"Who says I'm worried?"

"Is it?" she says, suppressing a chuckle. "Because I didn't know there was a plan. You need to tell me these things, sweetheart."

"Yeah, you work on that."

The airy, carefree quality to this back-and-forth is something Kate hasn't realized she's been missing until right now.

Feeling lighter than she has in weeks, she swings their joined hands a little; casting a glance down the way, she spots the coffee shop Bill mentioned on a nearby corner.

"Because you want to stay on my good side," she says, smug as they approach the coffeehouse.

She's studying the caffeinated options, amused by the quirkier drink names and staff specialties.

(The Belle of the Ball sounds particularly delicious, if sweet.)

She's so intent on the board that she doesn't notice the two brunettes from earlier seated at a small table by a window.

"Great choice," she says with clear approval, turning to Bill. "Do you want to get anything for here?"

She looks over the giant cookies, scones, muffins and brownies, weighing Bill's options.

After much deliberation (including several sideways glances and half-smiles in Bill's direction), she settles on the enormous mocha chocolate-chip muffin with pecans.

"But what do you think? Good pick?"

"Nothing with sugar," she tells him breezily with a knowing smile. "It'll detract from the muffin."

Stepping forward, she orders a latte for Bill and a dry cappuccino for herself.

"My treat," she tells him as the barista plates the muffin.

The barista sets about making their drinks; Kate drops a tip in the cup by the register, then gives Bill's elbow a gentle squeeze.

"Be right back," she says, nodding toward the restrooms. "Grab us a seat?"

When Kate disappears around the corner, the brunette exchanges a look with her friend, then approaches Bill's table.

"Excuse me," she says, with a friendly smile. "I see you're here with someone, but I can't keep thinking that I know you from somewhere."

A beat.

"I swear that's not a line."

She appears to mull over this, her green eyes narrowing slightly as she tilts her head and studies him.

"I just can't shake the feeling," she says with a soft laugh. "Anyway, I'm Megan, and I'm an art student at USC."

She produces a business card.

"I'm a senior, but I'm running my own photography business."

Her expression, still friendly and open, takes on an appraising quality as she places the card next to Bill's saucer, one slim, tan finger tapping her contact information.

"If you're ever back in the area, give me a call or e-mail me. I'd love to shoot you sometime."

With a wink, she turns and saunters back to her table, where her wide-eyed friend is mouthing oh my god.

Kate reappears, approaching the counter to collect the drinks just as Megan is reclaiming her seat.

Her friend's giggly, "You did not just do that" is audible, but Kate is thanking the barista as she lifts the two over-sized ceramic mugs.

"So thoughtful," she says with a chuckle, glancing at the plate as she places the mugs on the tabletop.

Once she slides into her seat, she appropriates a pinch from the muffin's top and pops it into her mouth.

It's delicious; mouth closed while she chews, she makes a muffled sound of approval.

"I'll have to try to make these at home," she says, once she's swallowed.

Reaching for her cappuccino, she spots the girls across the room, and hides her amusement with her mug.