“Here.” Jayden thrust the espresso towards him.
Darren stared.
“You said I could get it next time,” Jayden reminded him, biting his lip. Was that a bit weird? He’d only met him once, after all, but Darren had been so…so…not nice, exactly, but so…differentthat he’d gone straight to Costa and gotten their orders before even coming here. It had felt right.
Darren took the cup. “Thanks,” he said, and it seemed genuine enough. Jayden forced himself to relax. “Pull up a chair. I have to do some retuning, I was completely off-key in the last movement.”
“I can’t believe he said it was awful,” Jayden admitted, pulling up an abandoned chair. The others were filtering out in small clusters, the noise beginning to die down.
“He always says that,” Darren shrugged, plucking the strings with his index finger. He held the violin in his lap, the coffee cup sitting by his right foot. “Mr. Weber’s a bit temperamental.”
“A bit?”