Page 51 of Hello Stranger

I nodded, like,Yep. “Top ten out of two thousand entries.”

“That means you beat out one thousand nine hundred and ninety other people.”

Told ya he was perfect. “That’s exactly what my best friend said.”

“Nice,” he said, and I could feel him admiring me.

“But now I have to win,” I said. “So I just can’t have any distractions right now.”

Dr. Addison nodded like that made perfect, logical sense.

I thought I was in the clear.

But then he said, “Of course if we just happened to run into each other at the same time in a coffee shop, that wouldn’t be a date. That would just be both of us self-caffeinating in close proximity.”

Ah. He wasn’t going to make this easy.

When I hesitated, he added, “Only if you want to, of course.”

Was it a test? To gauge if I wanted to?

I wasn’t waiting to find out. “I want to,” I said.

I could feel a smile take over his face.

So I added, “You have to caffeinate, right?”

And there it was. If I had to go on a coffee date with the world’s dreamiest veterinarian, then I guess I just had to.

ONCE I’D GIVENin, I planned our wedding the whole way home.

We had an appointment for simultaneous coffee now. And, somehow, not calling it a date made it feel even more like a date. Did that mean we were dating?

Pretty damn close! Right?

And, of course, once you started dating someone, you inevitably got married.

So we were essentially engaged.

Where to have the wedding? Maybe on the coastal rocks of Maine, near a lighthouse? Or on the gentle sand of a Hawaiian beach? Or—hell, as long as I was fantasizing—in some quaint, timeless English village? I’d have to google timeless English villages. Maybe the Cotswolds?

This was perfect, right? This was perfect.

I’d get this face thing solved, get Peanut healthy, win this competition, disprove everybody who ever thought I was worthless—and then go on a datewith Dr. Oliver Frigging Addison. And start living the victorious life I’d always wanted.

That worked.

I was feeling so foolishly optimistic for a minute there as I basked in that fantasy that I decided to stop by Bean Street Coffee to grab a decaf latte on my way to the elevators. Life was good today. Good enough for a celebratory latte.

Hazel One was working there tonight. This was how hip Bean Street Coffee was: it had two different baristas named Hazel.

I ordered my latte and then waited by the pickup counter, as fully afloat as if these wedding fantasies were an emotional inner tube.

But that’s when I heard, “Sadie Montgomery?”

This—being recognized—had happened a few times since I’d been tricked by my evil stepsister, and I’d say, all in all, I managed okay. The big goal was always to suss out who was talking to me, but I was also happy to settle for just having a pleasant interaction and not getting caught.

“Hey there!” I answered, more confident with my strategy now.There are no strangers.“How are you?”

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