Be yourself. Although it’s tempting to try and impress your date, you’re doing both of you a disservice. Be honest about who you are and what you like and encourage him to do the same.

—Excerpt from Finding Mr. Right-for-You by Dr. Kate

Kate stepped from the fog of the bathroom and toweled off her wet hair. She could smell bacon frying and hear it sizzling on the griddle. She’d come to expect Lucas’s big breakfasts on Saturday and had decided it was a nice start to a weekend. As long as she stayed out of the kitchen while Lucas cooked and she didn’t have to see the counters splotched with pancake batter or the cracked eggshells in a pile near the sink. If she faced the wall as she ate and didn’t have to see the mess, she could almost put it from her mind.

Kate was shoving her towel into the bedroom hamper she’d bought when the phone rang. By the time she entered the kitchen, Lucas had answered.

“Who’s calling?” he asked, setting the greasy spatula on the counter. “Just a minute.” He handed her the phone, wearing an inscrutable expression.

“Who is it?” she mouthed

“Bryan.” Lucas turned and stirred the pancake batter.

Kate’s adrenaline spiked like she’d had three shots of espresso. Why was Bryan calling? She walked toward the back door and put the phone to her ear.

“Hello?” Her tone was cool and collected.

“Hi, it’s me.”

It rankled that he could still say that. It’s me. Like they were still so close he needn’t identify himself. Had he forgotten he’d dumped her for someone else? Kate stepped out the back door and closed it behind her, keeping Bo inside.

“Bryan. How are you?” There was nothing in her voice to make him think she actually cared to hear the answer.

“I’m good. Better than I’ve been in weeks.”

“Wonderful. Is there something I can help you with?” Polite. Friendly, but not too friendly. It unnerved her that it was such a strain. Was it just barely over a month ago that he’d kissed her good night on the eve of their wedding day?

“Kate, I’m so sorry. It’s killing me to hear you like this. Like we’re strangers or business acquaintances.”

Did he have any right to tell her about his pain?

“I called to say I was wrong,” he said. “I know that now.”

Kate stared toward the horizon and leaned against the square column that supported the roof.

“Things are over with Stephanie.” He said it like he expected her to shoot off fireworks in celebration.

Stephanie. So that was her name. It was no one Kate knew. She was glad for that.

The pause was deafening. Emotions twisted in her like vines around a tree. She wasn’t sure which was strongest.

“Kate, did you hear me?”