Page 75 of Digging Up Love
A man wearing rolled-up khaki shorts and a muscle tank passed by, walking a terrier. He turned their way, and Simone fanned her fingers in a coy wave.
Alisha flicked her sister’s elbow. “Ross who?”
As she rubbed at her arm, Simone’s eyebrows twitched together. “You know, Rachel’s Ross. FromFriends. You do realize that dude was a paleontologist, right?”
“Oh my gosh.” Alisha’s mouth fell open.
“Girl.” Simone hung her head like Alisha was an embarrassment. “How did you not make the connection?”
“It’s been forever since we watchedFriends. Besides, you’re the one who made me sit through that show.”
“Because if it was up to you, we would’ve watchedBewitchedreruns every night.”
“I Love Lucy,” Alisha muttered.
“And you say you’re not a boomer.”
“Whatever. You’re just bitter my mind is more sophisticated than yours and didn’t immediately make the leap to pop culture when I met Quentin.”
“Oh, okay.” Simone crossed her arms, and the gold cuff on her wrist flashed in the sunlight. “You’re gonna stand there and tell me you and your minion Meg haven’t been droppingJurassic Parkreferences since he showed up?”
Tongue in her cheek, Alisha scowled. “I hate you so much.”
“Behold, my sister the meganerd.” Cackling, Simone struck a Vanna White pose. “But let’s circle back to the fact that my chronically single sister is actually dating someone—”
The door opened again, and a twentysomething guy with green highlights and black gauges in his ears came out, propping the glass door open with his back, menus in hand. “Blake, party of two?” He snapped his gum.
“That’s us.” Alisha was already halfway inside.
“We’re not finished, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Simone bopped Alisha’s butt with her clutch.
Swatting her away, Alisha hissed, “At least wait until we’re sitting down.”
Noisy chatter and the power duo of bacon and fresh coffee wafted over her. Her stomach growled.
Simone raised her voice above the din of silverware and conversation, turning sideways to edge past a table. “Why, so you can come up with ten excuses why you should’ve broken up with him already, before I found out?”
Alisha flinched. Her sister’s accusation hit too close to home. If Simone hadn’t gotten suspicious about her giddy grins over Quentin’s texts last night, they wouldn’t even be having this conversation.
But shockingly, talking about him didn’t make her want to cut and run. Instead, it was like her heart was a balloon, and telling her sister about Quentin had cut the string. Now she was free but also alarmingly untethered. Could she trust herself with him, with a relationship?
They slid into a shiny red booth, and the host placed menus in front of them, dragging the mini placard with the daily specials to the center of the table. “Your server will be right over,” he said, and whisked away.
“I would’ve told you,” said Alisha.
“You wouldn’t have.” Simone disappeared behind her menu.
“But I’m glad you know.” Alisha took off her purse and set it next to her against the wall.
Simone tipped her menu down. “Really?”
“Really.” Alisha bit the inside of her cheek. “Quentin is different. I think he’s the real deal.”
With an eye roll suited for a Broadway stage, Simone said, “Okay, cut the middle-aged slang. What is the ‘real deal’?”
Alisha wadded up a napkin and threw it toward her. “We spent like a whole month texting before any of this even started, and it always felt fresh and fun. When we talk, it’s like we’re the only two people in the world. I don’t know how to describe it. He just ... listens. Plus, he’s hilarious.” She paused, spinning her butter knife on the table with two fingers. “And, Simi, I think he really likes me.”
“Why is that surprising?” Simone scrolled through her phone. “He’s not the first guy to like you.”
