How ridiculous was it that she liked a guy but didn’t even know his name? She didn’t wait for guys; it wasn’t her style. But she had a feeling he’d be coming to get his usual coffee before rushing out to rehearsal. Interesting that he drank boring old black coffee. He was such a colorful, unique guy in his costumes that it seemed he should have a more complicated coffee order. The door opened and in he came, carrying a plastic bag. He wore a fedora and a leather jacket instead of his longer overcoat. He smiled a cocky grin and then she realized that he was Indiana Jones. “You’re here.” He tipped his hat. “I’m like a bad penny. I always turn up.” He stepped toward the counter to order. “Wait.” She laid a hand on his arm and then realized that was more personal than they’d been and snatched her hand back. “We’ve met and talked a couple of times now, but I still don’t know your real name.” He extended a hand to shake. “Humphrey, but my friends call me Free.”
