Thomas Gates was not there, really, for romance. No, he was to meet an old friend. He sat at a corner table in the caf , his back to the wall, something he always loved as he could see the whole of what was going on before him. Thomas lived nearby and nearly every Saturday was found at Spinnakers. Alone, maybe, but not lonely, a bad marriage made sure that he was more than careful when it came to women. He loved them, a bit too much, but these days he preferred to stay alone. It was just easier for him.
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