Chapter 43

I frown, not quite sure how he’d know what I like from Angelo’s. It was built the year I graduated from college—by then, Derek was gone. “And you know what that is how?”

He flashes me a toothy smile and drops into the chair. “I asked at the counter. Apparently you eat there often enough for them to know what you like to get.”

One of the perks—or perils—of living in a small town: everyone knows everyone else’s business. Pulling out another chair, I take a seat and a Coke at the same time. The crisp sigh of release when I twist the cap is almost as satisfying as the first sweet sip.

Then something else bothers me, and I set down the bottle to frown at him again. “Wait, how do you even know about Angelo’s? You were already in Hollywood by then.”

With a smirk, Derek points out, “One, I was never in Hollywood. I was a singer, not an actor. The recording studio was in New York.”