for. Will she come as herself, as Kirstin with the shoulder length black hair? Will she appear as the platinum blonde thief or the auburn spy goddess? Or something else entirely?

It occurs to me that she could be in a completely different disguise, and I take a moment to scan the other tables in the restaurant. I don't see any women that could be her and when I turn back toward the door suddenly she's right there in front of me, dropping delicately into the chair across from mine.

She's blonde again today, but not the long platinum waves I'd seen in Tahoe. This wig is more golden, the waves tighter but not quite curls, falling just below her chin. Her makeup is subtle today, and the dark eyes with their little flecks of gold and green appear to be unaltered by contact lenses.

She peels off her jacket to reveal a pale green top with little white flowers on it, which she's paired with dark, form fitting skinny jeans and flat sandals. She is nearly the direct opposite of the woman I'd met last night, the one that had kept me up with dreams and half-formed fantasies. And yet, this fresh and feminine version is no less stunning.

"Good morning," I say after way too much time has passed. She doesn't seem to mind me staring though.

"Hi."

"Should I call you Kirstin?"

She smiles. "Yes."

"Alright Kirstin. I'm here. You're here. What's next?"

She leans forward, elbows on the table, and she does that thing again where she just gently infringes upon my space. I don't know if someone taught her this trick or if she's just naturally bristling with sexual energy, but when she extends a hand in my direction, it's all I can do not to grab it and begin to devour her, starting at the fingertips.

"First things first," she says, tapping her fingernail against my coffee cup. "I need one of these for me."

I grin and try and downshift my brain, raising my hand to flag down a passing waitress. "A cup of coffee for the lady," I say. "And another menu."

Kirstin looks around at her side of the table, seeing no silverware or any indication that this table had been set for two. "Didn't think I would show?"

I meet her eyes directly. "I feel like predicting anything you do would be next to impossible."

The smile she gives then is loaded with pride. However I'd frustrated or embarrassed her up to this point, the idea that she'd come across as unpredictable seems to please her. She seems like she's about to say something, but we're interrupted by the return of the waitress with Kirstin's coffee.

She takes the cup in her small hands and inhales the fragrant, caffeinated steam. Then, without even opening the menu, she requests a large plate of French toast, bacon, and scrambled eggs.

I stare at her, realizing once again that she is utterly unpredictable. "I'll have what she's having," I say. "But make my eggs over-easy."

"You got it," the waitress says and bustles away.

"What's the matter?" Kirstin says when we're alone again.

"I've just don't think I've ever had breakfast with a girl who actually likes to eat real food," I tell her.

She giggles. "Let me guess: Beth was an egg white omelet type of person. Dry wheat toast and fruit plate."