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Finn Rampart nearly spat out the coffee he’d just drunk when he saw the woman whose number had just been given to him punch the tall, dark-haired man who’d given him said number right in the nose.
The man reeled but managed to stay upright. Blood dripped from between his fingers as he held his hand to his nose. It looked like he was either talking or trying to keep from passing out. Maybe both. The woman was now verbally laying into the dude, her face furious.
Finn looked around. No one else in the coffee shop seemed phased by this display. Everyone went about their business as if this was just an everyday occurrence. And maybe it was! This part of D’Qar Forest was supposedly a little rough-edge, but Finn hadn’t seen anyone land a punch like that since his days in the service.
His eyes widened when he turned and saw the woman, still looking furious, now eyeing him. She spat what seemed to be another scathing remark at the tall man still holding his nose, who shrugged or shuddered or something. Her face dark with fury, she stalked across the room, and Finn realized that she was headed straight for him.
By the time it occurred to him that he might want to consider running like hell, she was already at the side of his table.
The woman wasted no time. “Did that man over there give you my phone number?”
Finn didn’t have to look where she was pointing. In his peripheral vision, he saw that the tall man had slumped into a chair.
“Uh … yeah. He did.” Finn tried not to gulp.
“I didn’t ask him to do that,” she said, her eyes still gleaming with rage. “He did it without my permission.”
“Oh. Oh shit. I didn’t know.” Finn glanced over at the man again. He now held a paper napkin that was sopping up the blood from his nose. “He said you were his cousin.”
“I am.”
“Um, he said that you had noticed me sitting over here.” Finn paused. “And thought I looked, uh, ‘tasty.’ He said you were single and I should give you a ring and take you out some time.”
The woman’s cheeks pinkened, but she didn’t respond. Finn breathed out in relief. He thought he might get a punch in the nose himself for that one.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you didn’t know he was gonna do it.”
Finn felt like an idiot, and he pushed a napkin covered in inky scrawl toward her.
“I only glanced at it, I swear. I didn’t put your number in my phone or anything.”
“You didn’t?”
Finn wasn’t sure if she sounded wary or disappointed.
“No. I mean, I was about to, but then I saw you punch dude over there into another dimension and I kinda got distracted.”
Finn smiled nervously but the woman still looked skeptical.
“Sorry, this was a total misunderstanding,” he said earnestly, hoping to believe it himself. “When you disappeared for a minute and the guy came over with your info, I thought it was because you were too shy to approach me and you two planned it out that way. I didn’t realize he wasn’t telling the truth about you noticing me over here.”
The woman’s cheeks went even more pink. “I never said he wasn’t telling the truth, just that he didn’t have my permission to give you my phone number.”
“I – oh.”
“After all, I’m perfectly capable of introducing myself.”
“Oh,” repeated Finn, feeling his own face warming up. “So you really think I’m ‘tasty’?”
Her entire face went bright red. “I should have hit him harder.”
Finn winced. That might have required an ambulance and a trauma center visit.
“I’m Finn, by the way. Finn Rampart.” He stood up and held out his hand. Her grip was warm and firm. “Sorry again about all this … uh … I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”
“He gave you my number but didn’t tell you my name?”
“No, I’m sure he wrote it on there somewhere,” said Finn, gesturing at the bit of napkin. “But like I said, I only looked for a quick second.”
The woman picked up the napkin and studied the writing there for a moment. She shook her head.
“I don’t know what you would have been able to pick out of this chicken-scratch.”
Turning away, she balled the paper up and threw it into a nearby trashcan. Finn felt a slight disappointment, but understanding won out. It hadn’t been right of dude to go behind her back like that.
He was stunned when she walked back over to him, opened her purse, and took out what looked like a business card.
“He could have just given you one of these. I know he has a few,” she said. “He’s such an idiot.”
Finn looked at the card that simply read Rey Skywalker, Owner/Operator D’Qar Forest Sky Tours. Underneath was a phone number.
“My cell’s on the back,” said Rey conversationally.
Dazed, Finn flipped it over and saw that indeed another phone number had been written in ink on the back. By the look of the ink, it had been written not long before.
He looked up at her. “Thanks for this, uh, Rey. But I thought you were mad that I got your number?”
She shook her head. “I was mad that he gave it to you without telling me. That doesn’t mean I didn’t want you to have it. I was planning on slipping you that card before I left.”
Rey turned away, but looked back. “And yes, I did say you were ‘tasty.’ Nice meeting you, Finn. Give me a call if you want to talk sometime.”
He watched her collect her things from her table without looking at the bloodied heap that was still slouched in the chair and walk out without a backward glance. It took the guy a few minutes, but he eventually managed to get himself together enough to follow suit.
Finn looked down at the card in awe. In another moment, both numbers were in his phone.
Much later, when they told their friends how they’d met, Finn and Rey were able to laugh about the whole incident. But, perhaps not surprisingly, Ben Solo, whose nose needed to be set in a splint for the better part of six weeks, never quite found the story to be very humorous.