While the two spoke jovially in Spanish (well, besides Miguel's momentary inflection of worry--what was that about?) Lottie tried to place how she knew Jack. It was on the tip of her tongue, a synapse away, but she couldn't grasp it. Letting out a breath of air, she let the feeling go and returned her attention to the boys. She felt like she was following a tennis match, the way she was trying to grasp at the subject of the conversation. When Jack turned his eyes on her, she smiled and shook his hand.
"You felt that too?" she asked, biting her lip, the feeling sparked again. Damn it all to hell, how did she know him? "Hats... hats... hm..." Her brow furrowed, trying to think of how he could be related to hats. It didn't make sense... Lottie wasn't a hat person, she didn't own hats, she didn't even sell them back in Albuquerque.
Ding ding ding.
"Oh my God," she exclaimed dramatically, her face paling slightly at the recognition. "You're the HAT guy!" She put her hands to her face and shook her head. What a small, small, small world.
Before she could elaborate, the mention of Miguel and a wife and a daughter in the same sentence through her off. "You're married, Miguel?" she looked at him incredulously. "No way!" It was said with shock, and while yes, she was shocked, she was also sad. Yet another good one already claimed. "You have a daughter too?" she smiled warmly. Okay, now that was cute.