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“Anytime.”

I slid him a five for his trouble, high roller that I was.

What an eventful fifteen minutes that had been. Once alone, I gave my head a slow shake and grinned my way back inside the room to retrieve my bag and see a man about some pasta.

Chapter Three

That Night

If noodles could be friends, these homemade pappardelle and I would be galivanting on girls’ trips for life. The thick savory flat noodles and short rib lived up to every review I’d read about When in Rome. The restaurant had quite the fan base on Yelp. As I slid another savory bite into my mouth, it occurred to me that I should take a lap and visit all the noteworthy restaurants in Dreamer’s Bay so I could provide updated reviews for my future guests.

“How’s the food?” the bartender asked. He was one of those people who sounded entirely interested without looking that way in the slightest.

“I don’t know my name anymore,” I told him. I offered a chef’s kiss and closed my eyes lost in flavorful bliss. God, I loved food. Working in a grocery store all day had certainly confirmed my affection.

He grinned and placed his palms flat on the bar in front of me. I had a feeling he was a fellow foodie himself. “Now we’re talking. What else can I get you?” My martini was on its way out. “Maybe another one of these in five minutes?”

“I’m buying that one,” a smooth voice said from down the bar. It gave me goose bumps. Who in the world?

I turned to see none other than my supremely hot hotel neighbor taking a seat down the bar along with another woman. She wiggled four fingers at me in hello. It wasn’t an organically sexy move, but she made it one.

“Hi,” I said, absorbing being in her presence again. The Fates were working in my favor. While this was a second opportunity to getto know her better, I was very aware of the fact that she seemed to have a date at her side. That was okay. I shouldered the disappointment and pressed on. “So you don’t just exist between the walls of the hotel.”

“Did you think I was the hotel fairy? I get that a lot.” She turned to her date. “Jocelyn, this woman was recently swallowed by a door.”

“It’s true.” I tossed in a grimace. “But I was luckily saved by…” I didn’t have a name.

“Kyle,” my new friend supplied. I tried it on. She wasKyle. I liked it.

Jocelyn leaned over. “Her full name is Alexandra Kyle Remington. Kind of unforgettable, am I right? I don’t think we should leave the rest out.”

Kyle smiled. “It’s true. I have a superhero’s name. But please, just call me Kyle, and don’t mind my cape.”

“It’s a very nice name. Kyle Remington.”

“Thank you.”

“We don’t have enough epic ones.”

Her friend knocked Kyle in the arm with the back of her hand. “See? Our new friend gets it.”

There was a noticeable familiarity between them. If they were a couple, they were a striking one, seizing on the yin and yang dynamic nicely. The other woman had shiny blond hair that contrasted with Kyle’s dark brown like something out of a clichéd sapphic romance novel. I’d buy that book. Hell, Ihaddozens of times. So, it seemed Kyle was, in fact, interested in women, which was a huge score for women everywhere, but was likely already dating this one.

“And your name?” Kyle asked. Her lips pulled into a perfect smile. They were full and hard to look away from. Did she use liner? Hard to tell. No one had the right to have lips like Kyle’s. Damn her, but alsothank you. “I can’t believe we went this far without learning each other’s.”

“I’m Savanna Potter. Also known as She Who Gets Stuck in Doors. Nice to meet you officially.”

Kyle laughed, which maybe meant she appreciated my silly sense of humor. She had one, too, but it was dryer and more sophisticated. That made sense because so was she. I was taking notes for fun. “Nice to meet you, too. This is Jocelyn, by the way. We work together.”

Colleagues, too. I wondered about their story. “And what do you both do?” I was being nosy, but my second dirty martini had arrived,and that meant I was way more comfortable running my mouth. Two Drink Savanna was in the building.

“We’re doctors,” Jocelyn said, and I about fell off my stool. This was a soap opera. I’d walked into an actual TV show and was one of the awestruck day players.

Of course Kyle was a doctor. She was living proof that they could be every bit as hot as the medical dramas I binged on weekends with Jonathan. I needed to text him ASAP. It also only upped Kyle’s qualifications for the role of Savanna’s Personal Dream Woman. Had Kyle been crafted from the literal list of desirable traits in my head, like a torn-up piece of paper, reassembled for this very moment? God was an eavesdropper, stealing details and producing them. But why was he or she taunting me with women off the table? And was Kyle for sure in that category?

“That’s impressive,” I said as serenely as possible. No big deal, just gorgeous gay doctors down the bar a bit. “Do you practice here in Charleston?”

“Yes,” Kyle said. “I’ve been here just over two years.”