Three days later, it started with the billboards—or at least, that's when Riley finally noticed them. She'd avoided any movie ad ever since Gareth left her, his face seeming to mock her every time though it was no use, not with his career exploding three years ago—ever since he left her.

But with Ashe, Riley couldn't look away.

And as if the posters that popped up all over the subways and city streets weren't enough, there were Ashe's dark blue eyes staring back at her from Times Square and looking every bit like the hero he was supposed to be in a fitting blue-and-silver spacesuit. Isobel stood behind him, and behind her, with the signature smirk Riley knew so well, was Gareth.

Riley found herself staring at the Clear Channel Spectacolor display as the trio of actors' faces transitioned into a fight sequence between Ashe and Gareth in an airlock. And then there was Isobel. She was yelling at one of the characters to move out of the way before the scene changed again, and this time, it was Ashe, his gaze directed at the camera—only to be replaced by Gareth's face, till Riley just had to roll her eyes and look away.

Just when Riley thought she'd earned a big win by being able to walk away from Gareth's booty call two weeks ago, there he was all over the place again, reminding her of the years they'd spent together, the happy times and the sad times. And then there was the empty apartment he'd left behind after the guys he'd sent were done moving their things out, leaving her with nothing but the mattress they'd shared.

Was it some message? He was, after all, so much into symbolism, she thought, remembering their many deep conversations, because at least talk didn't cost money—not when all they had some days was ramen noodle soup in the cupboard and whatever she brought home from the diner. Was it supposed to mean that the mattress was the only place they'd connected until he found her lacking and moved on? Was that the only place he thought her good enough for? In bed?

Riley hated the times such questions popped up, often when she least expected them. She haven't gotten over him yet, even after three long years. Either that or there was simply too much of him everywhere she looked, and her self-esteem was still tied to that damn mattress even though she'd long since replaced it with a new one when she moved into her apartment. New place, new future, new mattress. Even if no one else had shared that damn bed with her since then—unless one counted the cat.

The next day, Tessa, one of the baristas at the Library Cafe, told her the plot of Ashe's latest movie, Sentience. It was about a trio of space explorers in the distant future who end up having to battle one another when an unknown virus takes over their minds and sets them at odds.

"And they're robots, by the way—or androids, or whatever," Tessa said before yelling out a name that sounded like 'Tipperary,' then handing a medium-sized cup of coffee to a woman with purple hair.

"So this virus infects them—" Riley began before Tessa nodded and continued.

"And they become human-like, with human emotions," Tessa said, wiping the counter before making another cup of espresso, this time, a caramel latte with soy milk. "So, just like regular people, they could have a lot of good in them yet also have some bad traits."

"Is Gareth Roman the bad guy?" Riley asked. She was filling in for Bill, another barista who had called in sick that day, and she had her list of drinks to make. These included a caffè Medici, which was a double-shot espresso poured over chocolate syrup and orange peel. It was one of Riley's signature coffee beverages, one that Paige had blogged about the previous year and still had customers coming into the Library to order.

"Oh, no!" Tessa laughed. "He's the good guy here. It's the other guy, that drop-dead gorgeous one, who turns out to be the bad guy! Ashe something...Ashe Hunter, that's it. I'm not sure, but Sydney saw the advanced screening, and that's what she said. They've switched it so that the good guy becomes the bad guy. It's the twist, but they're not supposed to tell people and spoil it."

"I think you just did," Riley chuckled.

"Sorry, I got carried away."

"No problem," Riley said. "What about Isobel, the girl? What's her role?"

Tessa shrugged. "Not sure, but she might be the one who'll save the world or something while the guys fight each other to the death. That would be good, right? Let the girl save the day while the men battle it out. Sydney said it's more suspense than anything—you know, like the first Alien movie? Anyone expecting special effects and extended fight scenes are going to be disappointed."

"But I mean, it's all in the title," Tessa continued, and Riley began to laugh. "I mean, Sentience. Sentient beings, beings who feel, who sense things. I mean, doh!"

