She Shared a Table During Lunch Rush, Not Knowing Her Seatmate Was a Millionaire Falling Fast
A Rainy Encounter and a Secret Shared
The lunch rush at Cafe Laurette was in full swing when Eliza Gardner realized she’d made a critical mistake. Every table was occupied, and her 30-minute break was ticking away. Rain pounded against the windows, making the warm cafe even more appealing than eating under an awning.
Her stomach growled in protest as she clutched her tray, scanning the crowded space for any opening.
“Excuse me,” a deep voice called from her right. “You’re welcome to share if you’d like.”
Eliza turned toward the sound, finding a man in a charcoal suit sitting alone at a small table for two. He gestured to the empty chair across from him. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, and the sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up to the elbows.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude,” Eliza said, already taking a step toward the table.
Her feet ached after standing for four hours straight at the publishing house where she worked as an assistant editor.
“Please join me. It seems wasteful for me to hog a whole table when people are standing,” he said with a genuine smile. “I’m Harrison, by the way. Harrison Frost.”
“Eliza. Thanks for saving me from soggy lunch in the rain,” she said, sliding into the seat.
She set down her tray containing tomato soup, a grilled cheese sandwich, and sparkling water.
“Comfort food,” Harrison observed with an approving nod. “Smart choice on a day like this.”
Eliza smiled, noticing his warm brown eyes had a hint of gold in them.
“It reminds me of sick days as a kid. Mom would always make tomato soup and grilled cheese when I stayed home from school.”
“The universal cure-all,” he agreed.
“Mine was chicken noodle soup and buttered toast cut into triangles. Had to be triangles, or apparently, the healing properties wouldn’t activate.”
He made a mock serious face that made Eliza laugh.
“Obviously, everyone knows rectangle toast doesn’t fight germs.”
Harrison laughed, and Eliza noticed how his entire face transformed. She saw the slight crinkles around his eyes and the flash of straight white teeth.
“So what do you do Eliza, when you’re not rescuing strangers from eating alone, that is?”
Harrison took a sip of his tea, watching her over the rim of his mug.
“I work at Pinnacle Publishing just down the street. Assistant editor, which mostly means I fix other people’s grammar and occasionally get to discover amazing new writers.”
She dipped her grilled cheese into the soup.
“What about you?”
Harrison hesitated for a split second.
“I’m in real estate development. Building stuff.”
“That sounds interesting,” she said, taking a bite of her sandwich. “More interesting than correcting comma splices all day, anyway.”
“It has its moments,” he said with a small smile. “Though I suspect discovering the next great American novel beats approving building materials any day.”
