Page 83 of Phishing for Love
“Why haven’t I heard anything?”
“They’re only officially opening in a week’s time, but tonight they’re holding a soft opening at the far end of the park. It’s just friends and family on the list.”
“And you’re on the list?”
“The owner is a friend of mine.”
I fake a surprised face. “You have friends, Sinclair?”
He levels me a look. “You clearly want pizza tonight, Miller.”
I’m immediately contrite. “Ignore my runaway tongue.”
“Hard to do when it keeps making itself known.”
“I’ll try to keep it under control.”
It’s funny, two months ago I would have thought the last person to trade lighthearted banter with me would be Aaron Sinclair. I assumed that the man who first walked around our office with the same pained expression my uncle adopts when he experiences a bout of trapped gas wouldn’t want to indulge in teasing verbal swordplay. But he does. More so than Nathan, who doesn’t always get my snarky comments.
Aaron switches off the light to his office. “I happened to mention to my friend that Brown Oaks is in serious need of good Thai food.”
“Yes, we are,” I confirm, offering a vigorous nod. “In dire need.” I grab his upper arm, a part of my brain noting the muscles there. But the majority of my brain is too preoccupied with food right now. “I haven’t had Pad Thai in ages.”
He glances at my hand clutching his arm. “Nice nails.”
Well, well. Aaron is noticing my red nails and liking them. Who says people can’t change? “I’m glad you like my nails, but let’s go!” I plead on a groan.
He unleashes a full grin at my obvious excitement. I don’t care. There’s no way I’m playing it cool when Asian street food is involved. Now that he’s planted the seed, it’s all I can think about. My taste buds are already quivering in eagerness.
As we make our way to the elevator, Aaron says, “I have it on good authority they make their curry pastes from scratch.”
Saliva pools in my mouth. “I’m literally going to kill you and eat your body.”
“That hungry, are we?” he asks with a chuckle.
As he presses the elevator button, I think aloud. “What do I choose? Pad Thai or panang curry?”
I bite my lip, wracked by indecision. This feels like one of life’s more important choices.
“How about we share?” Aaron offers. “That way you can have a taste of both?”
I hesitate. “Actually, I was going to do takeout.”
A beat of silence passes.
Now I feel awful. Aaron’s invited me to a special event and I’m basically saying to him,Thanks for the invite, but I’m not sitting down with you. I’m just using you to get the food and then I’m leaving to eat at home.
The elevator doors open and we step inside.
“It’s just...” I clear my throat. “I think it would be better if I got the food to-go.”
His face takes on an unreadable look. “You think it would be awkward between us?”
“No, not awkward, but it doesn’t feel right.”
“We’ll be eating at a picnic table in an open park. We don’t have to make this something it isn’t.”
“I know.”
