The café in Hollywood was near a lot of the sound stages and backlots, so a lot of famous people ate there. Case had arrived early, wanting to get a table away from the front. He was in a booth, nervously twiddling his thumbs, when the maître d showed Sarah to the table.
She came over to him, her arms open, and even though he didn’t want to, Case stood to embrace her. She kissed his cheek, much closer to his lips than he cared for. “You look amazing,” she said, her eyes wandering down him. “It’s so great to see you.”
“Thanks. You look nice, too.” He gestured for her to sit down, praying there was no lipstick on his face. He didn’t want to look too closely, but she didn’t seem to be showing yet, so that was something. “How are you?”
“Ugh. Morning sickness kicked in a couple of weeks ago.
