Page 63 of The Boyfriend Material Novellas

Maybe it always will.

* * *

One day as I’m helping Peyton plan the next season’s looks, a British man walks into the store. He’s older, in his fifties, and he’s charming as he buys a nightie for his wife.

“Thank you two lovely ladies so very much,” he says when he leaves.

I sigh. “I love British accents,” I admit to Peyton.

“You do?”

“I do. I met this guy once in Paris for a day. He was British, and ever since then, I swear I perk up when I hear an Englishman. Like I’m hoping it might be him.”

She smiles. “Maybe someday it will be.”

I shake my head. “That won’t happen.”

“You never know . . .” she says, letting her voice trail off. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know. I don’t even know his last name. I only know where he lives and his profession.”

“You could try googling him.”

I have tried. I’ve punched in every permutation of “Reid” and “London” and “design firm.” But I’ve found nothing. I wish I had one more detail. One more clue. Something else to add to the search string. Something that would lead me to him.

But there are none.

That night when I’m home alone, I open the book and read his inscription.

Someday when I run into you again, because I know I will, we’ll have more than one perfect afternoon. We’ll have endless time.

I trace the words.

Then I close the book and send a thank you to the universe that I had that moment.

That’s all it’ll ever be.

I look at the napkin drawing one more time, hoping I’ll find his name. His number. A secret message. But I’ve turned it over a thousand times, and it’s only a drawing.

And a memory of a moment, a small slice of time.

The most wonderful moment I’ve ever had.

One I miss terribly.

* * *

In the morning I wake up with a start, a tingling sensation in the back of my mind. Déjà vu. Like when you see an actor and can’t place him until you remember he was the third guy on the left in episode seventeen.

It’s there.

One more detail.

I was in Paris for a bike race with my team. We placed third.

Reid said that to me.

Will it be enough?

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