“Eva’s sister.”
“Yes.” She had a sinking feeling this jerk was Zac, the guy Eva was planning to marry if nothing else worked out. Her sister’s taste in men...well, it was pretty bad. Chris hadn’t found Mr. Forever yet, either, but at least her relationships were counted in months and years, not days and weeks. And she never dived into one without looking or thinking, the way her sister always did.
“I’m Zac.” He looked her over in a way that set her teeth on edge. “Wow. For a twin, you are nothing like Eva.”
Was that a compliment or an insult? She didn’t want him to think she cared either way. “I hear that a lot.”
He stood and held out his hand, blue eyes crinkling in the corners, blond hair a few shades darker than Summer’s. He was taller than she expected, and hot, in a California surfer-dude kind of way. Totally not her type. “I hear you’re going to be around awhile.”
“Just a month.” She turned back to Summer. “I’ll have a red eye, or whatever you call them here—coffee with a shot of espresso. And those reports? If you want, you can tell me where they are and I can get them.”
“No, no, it’s no problem at all.” Summer stepped over to the espresso machine. “They’re easy to find.”
“You should get more sleep.”
Chris stiffened, unable to believe Zac had just said that to her. “What?”
“Red eyes are caffeine on top of caffeine. If you treat your body well, it will give you all the energy you need on a lot fewer artificial stimulants.”
“Yeah, okay, thanks, that’s good to know.” She groaned silently. This guy made Ames seem like a sweetheart. Too bad, because he looked like a more rugged version of Chris Hemsworth, aka Thor. But if he was a regular here, Chris would either have to learn how to handle him or tune him out—or have him abducted by aliens.
“Forget the sales reports.” Zac put his hands on his hips, covered by worn jeans, which fit pretty fabulously, if you were prone to noticing stuff like that. Over them he wore a Dive and Surf T-shirt with a picture of a shark carrying a surfboard that had a huge bite taken out of it. “You should nap on the beach. You’re probably jet-lagged and your body needs—”
“You know, I’m not really a nap-on-the-beach kind of girl.” She balanced the acid in her tone with a smile as genuine as she could make it and stepped closer to the counter. “But thanks, really. I appreciate your concern.”
“Sure.” He didn’t move. “Do you surf?”
“No!” She laughed. “Not a whole lot of that rolling in on Manhattan.”
“You want to learn?”
“No. No, thanks.” She tried to look politely regretful, but wanted to ask what he was smoking. Though this being mellow California, she might not want to know.
“I bet I can change your mind.”
“Huh.” She had to bite her cheek to keep from shouting at him. “Actually, it would be great if you didn’t.”
“I’ll get those reports.” Summer thumped Chris’s red eye on the counter and disappeared into the back of the store, practically at a run.
“So you got sick of the big city, huh?”
Did he ever shut up? Chris turned back, arms folded. “What makes you think that?”
“Eva told me. I promised I’d help with your transition.”
“Oh. Thanks, that is so nice.” She wrinkled her nose. “But I’m an independent type. I’d rather find my own way around.”
“Message received.” He held up his hands, took a few steps back. “Not a problem.”
Whew. He did have an off button. She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks anyway.”
“Here you go.” Summer handed the reports across the counter. “Everything should be there.”
“Thanks, Summer.” She left the store and stopped outside, face turned up to the sun, enjoying its warmth. Eva would have to fill her in on the best way to handle Zac. In the meantime, one of these tables out here was calling her name.
Ten seconds after she’d settled and opened the sales report, a Zac-shaped shadow fell over her table. “Chris. Do me a favor.”