We stood side-by-side in front of the case, the lunch crowd pressing loud and boisterous behind us. My friend bent down, hands on her knees, to admire the delicate chocolate confections arranged in perfect rows behind the glass. Her hair fell in gentle waves over her shoulders. I watched the man with the white apron tied around his waist watch my friend. Her eyes, blue like the Caribbean, settled on a dark chocolate truffle. His eyes settled on her.
“You like? You want to try, for free?” the man with the apron asked, sliding a truffle from the tray. He looked like an expectant puppy as he handed my friend the chocolate, waiting for her approval, her delight. My friend’s eyes darted toward mine before she took a dainty bite. The man with the white apron didn’t offer a free chocolate to me.