They laughed, not caring what anyone else thought. Tessa Pollin was a new transplant to New York, having moved eight months earlier from San Francisco. She was young, bright and talkative. She and her boyfriend, Carl, were both students at the Film Institute, and both worked part-time at the Library Cafe.

Tessa loved talking about movies and pop culture, and without her, Riley would never know about the goings-on all over entertainment and social media. She knew who was dating whom, and which movies were coming out that week. She also knew what the latest chatter was about on social media, from Instagram to Snapchat. Sometimes Riley felt like Tessa's mother, so behind with what was hip when she should be on top of it. At twenty-three, she was only three years older than Tessa, and though she, at least, had a smartphone and sometimes did browse the internet, she mostly spent her free time reading her books. To further cement her reputation as the resident book nerd, once a month, Riley hosted a book club at the cafe where (mostly older) people would fill the corner of the shop to discuss books.

"So, are you going on a date tonight?" Tessa asked. "I saw on the schedule that you're off."

"What makes you think that I'm going on a date?"

"Because you've got this special glow about you, that's why," Tessa giggled, spreading her fingers in front of her face. "It's been there for the last two weeks. You've met some guy, huh? I just know it. Oh, look! You're blushing—you did meet someone! Come on, who is it? Spill!"

Riley felt her face burning. She snapped a hand towel at Tessa. "Shut up. I did not meet anyone. Can't a girl glow for some reason other than meeting a guy?"

"Unless she's pregnant, then no," Tessa laughed. "Usually, a person has to be in love or pregnant to get that glow or even both. And, girl, you've got it."

Riley rolled her eyes. "For your information, you are wrong about me going on a date with a guy. Because it's not one, it's actually three."

Tessa's eyes grew wide. "Three? You mean you're having a foursome?"

"Yup, and I've got quite an exciting night planned," Riley continued smugly as she proceeded to blend an espresso. "Dinner first, followed by a movie with some popcorn, and then off to bed with all three of them. A ménage à quatre, if you will. So yes, of course, I'm glowing. Who wouldn't be?"

"Is there room for one more?" asked a pleasant baritone voice. "A ménage à cinq, perhaps?"

Riley and Tessa's heads whipped toward the source of the voice, which had intruded into their conversation, both women's faces turning a bright shade of red. Tessa stared at the man standing behind the counter, partially blocked by the large espresso machine. Her mouth opened and closed as if trying to produce the name that she had spoken so easily before.

"Ashe," whispered Riley, "what are you doing here?"

"Getting a refill for my caffè Medici," Ashe replied in a hushed voice, grinning. He was wearing a blue beanie that gave him a boyish appearance, his day-old stubble making it look like he'd just rolled out of bed but looking like the bed he rolled out of was a GQ magazine. A tight T-shirt stretched across his torso above his jeans that seemed so tight that Riley wondered if sitting down was possible for him. She wondered if Ashe knew the effect he had on women—and men, too, no doubt— and what he thought about it. Well, doh—he's an actor, dummy. Of course, he knows the effect he has. He probably enjoys it and just plays it cool, like it doesn't matter.

Hearing herself speaking in Tessa's voice inside her head alarmed Riley momentarily, and she hoped she hadn't said anything out loud. She'd been thinking of Ashe every day since she'd met him, and had even signed up for email alerts at the mention of his name. Because he was actively promoting his movie, her inbox was cluttered with notifications to the point of being ridiculous.

"What do I need to do to get a refill around here, a song-and-dance routine?" he asked when neither woman made a move to serve him, but his gaze stayed on Riley.

"A song and dance would be great!" Tessa blurted out, but Riley snapped the towel at her. Tessa only rolled her eyes and mouthed party pooper. How Ashe had managed to find out where Riley worked stumped her—short of him stalking her, which was impossible.

But how had she managed not to notice him in the shop in all that time? That was impossible. How could she have missed him? If he had ordered a caffè Medici, that meant Riley had made it for him though he hadn't been the one to pick it up from the counter. Then she remembered that she had also been filling that crazy office order of many lattes.

"Give me a few minutes, and I'll bring it to you," she said though she almost croaked the words out. "Where are you sitting?"

