Sandra must have caught something in his expression because she glanced over her shoulder and saw Miranda. A faint smile scooped out the dimple in her cheek.
“Oh, sugar, I should have been paying attention. It’s after nine. Let me and Isaac clean up. You have to get home.”
Andrew winced. Nine o’clock. He’d totally forgotten his dinner reservation. Forgiveness wasn’t exactly high on the temperamental chef’s list of qualities, either. Oh, well. Five minutes of drama spewed out in French was worth the unexpected bonus of seeing Miranda again.
Miranda looked torn. “I can stay a few more minutes. I’m sure Daniel won’t mind.”
Daniel?
His gaze automatically slid to Miranda’s left hand. No ring circled her finger. Not that that meant anything these days.
Disappointment crashed over him. Maybe this was the answer to his prayer. God was telling him that Miranda Jones wasn’t available. Because whomever Daniel was, he was obviously significant. There was love in her eyes when she said the name.
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