Page 16

“There’s more staff that work weekends. I did have a couple other girls who worked mornings with me, but they returned to school, and the owner wouldn’t let me replace them.”

“Are you the manager?”

“Yeah, technically.”

His brows lowered as he tilted his head. “A few nights ago when you texted, you said you were getting home from work. Is Java Brew open that late?”

“No, I work evenings at Weggies, the small grocery store on Chestnut.”

“What do you do there?”

“Produce department manager. So if you ever need to know what fruits and veggies are in season, I’ve got the info.”

“You’re a manager at two places?” When I nodded, he returned my earlier question. “What do you do with your free time?”

I lowered my voice to mimic his. “Work. A lot of work.” I hid my smile behind my drink as his deep, smooth chuckle burrowed into my memory.

I really need to make him do that more.

“Where do you work?” I tried again.

“Amaric.”

The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it. “What do you do?”

“Sometimes when a business or company is about to go under, another company will buy them out, or take a majority control. They’ll make changes to hopefully turn things around.”

“Like, a hostile takeover kinda thing?”

“Rarely. Usually it doesn’t come to that because the businesses request my company’s help. But it does get ugly every once in a while.”

“‘My company’ in a general way, oryours?”

“Amaric is mine,” he said as if it were no big deal.

Wow, that’s not intimidating or anything.

I seriously should’ve utilized Google. The internet is for more than funny cats and two-day shipping, Dahlia.

“Dahlia,” he said, regaining my attention. “Please don’t make this into athing.”

“I’m not,” I lied.

Is it too late to tell him I’m actually a world-renowned brain surgeon?

With my luck, someone would start bleeding right here and I’d faint.

I’m woozy just thinking about it.

When the waiter arrived to drop off our food, Theo didn’t say anything more, but his lips pressed into a thin line. His fingers drummed lightly on the table as he looked out the window.

Inhaling deeply as the waiter walked away, he turned to me. “Dahlia—”

“So, you own your own company?” I kept my voice nonchalant. “That’s cool. Can you pass me those potatoes, please?”

Some of the tension left his face as he handed them to me.

“Thanks.” I scooped a small mountain of them onto my plate. “Do you have any siblings?”