15
“What’s your name?”
He had to repeat himself, because at first Elisabeth didn't answer. She sat in her seat next to the window, frozen with indecision.
“Elisabeth. Elisabeth Burnham.”
“Nice to meet you, Elisabeth Burnham.”
She wasn't used to being addressed by cute guys in leather jackets, but there was no one else in the shop, there was a nor'easter starting up outside, and he had just poured her a second steaming cup of something hot and black. It smelled fantastic. Ms. Tattoo must have done up a fresh pot just a little while ago.
She could just leave, she supposed. And avoid the temptation to get friendly with this kid.
She got up slowly.
“Actually, let me bring it to you. Don't leave. Really, it's okay. I watch the place for Gina all the time. In fact, let's eat all the cook