"Over there," Ashe replied, pointing to a table on the patio where a beautiful blonde woman was busy typing on an iPad. Riley recognized her as the woman who had ordered a caffè Medici and a pumpkin latte earlier. She wondered where Collette was.

"What are you and your friend having?" Riley asked.

Ashe pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and placed a twenty-dollar bill on the counter. "A pumpkin latte and a caffè Medici, please."

From the corner of her eye, Riley saw Tessa pointing to herself, her mouth pantomiming, I'll bring it to him. Pleasepleaseplease!

"I'll have your order brought to you and no, this one's on the house—for paying for dinner that night," Riley said, pushing the twenty back toward him. At first, Ashe opened his mouth, about to object but she flashed him a determined look. Then he shrugged and slipped the twenty into the tip jar before turning away to join his companion.

It was difficult to concentrate on making up the new orders, but at least, Tessa took it upon herself to take care of the pumpkin latte. Then Riley let her take the drinks to Ashe's table and prayed that the poor girl wouldn't pass out cold from all the excitement. Maybe it had to do with being from California, or maybe it had to do with Tessa just being Tessa, a bona-fide fangirl.

When Tessa returned five minutes later, she was bouncing with excitement and, from the way she was holding her smartphone like it was the only thing that mattered to her, Riley presumed that Ashe had taken a photograph with her.

"He took a selfie with me! Look!" Tessa squealed in a whisper. "He said that he normally doesn't do selfies, but that he'd make an exception—because of you."

She showed Riley a picture of herself and Ashe smiling for the camera. Riley could see that his smile reached his eyes, and she congratulated Tessa before reminding her to stop fiddling with her phone lest she'd accidentally delete the picture.

"Oh, my God, if he weren't so into you, I'd be climbing Ashe like a tree right about now!" Tessa whispered as Riley stared at her horrified though it was only because she had no idea what Tessa had just said.

What tree?

By five p.m., Riley was done and ready to leave the cafe. Around six, people just out from work would stream in, though it would be a lot mellower then. Customers would usually find a table or couch where they could park themselves, open up their smartphones, tablets and laptops and, sipping their coffee, connect with the world while disconnecting from their surroundings.

Two girls deep in conversation, their cups of coffees between them along with a single cupcake on a saucer now occupied the table where Ashe and the woman had sat earlier. Ashe was nowhere to be seen and, given that she'd last seen him two hours earlier, Riley assumed that he'd left a long time ago.

Allen Morehouse, Library Cafe's majority owner, arrived to take over for the evening. Riley ran through the sales figures for the day with him and went through the inventory in the back room before slipping off her apron and collecting her purse. A stack of books that needed to be put back on the shelves caught her attention, and since they were unattended, she collected them and made her way to the shelves in the far corner.

There was a reason Allen had called his coffee shop the Library Cafe. He had owned a bookstore ten years earlier, and when it was gobbled up by the big bookstores and the recession, he decided to combine his love of coffee and books into one place, calling it simply the Library. And while his entire inventory in those days had long been sold, these days, the books that filled the shelves were left by customers for other people to enjoy. There was also a dedicated shelf for brand new books, usually by local writers toward the back of the coffee shop, with proceeds donated to a nearby literacy program for children.

As Riley made her way to the main shelves, she saw his boots first. They were unmistakably designer boots, ones that, if she had to ask the price, clearly she couldn't afford them—not that she needed men's shoes. As her gaze traveled up his long legs, she wondered if he'd been waiting for her all this time. No, get a grip on yourself, Ri, she thought. Why the hell would he be waiting for you?

Ashe was seated in a round armchair which made his long, lean form look uncomfortable, although 'wedged in' was probably a better description of his position. The chair-back was too low, the seat too shallow for comfort and the rounded armrests made lounging almost impossible. But Ashe had managed to squeeze himself into the armchair somehow, with one leg bent at the knee over an armrest and his torso tilted slightly diagonally to his left.

"Alright, stop it with the slacking off," she said, nudging his boot playfully. "I need to get through."

