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“Huh,” I said out loud.

“Were you expecting something else?” she asked.

“No. I guess not. It’s just unusual.”

“I own it. It was one of the only things my parents did right for me.” Ouch.

Our food arrived and she went quiet again. We’d been doing so well for a little while there.

Guess it was my turn. “My parents just picked my name out of one of those books. They went over so many options. I was almost Darcy, which might have been fun.”

James put her fork down and studied me for so long I felt myself blushing. Being under that kind of scrutiny was unnerving.

“You don’t look like a Darcy,” she announced.

“Why not?” Darcy was such a cute name. Plus, it made me think ofPride and Prejudice.

“It’s not right for you. Means ‘descendant of the dark-haired one.’ Clearly not for you.” She nodded at my hair.

Wow. The fact that she was able to tell me that without even looking it up was bizarre.

“And what does Delaney mean?” I asked, almost terrified to know the answer. What if it was something bad or gross?

James smiled slowly. “It means ‘dark challenger’ or ‘angel from heaven.’ Much more suited to you.”

My entire face heated up. Wow. I had no idea. Who knew hearing your name’s meaning was so intimate.

“How do you know that?”

James picked up a piece of bacon and crunched it. “I looked it up a while ago and remembered it. And I recently had a client who picked the name Darcy. I don’t just have an encyclopedia of name meanings in my brain all the time. It would make things easier if I did.”

Still, it was impressive she’d managed to pull those two out.

“How did you even get a job like that?” Hopefully my blush had faded.

James methodically cut her eggs into small pieces. “I got an English degree and worked in publishing for a few years, but it wasn’t stable enough or consistent enough. I was tired of relying on other people and wanted to build something on my own. That way, if I failed, it was on me and not because of the whim of someone else. And I guess I wanted to see if I could. I got served a random video online with another woman talking about doing it and I knew it was the perfect thing to do with my English degree and research skills. I had to basically make things up as I went along, but I’ve been doing it for almost two years now and I am constantly turning potential clients away.”

That was truly wild. A job I had never heard of and she was drowning in clients.

“Damn, I am in the wrong line of work,” I said.

There was that almost smile again. “It’s a lot of work and there are really hard days too. But it’s rewarding. I also offer to help trans and nonbinary people pick names as well, but that’s just for fun.”

Wow. Now that she was talking about her job, she seemed much more relaxed and open, her eyes clear and bright. Loving your job was something I was very familiar with.

“I know what you mean. I love being a bookseller. On the good days, I’d do it for free if I could. On the hard days, I tell myself that I don’t get paid enough.”

Then something happened that I never expected. We both started laughing at the same time.

If you’d told me a week ago I would be sitting across from James St. Clair having brunch and swapping work stories, I would have said you must be thinking about a different Delaney with a different James because it definitely wasn’t me with this woman.

Eventually we lapsed into silence while we each demolished our plates of food. I kept having to tell myself to slow down so I didn’t choke because damn, those were good waffles.

Our server came to ask if we wanted anything else and James asked for the check.

“I’ve got this one,” she said.

“You already bought the croissants,” I pointed out. It wasn’t that I wanted to pay, but it rankled that this was the second time I’d gotten food with her and she was paying again.