“I’m not sure I’d say all that,” he said with a grin, but she waved him off.

“You don’t have to. I just did.” She immediately burst out laughing, and he shot her a perplexed look, eventually joining in the laughter when she explained, “I’m here offering pronouncements on your personality when I don’t even know your name.”

“Come through, Alicia Keys,” Tristan teased.

“That song went the other way,” the woman he was increasingly becoming interested in said right before she moved into belting out the chorus of the song.

“Wow,” he responded. “I was just teasing, but you got some pipes on you. I’m Tristan.”

“Cosima,” she said, offering her hand to him. “It’s been nice to meet you.”

Nice doesn’t even begin to describe it, he thought, but Tristan focused on enveloping her smaller hand in his own, amazed at how good it felt to touch her.

Tristan ignored the pang of loss he felt when she withdrew her hand and returned to eating her food as they continued their conversation. It flowed so easily he caught himself being quiet once or twice, marveling at the serendipity of it all. She was witty and goofy and passionate about so many things that he was sure he could sit and listen to her talk forever. She painted her job as an editor of novels so vividly that he couldn’t help but wonder if she moonlighted as an author herself. He found himself telling her about the detailed schedule he’d had planned for Nia and how much he’d been looking forward to taking her ice skating on Christmas Eve.

“I think I might go by myself,” he said. “I’m assuming that this is a judgment-free zone where I can admit I might have been looking forward to skating myself even more than taking her.”

Cosima laughed. “I think you should go. If you chicken out when you get there, you can grab a coffee and watch other people having fun. I like the idea of ice skating, but I’m afraid of busting my ass even more, so I’m always content to just watch. I’m so clumsy that I’ve realized the only thing these legs are made to do is walk — no heels, no wheels, none of that.”

She reached for her drink and seemed shocked to find it empty, just as she had the last two times she’d reached for the glass. Tristan wondered if she, like him, was amazed at how easily the conversation flowed. It flowed straight through their meal, a second round of drinks, and then a third. Tristan found himself sliding the menu over to her and asking about dessert just to prolong the inevitable end of their conversation.

He worried she would immediately say no to dessert but was relieved when she started browsing the menu.