Enticing scents rose up to tease him. Decadent chocolate and rich cream were cut and complimented by the bittersweet, slightly nutty aroma of coffee. Wherever she’d picked these up, these drinks were worth their fluid weight in gold if the taste was as good as the smell.
She lifted a regular twelve-ounce cup. “Coffee. Dark roast. Sweetened with raw sugar. The store included a few extra packets in case it isn’t sweet enough, I guess.”
The packets were laid flat in the well of the cup holder. Good eye. He hadn’t even noticed them.
“I’m assuming at least one of those is your hot chocolate.” He took the coffee from her before he managed to rile her up enough to toss it at him. He’d made that mistake in the past with another woman.
“Mmm.” But she didn’t lift the smaller cup to her lips. Instead she held it out to him, as well. “Drinking chocolate, also known as sipping chocolate. Not hot chocolate. I’m a firm believer in everyone trying it from this place.”
He raised an eyebrow but took the cup from her. It was about the size of an espresso cup. To go. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it, Mr. Yeun.” She took the last, espresso-sized cup and headed to the armchair in the corner. Then she breathed deeply of the aroma wafting from her prize.
“Kyle, please. No reason we can’t be on familiar terms even in strained circumstances.” It would actually help put him more at ease.
She nodded in acknowledgement but her attention seemed to remain on her precious cup, taking tiny sips and savoring.
Curious, he followed suit. Chocolate. Cream. More complex subtlety than he’d expected though with undertones of sweetness and bitterness. “What’s the difference between drinking chocolate and hot chocolate?”
Her eyes were half-hooded as she sipped. For a second, it didn’t seem as if she’d answer him, but then she did. “Different ratio of chocolate to milk for one thing. And drinking chocolate doesn’t have cocoa powder at all, I don’t think. Some hot chocolate mixes are nothing but or a mix of cocoa powder and shaved chocolate.”
Amusement bubbled through him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d competed against food for a woman’s attention and lost. Here, with Isabelle Scott, there wasn’t even a competition. And he was not coming out the winner.
“No packets of instant hot chocolate for you, I’m guessing.” He grinned when her eyes opened all the way so she could glare at him. “I’ll take that as a no.”
She checked her smartphone and glanced around the room as if ticking off a mental checklist. Then she took another sip of her drinking chocolate, obviously enjoying it. And ignoring him.
Well, that wouldn’t do.
“Did you want to make yourself a sandwich or shall I put all this back in the refrigerator?” He tipped his head to indicate the table full of sandwich fixings since he was apparently double fisting beverages.
Nonalcoholic beverages.
It might be another first. Actually, he was fairly certain it was.
“Leave it, please.” She unzipped her duffel bag, letting it sit open enough to reach inside and pull things out quickly. “I’ll make myself a sandwich after I’ve finished this.”
“No rush.” He chuckled. Placing his two beverages on the table, he took a seat in front of his sandwich and began his meal. “So what’s the ratio for drinking chocolate as compared to hot chocolate?”
He only partially cared. What was more fascinating was that she knew. And apparently, was discerning when it came to her chocolate intake.
“Hot chocolate is one part chocolate to two parts milk. Drinking chocolate is one part chocolate to one part milk.” She hesitated. Sipped. “The shop I stopped in makes other special drinks. Today’s was a salted caramel hot chocolate or drinking chocolate. But I decided to get the classic for starters.”
He found himself grinning again. It seemed to happen often with her and he’d only encountered her less than twenty-four hours ago. “So you plan to visit the shop again.”
“Maybe. It’s one of the places where I can see something being made from start to end. Harder to slip anything into what we order.” She pressed her lips together. “Or I’ll have one of our colleagues make a run tomorrow. It wouldn’t be good to develop an observable pattern to tip anyone off. I don’t think you’ve been observed with me yet, but it’s possible.”
He frowned then. “How so?”
She’d been careful to keep her hair tucked under a hat and wear nondescript clothing as they’d left the Safeguard offices. They’d driven away in separate cars out to some ridiculous distance away from the city before changing vehicles to return together. It was far greater lengths than he’d anticipated and even Officers Weaver and Austin had been disgruntled about all the driving.
“Hotel lobby last night had security cameras.” She shrugged. “Puts us in the same place at the same time. Plus you made inquiries about me. Safeguard won’t answer any queries about whether you contracted with us but a smart person could make logical connections. Then they’d just have to look for me to find you.”