EQUINOX
The napkin read, simply: I feel it too. Meet me at The Gorgeous Dog at midnight ... Please? —Equinox
She tucked it into the pocket of her apron, glancing around the diner. No one had noticed—not even nosy Claire. She glanced at the clock: It was half past ten. More than enough time to avoid any appearance of impropriety.
“Did your lumbersexual leave a good tip?” asked Sally as she breezed past holding a pair of serving trays.
After returning from the table she added: “That was quite the fireworks display.”
Sarah busied herself with wiping the counter, pretending not to hear. And nosy Sally, she thought—although the young hostess had a point. It would have been hard to miss the instant attraction between her and the stranger.
She thought of the man’s large hands and arms (the
