The sun hadn't yet burned away the morning mist when Nora Clarke stepped into Café, the quiet little spot tucked between the florist and the tailor shop downtown. She wasn't usually an early riser, and she certainly wasn't usually compelled to meet someone she barely knew for what she assumed would be a casual coffee.
But the email had piqued her curiosity:
"Nora, coffee sometime this week? I'd like to see you again. Conrad"
Nora had frowned at the screen. "Again?" she muttered, setting down her laptop. Again, it implied some previous interaction. Of course, she knew Rosaline had attended the gala in her place, and Conrad had interacted with someone he believed was her. But she assumed it had been inconsequential small talk, polite smiles, and nothing more.
She'd agreed mostly out of curiosity and maybe a twinge of concern over how personal Conrad's tone had sounded.
The café door chimed softly as she pushed it open. A few tables were already occupied, but she spotted him immediately. Conrad Reid tall, impeccably dressed, and effortlessly commanding. He hadn't seen her yet, or he was taking his time, measuring the space between the door and her table as if rehearsing his steps.
Nora's pulse ticked a little faster than it should have. She stood, smoothing her dress.
"Mr. Reid," she said, keeping her voice neutral as he approached.
"Conrad," he corrected with a small smile, extending a hand that she shook politely. Then, surprisingly, he gestured to the chair across from her. "Please, sit."
Nora hesitated a fraction before taking her seat. His presence was warm, easy, like he'd known her far longer than he actually had. Or like he thought he had.
"So," she said lightly, "coffee, huh? Not a business meeting, I hope."
His lips curved faintly. "No business. Just catching up, I suppose."
Nora arched an eyebrow, sensing the casualness in his tone carried more weight than she expected. "Catching up?" she echoed. "On what, exactly?"
He leaned back, studying her with the faintest trace of a smirk. "You tell me. I feel like we missed a few things the other night."
Her stomach tightened, curiosity warring with an uneasy sense of dread. The other night. That phrasing carried intimacy she hadn't expected. "The other night?" she asked slowly, measuring each word.
"Yes," he said, eyes gleaming with an intensity that made her pulse quicken. "At the gala. We talked. Walked. Shared a few laughs."
Nora blinked. Her lips curved in a polite, controlled smile. "Ah. That gala. Yes, well, I'm glad you had someone to chat with. I wasn't there myself, as you know."
He raised a brow, not missing a beat. "Really? That's not how I remember it."
Her stomach lurched. Conrad believed she was the woman from the gala, her presence, her reactions, the way he spoke to her, all predicated on a night Nora hadn't actually lived. She forced her expression into calm amusement.
"Well, memory is a funny thing," she said smoothly, keeping her tone light. "Perhaps I've simply forgotten how charming you can be."
Conrad chuckled, a low sound that vibrated against her nerves. "Charming, huh? I'll take that as a compliment."
The conversation turned casual after that surface-level talk about art exhibits, charity events, and the city's changing skyline. Nora felt the pull of his presence, the way he filled the space beside her with ease. He laughed at the right moments, nodded at the right words, and tilted his head in exactly the way someone who remembered intimate details, real or imagined, might do.
She found herself sipping her coffee more slowly than usual, trying to keep her thoughts from wandering. Conrad's gaze lingered a little too long now and then, a faint warmth in his brown eyes that unsettled her. It wasn't romantic, at least not exactly, but it carried the familiarity of a man who believed he had shared something with her.
"Do you often drink coffee alone?" he asked casually, though his eyes didn't leave hers.
"Not usually," she said, and then, after a pause, added lightly, "But I suppose there's a first time for everything."
He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. "I'd like to think that makes this meeting memorable."
Nora felt the flush rising to her cheeks. She shook it off, determined to maintain composure. "Memorable, yes, I think we can manage that."
There was a brief silence, the kind that makes every sound feel amplified. A spoon tapping a cup. Rain sliding down the window. Her heartbeat.
He smiled faintly. "You're even more controlled than I expected."
She tilted her head. "Controlled?"
"Measured," he said. "Careful. Not one gesture wasted. Not one word too many. I like it. It'sfascinating."
Nora blinked, caught off guard by his intensity. It wasn't flirtation, exactly; it was observation. Assessment. He thought he knew her, and every reaction she had seemed to confirm it in his mind.
"I guess people have to be careful sometimes," she said lightly. "Life tends to reward the careful."
He leaned back, nodding, though the glint in his eyes suggested he didn't fully agree. "Perhaps. Or maybe it just makes it easier to hide what's real."
Nora's fingers curled around her cup. Hide what's real. The phrase pricked at her, and she felt a flicker of unease. She was beginning to see just how much Conrad believed he was speaking to someone else entirely and how different his perception of that night was from reality.
"So," he began, standing as if to leave, "we'll have to continue this soon. I feel like there's more we left unsaid."
"Yes," she said carefully, standing as well. "There's always more, isn't there?"
He smiled faintly. "Indeed."
As he walked out, Conrad paused at the door, glancing over his shoulder. "I'm glad you came, Nora. Really."
Nora forced a small, voice-controlled smile. "I'm glad too."
And then he was gone, the soft chime of the café door echoing in the sudden quiet.
Nora sank back into her chair, coffee forgotten, mind racing. She pulled her phone from her bag and stared at it. Four unread messages from Rosaline glowed on the screen, each one urgent.
Rosaline: Did he contact you?
Rosaline: Be careful. Don't say anything.
Rosaline: He thinks, Never mind. I'll explain tonight.
Nora's pulse tightened. Her sister had warned her, yet she already knew, even without details, that Rosaline had stepped too far into something she shouldn't have.
And as rain streaked down the window in restless lines, Nora realized this simple, casual coffee had opened a door to something far more complicated than she had expected.
Somewhere, between curiosity and suspicion, she whispered to herself: "Rosaline, what did you do?"