Page 39 of Sew Matcha in Love
I pulled open the door and paused, surprised to see Arwyn chatting with a man in scrubs on the stool next to her. The woman behind the counter—who I assumed was Arwyn’s friendShanna—was chatting up my girls but kept looking over at Arwyn and the guy.
Did she know him? Were they friends? Was he a serial killer? Unlikely in scrubs, but you could never really know, right?
All important questions I would need the answer to ASAP.
For my girls, of course.
I couldn’t have their nanny associating with serial killers.
I plastered a grin on my face and sauntered in like the famous professional athlete I was.
The man was the first to see me. He sat up straighter, and his eyes went wide.
Ah, a fan.
This was going to be fun.
I walked up to my girls first and kissed each of them on the tops of their heads. “How are my favorite girls? Enjoying your sodas?”
“I got Peach of My Heart, Daddy!” Isla held it up. “Try it.”
I took a sip. “Peachy.” I turned to Amelie, whose straw was poised for me to try next. “And what’s this?”
“Lime of My Life!”
“Mmm, that’s citr-errific!” I looked up at Shanna. “Thanks for making my girls awesome drinks and for being a great friend to Arwyn. She says great things about you.”
“She’s my favorite,” Shanna said. “Sure you don’t want an ice cream soda?” She pointed to my drink.
“Want? Yes. But my chef would go on strike if he found out I had all that sugar in one sitting.” I turned back to the girls. “Your turn. Sip my Matcha Madness?”
“Ew, Daddy,” Isla said. “You know we don’t like that.”
“But it matches your sister’s dress,” I protested.
“So does my Lime of My Life,” Amelie retorted.
I sighed dramatically. “Fine. What’s Wynnie drinking?” I whispered. “And who’s that guy?”
Amelie set her drink down and cupped her hands over my ears. “Straw-Berry Dreamy. We tried that one last time. It’s good. That’s Adler. He asked if Wynnie wasseeinganyone. What does that mean?”
I shrugged and turned to get a better look at the guy. In the scrubs, he could be anything from a transportation guy to a doctor.
“How ’bout I go find out?”
They both nodded profusely.
“And report back, Daddy!” Isla shout-whispered.
I straightened up and smoothed out my tie as I walked around Arwyn and offered my hand to the guy. “Zaki Marsch. And you are?”
He smiled easily. “Adler Lansing. You’re really Zaki Marsch?”
“That’s what my work visa says. You’re a friend of Arwyn’s?”
“Working on it.” He grinned and glanced at her. Her lips were pressed tightly together, and she was avoiding eye contact with the both of us. “Shanna’s husband is my best friend. Arwyn and I were in their wedding several years ago. We’re catching up.”
I stole a glance at Arwyn, who looked like she’d rather man the goal at a puck shooting contest—sans equipment.
