Page 15 of Sparks Fly
The ride was mostly quiet as Max struggled to figure out what to say. He wasn’t mad about Cherry disappearing on him last night. It wasn’t like they were on a date and she’d gotten up from the table and walked out. They’d been in a sex club, and technically they did have sex. Besides, it had taken him way too long to come back. He could own that.
He’d just thought that he felt a connection with her that was strong enough that she would’ve waited a bit longer for him. Or at least leave him a note with her number.
Max truly thought he may never see her again, and it hadn’t really hit him until she was right in front of him now how much he hoped that wouldn’t be the case. He glanced over to her now and watched her as she watched the city pass by through her window, resisting the urge to reach over and take her hand in his.
He looked away, turning his attention to his phone, which was flooding with emails, both about typical work things like meetings and networking events and with questions and concerns about the Yellow Sparks project. Max could feel his frustration with Miles building, and they’d only barely begun working together.
Not only was Miles clearly unprepared to handle backlash from his team, but he also threw the responsibility of talking to his employees about it onto Max and his staff. While yes, Max had offered to hold office hours to help the Yellow Sparks team get acquainted with the new tech, he was sure those hours would now be spent fielding angry questions about what the introduction of Sparky means for the company—questions that neither Max nor his team should be answering.
If it wasn’t for the fact that Max wanted to talk to Cherry, he would’ve stayed and reamed out Miles for the whole thing, but after being practically dragged from the office, Max had made up some excuse for needing to double back and told Miles he’d call him later.
When they reached the restaurant, Max hopped out to get the door for Cherry, but she was already stepping out of the car, so he stepped back, letting her pass, and then closed the door behind her.
“Oh, thanks.”
“No problem,” Max said. “Shall we?”
Cherry nodded and seemed to relax as he guided her to the entrance of Qi.
The place didn’t look big at first glance because it was narrow, but it stretched back quite far, with two long rows of tables behind the hostess stand until you reached thebathrooms and kitchen in the back. Qi was already set up for dinner, with low lighting and candles burning at each table, and it was almost packed. Chatter filled the room along with the sound of soft instrumental music.
“Table for two?” the hostess asked.
Max nodded, and they were led to one of the last few tables available, right in the middle of the room.
“Your server will come around soon with water,” the hostess said after they were seated before quickly stepping away.
Across from him, Cherry grabbed the menu, opening it without a word. Max didn’t know why he was so nervous, but he was. Maybe it was because the last time they were together they didn’t do much talking.
“What do you usually get here?”
Max startled at Cherry’s question. She was looking at him, her head slightly tilted as she waited for him to answer.
“Oh, um, the drunken noodles with beef,” he said without opening the menu. He’d come here enough times that he had it practically memorized.
Cherry nodded. “That looks good, I’ll get that, too.”
“It’s spicy,” he warned.
Cherry quirked a brow as if to say, “And?”
Max put up his hands. “I’m just saying, some people can’t handle it.”
“Both of my parents are from the islands,” she said. “I can handle spice.”
This made Max lean forward in his chair.
“Really? Which ones?”
“Mom’s from Cuba, and Dad’s from Jamaica,” Cherry said, closing her menu. “And before you ask, no, I cannot speakSpanish because my mom unfortunately didn’t teach me. I can understand it mostly, but I’m not fluent. If Spanish classes didn’t cost so much I’d be doing that, but for now it’s just Duolingo and YouTube videos for me.”
“I get it,” Max said. “I’m Dominican, but I was adopted by white parents who didn’t speak Spanish. They tried their best to learn and help us, but I’ve definitely lost a lot of it, and Miles was even younger than me when we were adopted, so he doesn’t have much at all.”
At the mention of Miles, Cherry tensed up, and Max wanted to hit himself for ruining what was beginning to feel like a solid flow between the two of them. Thankfully, their waitress arrived, breaking up the tension as she poured them water and then took their order. By the time the waitress walked away, Cherry seemed to have relaxed a bit, although Max could tell she was still thinking about what happened today.
“I know I said we could talk about AIX here, but we don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Max said.
“What do you mean?” Cherry asked.
