43. Edgar

43

EDGAR

" H ere you go, Edgar." The barista leaned toward him as she handed him a tray with four lattes. "Do you need sweeteners?"

"I can get them myself."

Amy had been flirting with him since the moment she'd spotted him standing in line, and the preferential treatment she was giving him was embarrassing. He was surprised that the other customers were not complaining.

Normally, he wouldn't have minded the attention, and he probably would have taken her phone number and called her later, but not today.

Amy was pretty, and Edgar liked assertive women, but he didn't like how strongly she was coming on to him. He hadn't given her any indication that he was interested, and she should have backed off instead of continuing to push.

"Don't be silly," Amy cooed. "I'll get them for you. The scones should be all warmed up by now as well."

"Thank you."

He glanced in the direction of the table and noted that Angelica had arrived while he was busy thwarting Amy's advances. She was sitting with her back to him, so he couldn't see her face, but he noted with satisfaction that she was indeed blond as he had imagined.

Maybe he needed a break from brunettes.

Jasmine was gorgeous, but the thing they'd had going was over, and the princess was still in a coma, so nothing had started with her yet, and he was a free agent.

"Here you go, Ed." Amy handed him the paper bag with the warmed-up scones and dropped a bunch of sweeteners of all types in the middle of his tray with several stirrers. "Can I get you anything else?"

"Napkins would be nice."

"Sure thing." She grinned.

Turning around, she lifted a stack of napkins from a pile on the counter, pulled out a pen from her pocket, and wrote a number on the top one.

"I get off at eight. Call me." She put the small stack on top of the pile of sweeteners.

"Thank you." He forced a smile before turning around.

"Call me," she said loudly to his back.

He didn't answer.

The woman hadn't asked if he was single or even if he was interested in women. He had never been as pushy as she was, not even as a young and inexperienced male. He'd always waited for a signal that his advances were welcome before continuing.

Shaking his head, he walked over to the table. "Hello, ladies. Your lattes and scones are served." He put the tray and the bag down and then turned to look at Angelica.

Wow .

What a face .

"Angelica, I presume?" He finally found his voice and offered her his hand. "I'm Edgar."

"Hi." She put her hand in his. "You are the pilot, right?"

"That's me." He pulled out a chair and sat down.

Angelica looked at him, then at Jasmine, and then back at him. "Frankie told me that the two of you were an item."

"Not anymore," Jasmine said. "Edgar is a free agent."

"What happened?" Angelica asked.

He didn't know how to answer that and looked to Jasmine for help. It wasn't as if he could tell Frankie's cousin that Jasmine was nursing an alien prince to health and falling in love with him in the process.

"It just wasn't meant to be," Jasmine said. "Edgar is an amazing guy, and we had a lot of fun together, but we both realized that we weren't meant for each other."

Angelica looked into his eyes as if she could read the truth straight from the depths of his soul. "Is that so? Jasmine is stunning."

Not as stunning as you, Angel.

He nodded. "On the inside as well as on the outside, and we will always be friends. But we couldn't be everything to each other."

For a long moment, she just looked at him, and then her gaze shifted to the stack of napkins. She snatched the one on top. "Who gave you her phone number?"

"How do you know it was a she and not a he?" Edgar teased, pissed at himself for not getting rid of the napkin earlier.

Although, given that he had only two hands and both were carrying things, that would have been a little difficult.

Angelica chuckled. "It's a she. I can tell by the handwriting."

"You see?" Jasmine waved a hand. "You are in the wrong business. You should be a detective."

"No, thank you." Angelica handed him the napkin. "I prefer to immerse myself in beauty and tranquility."

Edgar made a production of tearing up the napkin into small pieces and stuffing it inside one of the bays on the cardboard tray. "What do you do?" he asked.

She eyed the pile of shredded paper, and a small smile tugged at her lips. "Nails." She offered him her hand again, this time so he could admire the work that had been done to her nails. "I didn't do these, my friend did, but that's what I do for a living."

He held her fingers in his and brought her hand closer to examine the decorations someone had painstakingly painted on each nail. "Beautiful." He lifted his eyes to Angelica's face. "But not nearly as beautiful as you are."

Angelica blushed as if to demur. "Thank you." She pulled her hand back, but her reaction was a definite yes, please continue .

"Ooh," Frankie cooed. "Should we leave the two of you alone?"

"Don't you dare," Angelica hissed.

As the conversation flowed easily, touching on everything from the latest fashion trends to stocks and bonds, Angelica proved to be sharp, witty, and in possession of a good sense of humor.

In short, she was a delight to be with, and Edgar was seriously smitten.