Daniel adjusted the fork.
Straightened the folded napkin.
Moved the iced tea two inches to the right.
Then stopped himself.
He had not realized anyone was watching.
Evelyn Carter was.
Their eyes met across the diner.
She immediately looked away.
Daniel disliked curiosity directed at that chair.
But he knew he had no right to be angry at someone merely noticing something strange.
He continued eating.
Across the room, Evelyn’s meeting ended before seven.
The two men stood, shook hands, and left.
Evelyn remained.
She ordered coffee.
Daniel checked the time.
6:44.
The door opened.
An elderly couple entered.
Not her.
Megan brought the apple pie.
“Want me to warm—”
“Not yet.”
Megan nodded.
6:51.
Daniel finished his meal.
The second plate remained untouched.
At 7:00 exactly, he stopped looking at the door.
That was another rule.
Waiting after seven felt too much like begging.
He drank his coffee.
Evelyn Carter crossed the diner.
Daniel noticed her shadow before he looked up.
“Excuse me.”
He folded the newspaper.
“Yes?”
She gestured toward the empty seat.
“May I?”
Daniel instinctively looked at the second meal.
“No.”
The answer surprised her.
It surprised him too.
He softened it.
“Sorry. That chair is taken.”
Evelyn looked at the untouched plate.
Then at him.
“Of course.”
She started to leave.
Daniel felt unnecessarily rude.
“There are other chairs.”
She stopped.
He nodded toward the chair at the end of the table.
“If you need something.”
Evelyn pulled it over.
She sat slightly sideways so she did not occupy the empty place.
That choice made Daniel like her marginally more.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“You already did.”
She gave a small smile.
“Fair.”
Daniel waited.
Evelyn wrapped both hands around her coffee mug.
“I’ve seen you here before.”
“That happens in restaurants.”
She smiled again.
“Every Friday.”
Daniel’s expression changed.
Evelyn immediately noticed.
“I’m not following you.”
“Good.”
“My office is three blocks away. I stop here more than people would expect from someone whose assistant keeps trying to make reservations at places with linen napkins.”
Daniel glanced toward Marlow’s paper napkin dispenser.
“Living dangerously.”
That made her laugh.
For a moment, the tension eased.
Then Evelyn looked toward the second meal.
“I’ve seen you order that plate four times.”
Daniel said nothing.
“You never touch it.”
“No.”
“And nobody sits there.”
“No.”
She hesitated.
Daniel knew the question before she asked.
“Who’s the empty chair for?”
His fingers tightened around the coffee mug.
Megan, twenty feet away, stopped pretending to wipe a table.
Marlow glanced from the kitchen.
Daniel could have told Evelyn to leave.
A year earlier, he probably would have.
Instead he looked at the plate.
“My daughter.”
Evelyn’s expression softened.
“She’s late?”
Daniel gave a humorless smile.
“Eighteen years.”
Something in Evelyn’s face shifted.