“Oh, yeah,” Ray continued with a sly grin. “Watch out for this one, miss.

Town's most eligible bachelor.”

Peter shook his head. “Ray now's not—”

“I'm just teasin', miss,” Ray interrupted with a wink at Kate. He set the waters down, then went to retrieve some menus from behind the counter as she

slid into the opposite side of the booth.

Peter wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. It was one thing for Ray to tease,

but he hadn't seen Katie— Kate—since high school graduation. And that was from a distance. After the debacle at the Scholarship Fair, it had been

perfunctory hellos and hi's in the hallway, but that had been it. It was like she'd gone into some kind of shell. And then, not more than a few weeks after graduation, she was gone.

And he hadn't seen her since.

“So, how long have you lived in Chicago?” he asked, already knowing the

answer but hoping to break the ice.

“About eight years.” Kate took a sip from her water. “Five at the company

I'm with now. We do marketing and branding for corporations. I used to do mostly graphic design, but I've been running a few bigger campaigns the last few

years.”

He already knew that, too. Every year or so—or was it more?—he'd be in his

office, reeling from another mind-numbing round of budget requests or a

particularly bad parent-teacher conference, and he'd google her, find her on her

company website directory. All professional and sparkly and clean, confident smile set on her face. Kate Brady, along with the dozen or so young, good-looking grinning guys next to her on the directory page, their hipster glasses almost shouting how cool they were.

She wasn't married. He knew that, too. Small-town gossip reached deep and

far, even when you'd been gone a dozen years.

Ray arrived with two well-worn plastic menus. “Here you go, folks. Just give me a wave when you're ready.”

Peter passed one of the menus to Kate. He noticed her expensive running watch. Her stylish sweater, leggings, and riding boots made her look like she belonged in a downtown Chicago Starbucks instead of an Iowa diner. “Sounds like you're doing well.”

She shrugged. “Well enough, I guess.” Now she was studying the ice in her

glass as she stirred it.

Don't let it get awkward, don't let it get awkward…

“Do you enjoy your job?”

“I do. And you?”

“Yes.” Didn't he? “It's the new high school, now. Out on the edge of town.

Where the old drive-in used to be?”

She nodded. “Oh, yeah. Where all the cool kids used to hang out? I

remember. Last time I was there was probably grade school.”

He nodded. “Me, too. We probably spent more time there jumping our bikes

over the humps between the rows than watching movies.” He paused. How much

did she want to remember? “I still remember watching Independence Day there on the hood of your mom's Buick.”

Kate wrinkled her nose. “Was that the one where the creepy alien tentacle

thing squishes the guy against the window and makes him talk?”

“Oh, sorry. Yeah, I forgot how much you hated that scene.” That was when

she'd grabbed his arm, and he'd suddenly felt all grown-up, like a man. A girl grabbed my arm for protection! The thought made his stomach twirl a little, even now.

“Well, it has been a long time.” She suddenly sat up straight. “I won't be in

town long. I'm here to bid on a branding makeover for Nitrovex. You know, brochures, marketing materials, logo updates, website makeover, the whole deal.

I have a meeting out at the headquarters tomorrow.”

Today and tomorrow? That was all? “Wow, that's awesome, Kate.

Hometown girl made good.”

She smiled, but it was more of a grimace. “Something like that, I guess.” She

went back to studying her menu. “Wow, has this menu changed at all?”

“Doubt it.”

“I still remember this line art drawing of the pig in the chef's hat.” She pointed at the menu, smiling to herself. “I called him Porky.”

“Yeah, I'm not sure why he even brings them over anymore. I've pretty much

got the whole thing memorized.”

She closed her menu. “To be honest, I'm not really hungry. How about I just