23

I leaned back on the cool leather seat close to the glass wall, watching Mr. Sturm as he ordered cappuccinos at the metal counter. The blonde bartender taking his order was flushed, fluttering her lashes at him balefully as she jotted his words down. I placed a hand on my chest, directly where it was tight, and jealousy made smoke puff out my ears.

Back off my man.

This restaurant was located in a bay area I’d never been to before, and judging by the way Mr. Sturm and I were ignored and treated like completely normal people, I realized that he wasn’t popular here. No one knew about the chronic womanizer who always made the headlines with his sexcapades. No one cared about his money or reputation. He was just another one of the regulars who trooped by for coffee, along with a friend – me.

I looked up now as he made his way over, setting a paper cup filled with steaming coffee in front of me. I thanked him as he settled back down on his seat, lifting the cup to my lips.

“How do you like