Chapter Six
There was a third chair at the table. That was the first problem. Julian noticed it the moment he walked into the café, the familiar one we'd been going to for years, the one where the barista already knew my order and Julian always pretended not to remember his even though he ordered the same thing every single time. Our table only ever needed two chairs, angled just close enough that our knees sometimes bumped when one of us leaned in, accidental contact neither of us ever acknowledged.
Today, there were three.
"You invited someone else," Julian said slowly, staring at the chair like it might explain itself.
I looked up from my phone. "Relax. It's just coffee."
"That doesn't answer the question."
I smiled. "You'll survive."
He opened his mouth to say something else, then stopped when a woman appeared beside our table, already smiling, already confident, already acting like she'd figured out exactly where she belonged.
"Julian," she said brightly, touching his arm without hesitation. "You didn't tell me you were bringing company."
He blinked. "I didn't."
She laughed, completely unfazed, pulling out the third chair and sitting anyway. "Oh. Then this must be fate."
I raised an eyebrow. "That's ambitious for ten in the morning."
She turned to me immediately, eyes sharp but amused. "I'm Hannah."
"I know," I said. "You've been mentioned."
Julian groaned softly. "Of course I have."
"She spoke highly of you," I added, watching his reaction. "Repeatedly."
Hannah beamed. "I have good instincts."
Julian stared between us. "I feel ambushed."
"You are," Hannah said cheerfully. "But in a friendly way."
She flagged down the barista without asking, ordered without looking at the menu, and settled in like she'd always been part of the routine, leaning forward, elbows on the table, attention firmly on Julian.
"So," she said, "how long have these coffee things been happening?"
"They're not things," Julian said quickly.
"They're absolutely things," I said. "You just never acknowledge them."
"That's betrayal," he muttered.
Hannah laughed. "This is already entertaining."
The conversation drifted easily after that. Hannah told stories loudly, unapologetically, Julian added comments without thinking, and I chimed in when it felt natural. She was funny in a way that pulled attention toward her, confident enough to interrupt without apology, and Julian responded easily, smiling, relaxed, leaning in.
Every few minutes, he glanced at me, quick and unconscious, like he was checking that I was still there.
"So how did you two meet," Hannah asked, her gaze bouncing between us.
"We grew up together," I said.
"A long time," Julian added.
Hannah nodded slowly. "That explains a lot."
"Such as," Julian asked.
"Comfort," she replied. "People don't look that relaxed around each other unless they've already survived a few disasters together."
Julian laughed. "That's one way to put it."
At some point, he leaned closer to me and lowered his voice. "She's always like this."
"I can tell," I said. "She doesn't believe in easing into rooms."
"She believes in owning them."
Hannah leaned forward immediately. "Are we whispering?"
"No," Julian said. "We're reviewing your performance."
She grinned. "And?"
"Strong start," I said. "High energy."
"I'll take it."
When Hannah finally stepped away to take a call, Julian exhaled, rolling his shoulders slightly like he hadn't realized he was tense.
"You okay," I asked.
"She's… a lot."
"You're smiling."
He paused, then glanced down. "Yeah. I guess I am."
"She's fun," I said.
"She is," he agreed. "Just different."
"Different isn't bad."
"No," he said. "It's just… different."
Hannah came back moments later, already reclaiming her space. "I have plans for tonight."
Julian checked his watch. "You're very organized."
"I don't like wasting momentum," she said, then looked at him pointedly. "You're still coming."
He hesitated.
I noticed.
I didn't comment.
"Yeah," he said finally. "I'll come."
Hannah smiled, satisfied, and reached for his hand without asking. "Good."
When we stood to leave, she slipped her arm through his and tugged him toward the door like it was already decided. He went easily. I stayed where I was for a second longer than usual, then reached for my bag and followed.
Julian looked back once, caught my eye, and smiled.
I smiled back.
The third chair was still there when we left, empty now, pushed slightly away from the table. I had the strange feeling it wouldn't stay empty for long.