Page 113 of Blossom

“A couple months ago. I had a business trip.”

“Oh? What do you do?”

“I’m a corporate attorney. I work for Black, Inc.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Tom.”

Black, Inc.? Where Ronan is doing business…and he’s familiar with New Orleans. Shit, does this guy know Ronan?

I take his outstretched hand. “Mary.”

At almost the same time, the barista yells, “Mary!”

That elicits a chuckle from Tom. “I guess I could’ve waited another second. Then I would’ve known your name without asking.”

I force a smile, rise, and go fetch my latte. I bring it back to the table, remove the lid, and take a sip, wiping the mustache from my mouth with a napkin.

“Well? Anything like café au lait?”

“It’s good. But no. Coffee with chicory was something else. I’ve never had anything like it.”

“It is good,” he agrees. “I’m sure some of the coffee houses here have it. Or you could order it online. I order mine straight from Café du Monde. They ship it.”

“Duly noted.” I take another sip of the latte. It is delicious. Simple, strong coffee with steamed milk. But the chicory is definitely missing.

Funny how I’ll never look at coffee the same way now.

Or a few other things.

“So what do you do, Mary?” Tom asks.

“I work at Treasure’s Chest. It’s a boutique shop that sells clubwear and lingerie.”

He tilts his head and smiles. “Oh, yeah. I’ve walked by it many times. Maybe one day I’ll come in and say hi.”

“Sure.”

But he won’t. Men never walk into a lingerie shop unless they know what else we sell there.

He checks his watch. “I’ve got to get to a meeting. It was nice meeting you.” He pulls out a card. “Give me a call anytime.”

“What for?”

“In case you’d like to go out.”

Perhaps it’s the submissive in me, but I never ask men out. “I’m afraid you’ll have to call me if you want to go out,” I say.

“Happy to do that. But I don’t have your number.”

I’m not sure why, but I pull my business card out of my purse, my hand grazing the talisman again. I don’t want to be rude. “This only has my work number, so you’ll have to call me there.”

“Thanks. You’ll hear from me. So nice to meet you, Mary.”

I watch him exit the coffeehouse.

And though he’s good-looking, and I’m pretty sure he will call me, I won’t be going out with him.

I don’t date.

I hadn’t wanted to date anyone in a long time.