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  "Do I know you?" she asked.

  "I sure hope not," the man replied.

  Impulsively, she held out her hand. He took it in his own, engulfing her fingers with his own much larger ones. His handshake was firm, if a little damp from the wipes. He stood, and she saw that he was very tall. She had to tilt her head just to meet his eyes.

  "I'm--" she began, but the wailing siren and flashing lights of a police car cut off her introduction.

  The car skidded to a stop just beyond the construction site, and two uniformed officers leapt out. To Laila's shock, each held a gun, aimed right at them.

  If Hal hadn't been staring so hard at the lovely face of the woman he'd knocked over, he might have seen the cop car sooner. As it was, until the police officers shouted at him to put his hands up and step away from the woman, he'd just been lost in her lovely eyes. Mesmerized, he followed the movement of her hand as it brushed her dark, shoulder-length hair away from her face.

  "Move it, buddy!" The first cop, a tall, graying man with a football player's build, stepped forward and motioned with his gun.

  Maybe it was the knock on the head, but Hal couldn't figure out why they were shouting at him. The second, much younger officer, got even more aggressive.

  "Move away from the woman! Now!"

  The woman shifted her deep brown eyes away from Hal's to stare at the officers. "I think they mean you."

  Hal turned, hands up. "This must be a misunderstanding--"

  "Are you all right, ma'am?" The older cop crossed to them, looking Hal over warily before putting his gun away. "We got a report of an attack in progress here. A witness in the office building over there said she saw this man knock you down and assault you. She thought he might be drunk."

  If only the ground would open and swallow him up. Hal had been humiliated so many times in his life he thought he'd gotten used to it by now, but this was worse than anything he'd ever been through. The dried crust of blood itched on his upper lip, and both his knees and palms throbbed with scrapes from when he'd hit the pavement. He wouldn't blame the woman for having him hauled away in handcuffs.

  Instead, she just smiled and shook her head. "It was completely an accident, officer. No harm, no foul."

  Her sports terminology seemed to put the officer at ease. The younger of the two policemen seemed disappointed to be putting away his weapon. Hal was relieved.

  "Are you sure, ma'am?" The older cop looked Hal up and down with a bemused expression. "Then again, he does look worse off than you. Maybe the witness saw you attacking him."

  They all laughed heartily at that, even Hal. His chuckle came out through gritted teeth. The woman quickly explained the collision. She nicely omitted the part where Hal almost passed out at the sight of his own blood.

  "If you're sure you're all right," the older cop said with a tilt of his head toward the woman.

  "Fine, fine," she assured them. She checked her watch, a gesture Hal had seen her make several times over the past few minutes.

  Time! What time is it? His gaze flew to his own wrist, but the fall had shattered his cheap watch's face. Whatever time it was, he was sure he was late.

  The policemen had already gone back to their car and driven away, leaving Hal and the woman to stand awkwardly on the sidewalk. She gave him a weird, little smile, and Hal realized he was staring.

  "I'm--"

  The woman said pleasantly, "Like I said, no harm done. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've really got to run."

  She checked her watch and a shadow of annoyance passed over her face. She muttered something under her breath that sounded like "Late again," while shaking her head. She tucked her water bottle and the baby wipes back in her purse. With a little wave at Hal, she set off down the alley again with a purposeful stride.

  "Hope the rest of your day goes a lot better," she called over her shoulder.

  "Thanks," Hal said. "It can't possibly get much worse."

  He watched her move out of his range of vision, which wasn't far since his glasses were in a crumpled, shattered heap on the concrete. As she became nothing more than a blur, he willed her to turn back just once so he could see her pretty features one last time. She didn't oblige him, her walk never faltering, and when she turned the corner, Hal let out a sigh that seemed to come all the way from his toes.

  Why couldn't he meet an attractive woman like that without making an utter ass of himself? Gathering his gym bag, he thought about trying to call her, offer to take her to dinner as a way to make up for knocking her over.

  A great idea, he thought, if only I'd learned her name.

  Chapter 2

  "I'd like a slice of the chocolate cake and a pot of tea. Two cups, please," Laila told the girl behind the counter. "And that popcorn smells too good to resist. A small bag."

  Laila found a table and started eating. The clock on the wall opposite her said ten to eight. She'd made the appointment for seven-thirty. Ms. Whitehead had assured her the escorts were all extremely punctual. Except, it seemed, for Hal.

  It wasn't too late to cancel. She could just pay for her food to go and walk away before he even showed up. Bubbe and Zayde's anniversary week wouldn't start until next weekend. She had plenty of time to think up some excuse as to why her phantom fiancé was absent from yet another Alster family gathering.

  The problem was that she was running out of excuses. Last Thanksgiving had seen her in the Bahamas with her college roommate, Kasey Arlin. Hanukkah had been too far away from Christmas last year for her company's annual break to coincide, and New Year's had been spent with her brother Elijah's family. Their tiny house barely confined Eli and Sarah's rambunctious four kids, so dragging a boyfriend along would have been out of the question, even if she'd really had one to drag.

  Now it was already October again, with another round of expected family gatherings looming and no real reason not to show up with her alleged boyfriend in tow.

  "Bring him, bubbeleh, for the week," Bubbe Esther had told her every time they spoke on the phone. "What...he's so busy he can't meet his future grandmother-in-law?"

  It wasn't that Laila didn't want a boyfriend. In theory, having a companion was a great idea. But when it came right down to it, Laila didn't have the patience or desire to give herself to anyone the way Ian had forced her to give herself to him. It frightened her to take that risk again, though she knew it unlikely she'd end up with a man as manipulative and demanding as Ian Soloman. Still, she hadn't been able to do more than share a single date with any one man in the three years since Ian's death.

  It drove her family crazy, and they never ceased pestering her about her love life. Finally, in desperation, Laila had promised her grandmother that she would arrive at the Poconos resort with a man. Once Bubbe got on the phone with Laila's mother, the news spread like wild-fire through the family. They were all expecting to meet him.

  If she showed up without him--suffice to say they'd never leave her alone about her love life again. No, the simplest thing, she'd decided was to bring "her man" along and stage a spectacular break up. That would buy her some time. Then when someday, finally, she really did have a boyfriend to bring home, they'd all be so relieved they wouldn't bother picking him apart.

  She checked the clock again. Eight o'clock. If he wasn't here in fifteen minutes, she'd take it as a sign from above that she wasn't meant to have a LoveMatch.

  She finally caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye. He stood in the Coffeehouse's corner doorway, his glasses steamed from stepping from the chilly October air into the heated room. His head swayed side to side, looking for her.

  Something about him seemed so familiar. His stance, the way he combed his hair, the way his hands tugged nervously at his jacket zipper. There was more to it than merely having seen his picture, but Laila couldn't quite figure out what it was.

  He took off his glasses to rub them with the tail of his shirt. Recognition startled her into knocking over her teacup. It was the man from yesterday. The one wh