Anja swallowed. She didn’t trust her voice, so she took the pen from Susanne and wrote yes with three exclamation marks beneath Susanne’s message. Then she held the sheet of paper out for her to read.

“Great.” Susanne beamed. “Where do you want to go?”

The bell above the door jingled, announcing another customer.

“Surprise me,” Anja whispered to Susanne.

“Surprise me, she says,” Susanne growled as she shoved her cell phone back into her pocket. “Yeah, she will be very surprised when I take her to some fast-food place.”

She had called a dozen restaurants, but none of them had any free tables for tonight, no matter how much money she offered. Maybe it shouldn’t have come as a surprise; it was Valentine’s Day after all.

Well, there was always option B: she could cook for Anja. Usually, she didn’t like wasting her time cooking, but she was a more than decent cook if she put her mind to it. Plus dinner at her place would be more intimate than a restaurant—no other diners and no waitress to interrupt them at just the wrong moment.

Susanne nodded as she warmed up to the idea.

Then she remembered that she didn’t even have a table or chairs in her dining room. No way could she invite Anja to a romantic Valentine’s Day dinner and then expect her to eat bent over the coffee table.

Dammit.

Anja stuck her head out of the store. “Everything okay?”

Susanne paused her pacing along the cobblestone street. “Oh yeah. Everything’s fine.”

“Did you find us a place to have dinner?”

“Um, yes.” Susanne glanced at her watch. If she hurried like crazy, maybe she could buy a table and two chairs and cook a not too extravagant but delicious dinner. “But I’ll have to take off now. Is that okay?”

Anja sent her a startled gaze. Then a smile curled her lips. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those women who need three hours to get ready for a date.”

“No, I… You’ll just have to wait and see what I have in store for you. I’ll pick you up at seven. Um, better make it seven thirty.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Anja said, her voice soft as a touch.

Susanne knew she needed to get going, but she couldn’t resist giving her a gentle kiss. “Me too,” she whispered against her lips.

After lingering for a moment longer, she forced herself to step back and hurried down the street toward her car. She had three and a half hours to get furniture, assemble it, buy groceries, and cook dinner. It was crazy, but as she skidded down the ramp and into the parking garage, she decided that Anja was worth it.