"Oh, let me do that," Ashe said, unwinding himself from the armchair. He still wore his beanie and Riley wondered how he'd managed not to get noticed. She also wondered what the hell he was still doing there.

"Thanks," Riley said as she watched him put the books away. She was tired, her legs badly in need of rest, but she had to be someplace else in half an hour.

"You seriously have been here for the last two hours? Are you sure you're not stalking me?" Riley asked him when he returned to the armchair, gathered his leather jacket and slipped it on.

"Yes, ma'am. But no, I sure am not stalking you," Ashe replied in a polite Southern drawl, complete with a tilt of his head and a huge grin. "I certainly hope it's not a crime to live close by."

She was about to retort when her phone alarm went off to remind her that she needed to be elsewhere. Without waiting for him to speak, she turned around and headed toward the door. Ashe was right behind her, and soon walking next to her.

"My meeting didn't finish till an hour ago, and I thought I'd wait for you. Besides, I can't get it out my head, this ménage à quatre of yours," he grinned. "You've piqued my interest so much I had to cancel the rest of my plans for the evening and hope you'll let me watch."

Riley stopped and stared at him. "Are you out of your mind? What I do is not worth anyone canceling their plans."

"I lied," he said, giving her a sheepish look. "I had no plans this evening, so I had nothing to cancel. But if you want me to leave you alone, I will."

Riley felt bad. He looked so sincere, and she was flattered that he'd waited for her. "I don't want you to leave, but what about your movie? The promotions and the interviews and all that?"

He shrugged, digging his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. "We just got back from Madrid yesterday, and for the rest of the week, I'm free. I'm afraid I'm still jet-lagged, so the old brain's a bit fuzzy," he said. The word 'fuzzy' sounded more like 'fozzy' when he said it.

"What about your friend? Where did she go?"

"If you mean Charmaine, she's a journalist. She interviewed me for a Hampton's magazine feature, and we were supposed to do the interview at around one at their office. But I did a photo-shoot that went two hours past schedule, so she suggested a nice restaurant down the street. But then I saw this place and remembered how it's known for its caffè-"

"Caffè Medici," Riley said, still walking as her phone alarm sounded again.

"When I saw that you were my barista today, I couldn't believe my good fortune," Ashe said, serious now. "I've wanted to call you, Riley. I know where you live, but it wouldn't have been proper just to show up at your door."

"It would have been creepy," Riley said. "Thanks for the flowers, by the way. They were gorgeous."

"You're welcome," he grinned.

"Did you write the note yourself?"

"Of course," he replied. "Can I walk you to wherever you need to go?"

"To my foursome, you mean?" Riley smiled. "You're that curious about my foursome, aren't you?"

"In a strange way, I am."

"Would you like to join me? Not just watch?"

"I'd love to."

Riley took a deep breath. "Well, I can always use an extra hand. I've got to warn you, though — a foursome can be messy."

"I don't mind messy."

"It can be loud."

"I don't mind loud," he said.

"It can be very exhausting. The participants can be very demanding."

"I can handle that, too. I work in Hollywood, remember?"

"You might even regret it and disown all possible progeny."

"I'll...take the risk," he replied though Riley noticed the pause. Then he gave her a sideways glance, as if suddenly unsure of his decision to come along.

The walk to her destination was relatively short, a mere ten minutes, and as Riley walked up the steps of a beautiful brownstone, she pulled off the elastic that kept her hair away from her face and shook her hair about her for dramatic effect, feeling like Greta Garbo.

"What are you doing?" Ashe asked.

"Trying to look sexy," Riley said. "You want to impress your hosts, don't you? Take off your beanie. Look manly—like you can handle what's to come."

Ashe gave her a look that was almost distressed, as if no longer sure that this was such a good idea. But he took off his beanie and ruffled his hair just the same. Then he cleared his throat and squared his shoulders, appearing taller and more confident. They heard the sound of a woman laughing from behind the door, then high heels tapping on wooden floors.

"Are you ready for this?" Riley asked, pursing her lips at him and lifting one shoulder in the best silly seductive move she could do.

"I...think so," Ashe replied, the tension on his face even more obvious now.