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the driver hadn’t been able to pull away yet.
    Grant got out, left his door open, and raced toward me. I tried to hurry into the building, but he caught me before I was there, turning me with a hand on my arm. He didn’t carry an umbrella, and was drenched, his dark hair sticking to his forehead, his clothes clinging to him.
    “What are you doing, Grant?”
    “You told me never to call you again, so I’m here in person.”
    “Wha—”
    “Have dinner with me tomorrow.”
    “No. Please go, I’m meeting friends.”
    “Give me one more chance.”
    “One more chance to humiliate me? No, Grant.” I tried to turn away, but he held me with both hands on my arms, rain running down his face because he stood just outside the bar awning.
    “One more dinner, that’s it. No Hollis, no arrangement—just me and you.”
    Jan’s voice came from behind me. She’d just arrived and was running for the door, umbrella in hand, laughing at the weather.
    “I have to go, Grant. I’m meeting—”
    His grip tightened. “Ask me again.”
    I shook my head, unsure what he meant.
    “Sophie, please. Ask me again .”
    Something about the look in his eyes—not quite desperate, but determined. Pleading. I knew what he wanted me to say. Despite everything I’d told myself about getting over him for the last several days, I whispered, “Do you care about me at all?”
    The muscles in his jaw worked, he blinked rainwater from his lashes. “Yes,” he said, almost a growl. “Yes, I care about you, Sophie.” He cupped my face in his hands. “Dinner tomorrow. Eight. One last chance, and if you feel the same, I won’t bother you again.”
    “Sophie, let’s get out of this weath—oh.” Jan seemed to have realized that the weather was the least of my concern. But she didn’t go in, instead she waited for me in the doorway.
    “All—all right,” I said. “I have to go.”
    “A car will be there at 7:30.” His thumb brushed my cheek. “I looked forward to it.”
    He let go of me, but didn’t move. I went into the bar with one glance back at him standing in the rain, a smile on his face.
    I could barely concentrate on anything Jan or the two men who joined us said, and soon realized it wasn’t just a potential business meeting, but sort of a double date. I had no interest in that. Even if Grant hadn’t shown up, dripping and asking for one more chance, I wouldn’t have been interested.
    Jan seemed to make inroads with the man who seemed taken with her, and after accepting the number of the other man—Greg, I think his name was—I took a cab home.
    Seven-thirty tomorrow night.
    It felt kind of pathetic at the time, but I desperately wanted Grant to knock it out of the park during his one last chance. Because if I went, and it was anything like the last dinner date we’d had, I wouldn’t be able to do this again.
    And thinking there might be another chance, even if I’d been lying to myself and saying there wasn’t, was probably the only thing that had gotten me through the last week.
    With the idea in my head that this really was it, I laid out the clothes and jewelry I would wear to dinner tomorrow, showered, and fell asleep hoping that I was making the right choice.

Nine – Grant
     
    I had done some shopping, and tried to work things out in my mind as best I could, before my dinner date with Sophie. Instead of picking her up myself, I sent a car. That would eliminate the need for small talk on the drive, and I could save everything I wanted to say for the restaurant, when we were both settled and hopefully comfortable.
    I rented the entire terrace of Maison d’Tristelle for our dinner. Our table was set with a centerpiece of various sized candles, and lanterns hung around the edge, casting a faint glow over the whole space. I wanted it to feel private, secluded.
    Intimate.
    And like our entire relationship, I would be in charge.
    The Grant I’d been over the past couple of weeks, that Grant wasn’t really me. He