When he’d called to make the reservation for dinner, Jordan had requested a table near the window. The fluctuating early January temperatures had returned to normal, a brisk cold wind had swept clouds from the nighttime sky, and stars littered the heavens like a sprinkling of diamonds on black velvet. Rounding the table, he sat, watching Aziza staring out the wall of glass. “Beautiful.” She turned and smiled at him. “Yes, it is.” “I wasn’t talking about the view.” Aziza hesitated, replaying his compliment. It was apparent he was referring to her. She looked away again. “Thank you.” Jordan leaned over the table. “Did I embarrass you?” “No.” “If I didn’t, then why won’t you look at me?” Her gaze swung back, and she gave him a long, penetrating stare. “What are you doing, Jordan?” “What do you mean?” He waved away the waiter approaching their table. “Why are you sending me double messages? We claim not to be dating, yet you tell me to wear something nice because you’re taking me out to dinner.
