Chapter Two: A Second Cup
His name was Daniel Reeve, and he was a travel writer recently back from a six-month stint in Southeast Asia. He'd never been to The Grind before, but had ducked in to escape the rain and - apparently - soak her blouse.
They ended up sharing a table after all the others were full. Sophie, against her better judgment, allowed it.
"So, what's your story?" he asked, sipping his replacement black coffee.
"I work in finance. Spreadsheets, investments, client portfolios. It's less exciting than wandering through Cambodia, I imagine."
He grinned. "Depends. I bet you've got a hundred stories hidden behind that laptop."
She raised an eyebrow. "You think everyone's life is novel-worthy?"
"I think everyone has a chapter they haven't written yet."
The words lingered.
She closed her laptop.