“It suits you.”
She looked down at the menu.
She was pleased.
That frightened her enough that she almost became angry.
Then she remembered she did not have to solve every feeling immediately.
They talked.
Not about Aaron.
Not at first.
About her work.
A customer who brought in trousers he insisted had shrunk while the shop was closed.
A little girl who refused to let anyone remove a butterfly patch from a school cardigan.
Lorenzo told her about learning how little he understood the ordinary administration of his own restaurants.
“You never knew?”
“I knew people said yes when I asked questions.”
“That isn’t the same.”
“No.”
He took a sip of water.
“I’ve had a great deal of practice discovering that.”
She smiled.
Halfway through lunch, she put down her fork.
“There’s something I need to say.”
He waited.
“I’m not ready to belong to anyone.”
Lorenzo’s expression grew serious.
“All right.”
“I don’t mean—”
“You don’t have to explain it better.”
She looked at him.
He continued carefully.
“I’d like to know you. That doesn’t give me a claim.”
For a few seconds, she heard only the restaurant around them.
Plates.
Conversation.
Someone laughing near the window.
Then she nodded.
“I’d like that too.”
It was not a promise to fall in love.
It was lunch.
For Chloe, that was large enough.
When they left, rain had begun to fall.
Lorenzo opened his umbrella.
Then looked at her.
“Would you like to share?”
Chloe glanced toward the bus stop.
She had her own umbrella in her bag.
He could see the handle.
He waited anyway.
She stepped beneath his.
“Just to the corner.”
“Just to the corner.”
