"You're late," she tells me briskly.
"Had to pick out tablecloths and wall décor for Thursday."
"Really? You're good at interior design?"
"Nope. That's why I'm here and not there."
She cracks a rare smile. "I still haven't decided. I'll save you the effort of asking."
"About Thursday?"
"No. About karate."
"No surprise."
Her eyes narrow.
"What about Thursday?" I ask.
She hesitates. "Maybe."
"Maybe," I repeat, eyebrows lifting. "Did hell freeze over?"
"No, but your coffee did while waiting for you." She sets down the mug in her hand. "Drink up, soldier boy!"
"Very sweet of you to set out my pie and coffee," I reply with a grin. "I'll try not to be late tomorrow."
She flushes. "I don't … I didn't …" Flustered, Claudia whirls and leaves, her usual defense mechanism for when I manage to elicit some sort of emotion from her.
Unusually satisfied that she almost admitted to waiting for me, I'm smiling more widely than the situation should warrant. That there might be a thaw to her cool courtesy genuinely impresses me. I was beginning to believe either my leg or my perseverance or something else about me was putting her off.
The coffee is cold and the pie warm from sitting out. I can't find it in me to care today. I'm too satisfied with my micro-victory to question what happened here. I'm halfway through my cold coffee when Bev sends me another text. This one, I can actually help out.
Leaving money for the food and my usual generous tip, I stand. I catch Claudia's pretty hazel gaze. "Gotta run. Be in tomorrow at the usual time." With a wink, I don't wait for her to give me the cold shoulder and leave.