CHAPTER 8
AS I EXPECTED, watching Raul in the evenings proved to be more difficult than in the day. I toyed with the idea of having dinner at Monty’s, but as darkness fell, the place filled up with couples and I’d have stuck out sitting in the corner with my laptop. Even more so without it. What would the other diners think of me? The girl who’d been stood up? Or the one who couldn’t get a date in the first place. Or worse, the woman on the prowl—I wasn’t blind, and I knew I looked all right, which made hanging out alone an invitation for unwanted company.
So, for the last two evenings, I’d skulked in the shadows of the alley between the chandlery and the café, the dark purple hood of my sweater low over my eyes. A tipsy man ventured in, d**k out for a piss, but he stopped mid-stream whe
