“Thanks.” Celeste turns away from me and clears her throat. “Anyway. Sorry if this is rude of me, but can you do me a favor while I work?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Could you please find a good restaurant for us?” she asks. “I ended up having to do a few more things before I picked you up, so I didn’t have time to find a place. We can go wherever you want. And again, it’s on me.”

“Of course! I’ll be on my computer anyway, so it’s no problem.”

A few minutes later, we arrive at a small harbor with picturesque bright white yachts bobbing up and down in the greenish-blue waters.

Two gorgeous—and very tall—models, a man and a woman, stand in front of one of the boats. They both wave at us as we get out of Celeste’s car. The man is wearing a white tux, like James Bond, while the woman is wearing a red evening gown and Louboutins.

“So clearly I’m not the target demographic for this commercial,” I remark as Celeste parks the car.

Celeste grins. “Don’t worry. I’m not, either. I’m just here for the job.”

When we get out of the car, I take in the beautiful scenery. White mist clings to the mountains behind us, while on the other side of the bay, faraway and faint but still beautiful, is the San Francisco city skyline. Seagulls perch on the waves that brush against the yachts floating on the water. As far as winter in SF goes, it’s a nice, relatively sunny day, with the perfect setting to match.

“There’s a coffee shop that’s a five minutes’ walk away from here,” Celeste says, taking out her equipment from the back seat. “I double-checked this morning before my errands since I wanted to make sure you had a place to work. Text me if you need anything. And come back around sunset.”

“Okay, thanks.” I grab my bag from the car.

Celeste gives me a hug before we go our separate ways. It’s more than a little chilly, so I linger in her arms a bit more than necessary.

Small trees and quaint storefronts line the way to the coffeehouse, making me feel like I’ve stepped into another era. The ocean breeze stirs up the skirt of my dress, and I have to hold it in place to avoid a Marilyn Monroe moment.

Fortunately, the coffeehouse is relatively empty, so I’m able to find a nice spot by the window with a beautiful view of the Bay. I order myself a mocha before turning on my computer.