Fallon
Mia was already waiting when I walked into the café — impossible to miss, even in her half-baked attempt at anonymity. A wide-brimmed hat sat at a dramatic angle on her head, and her sunglasses were so oversized they covered half her face. She looked like a celebrity trying — and failing — to go incognito.
I stopped at the edge of the table, arms crossed. “Really subtle.”
Mia grinned, sliding her sunglasses down just enough to reveal her eyes. “You know me. I live for the drama.”
The waiter appeared almost immediately, and Mia waved him off with a casual, “We’ll need mimosas. Keep them coming.”
I laughed despite myself, slipping into the seat across from her. The tension from the weekend — from my family and the endless pressure — began to ease, bit by bit. Mia had that effect
