“This has got to be the coolest restaurant I’ve ever seen,” I say excited. “Let’s take photos quickly before they throw us out.”

He chuckles. “Aren’t you hungry?” he asks.

“I am, but judging by this long line, we’ll never get a table.”

The restaurant, with sun umbrellas on the patio and three levels inside, is packed. There are dozens of people waiting—patiently or not—for their turn to sit and eat and gawk.

“That’s where a little planning comes in handy,” he says and after he chats for a minute with a waiter, he tells me to follow him. Not only do we have a table, but we have a table on the outer edge of the patio, with almost a 360-degree view. A breathtaking view.

“This place might not look like much and it’s far from being fancy, but you can’t beat the views,” says Ethan. “The food is not bad either. I know you said you’re a picky eater.”

“I changed my mind,” I say and laugh.

We enjoy a super-tasty meal with wine for me and sparkling water for Ethan. The sun is setting. “You are right. You can’t beat this.”

“Happy you like it.”

We continue looking at the sunset and from time to time, I glance at him. He is one good-looking man. As much as I try not to think about it, it’s hard not to. Very hard.

“Today was very—” I think of a word that could sum it up. “Unexpected.”

The lopsided smile. “I got to know you when you were mad at me, so I know that side. Thought I’d try your happy, sunny side for a change.”

And what a spectacular try it is. Don’t know if anything can beat this day.

“Hmmph,” he says and, turning from the ocean, looks straight into my eyes. “And you know what? I can’t decide.”

“Decide what?”

“Which side of you is more attractive.”

Sixty-Four

My eyes pop out of my head. Did he just say that?

He starts laughing; a belly laugh. “Your face,” he says, still chuckling. “Just kidding, relax.”

Jeez. I thought he was flirting with me. He’s not. Why not? Obviously, because I’m in love with Max. And he’s a good friend who’s only spending time with me to make sure I’m not some sort of psycho who will hurt his friend. That’s all there is to it.

“I knew you were joking,” I say, and it sounds just as stupid as I feel.

He knows it and I know it. For a second there, I thought he meant it.

“This place is pretty special,” he says, completely unrelated. “A bunch of famous people are part of its history.”

I shake off the feeling of disappointment. We’re friends, I remind myself. “Like who?”

“Rita Hayworth and Orson Welles. The legend says they were hiking or whatever they were doing, they stumbled upon this place and fell in love with it. They bought it on the spot.”

“Hah,” I say and I try to imagine how it must feel to be so spontaneous. So crazy. Crazy in love and just crazy and reckless in general.