Fray agreed to a 280-million-dollar settlement only because he wanted the whole thing to be over.

He grabs the last copy of the Post at the Stop and Shop and somehow resists looking at the paper in line. When he gets back to the car, Leland has the radio cranked to the rock station playing the top 500 songs of all time and she’s singing along to “Heaven,” by Bryan Adams.

“‘You’re all that I want! You’re all that I need!’” She turns down the music and grins at him. “This song has always reminded me of the Calvert Hall junior prom. Remember my lavender dress?”

Fray shakes his head but he can’t stop his smile. “I need coffee,” he says.

Frazier Dooley loves nothing more than a good breakfast place and as soon as he sees Island Kitchen, he knows he’s found one. It’s mid-island, right across the street from the Stop and Shop, as it turns out, so it doesn’t have a water view but the place is loaded with character. The post-and-beam construction is charming, there are lush pink impatiens in the window boxes, it feels rustic and homey—like the island’s kitchen.

Fray and Leland are seated at a two-top inside where Fray immediately detects the scent of Frayed Edge Classic Black. This comes as no surprise because it was his New England sales manager who gave him the name of this place.

A server with a dark ponytail and freckles—her name tag says SARAH—comes over, holding the signature Frayed Edge silver pot, and says, “Coffee?”

“Please,” Fray says, nudging the chunky ceramic mug forward.

“I’ll have tea,” Leland says. “Herbal, if you have it.”

“Right away,” Sarah says. She pours Fray’s coffee and, despite the steam, Fray can’t get it to his mouth fast enough. He looks at Leland. “You’re on a date with me and you’re ordering tea? Herbal tea?”

Leland laughs. “I did it just for that reaction.”

“Excuse me!” Fray calls out. “My beautiful friend here will have coffee as well. This is Frayed Edge, right?”

“That’s all we serve,” Sarah says. She takes a second look at Fray and he watches recognition cross her face. “Oh my God, you’re…”

Leland hoots. “Do you get recognized everywhere you go?”

Sarah pours Leland’s coffee and lowers her voice. “Someone called us yesterday to say you might be coming in. They wanted to make sure we had the signature pots and all the signage.”

“It looks great,” Fray says.

Sarah turns her attention to Leland. “Oh!” she says. “You’re the woman from the New York Post!”

“I don’t work at the Post,” Leland says. “I’m Leland Gladstone of Leland’s Letter?”

Fray gets a sinking feeling. The Post is folded in half on the bench next to him. “We’ll be ready to order in just a minute,” he says.