Avery’s face cycled through a number of different emotions—distress, embarrassment, maybe even disappointment—before she finally pinned him with a horrified glare. “You’re not Ross?”
Dillon gave a what-can-you-do? shrug. “Guilty.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” she demanded.
“You didn’t ask,” he said. Wrong answer.
She shot to her feet, hands fumbling for her book and coffee as she looked to her real date. “I’m so sorry for the confusion! I got here early and we simply don’t get that many new faces in town. Daniel said—well it doesn’t matter. We made assumptions. I thought he was you.”
“No harm, no foul,” said Ross, though the glance he shot back at Dillon suggested otherwise. “Shall we?” He gestured for her to precede him.
“Thanks for the coffee and conversation,” said Dillon.
Aver
