Page 15 of The Little Black Book

“I’ll ask her out for lunch. Something casual with zero expectations. That’ll give me a chance to see if there’s still a spark without the added pressure of calling it a date.”

I nod thoughtfully. “I like it.”

“What days work for you? I know you usually close down at noon, but I don’t want to make you rush out if you’re busy.”

“Any day is fine. Zeke likes to close everything down and clean while I balance the register and do the paperwork. That stuff can wait until after lunch, if need be.”

My mouth falls open on a wide yawn, and I quickly cover it with my hand. I give Sam an apologetic smile, but it does little to ease his concerned expression.

“Do you need to go home? I know you have to get up early,” he says.

“No, it’s okay,” I say, shaking my head. “Zeke offered to open by himself in the morning when I told him I was going out tonight. I guess my full belly is just catching up with me.”

I push my ice cream toward him with a sigh, and he snatches it up gleefully and digs in. I roll my eyes at his exaggerated groans of delight, then laugh when he sets the empty cup down and leans back in his chair and pats his belly.

Taking a deep breath, he heaves himself upright and plucks his phone from the table. He checks the time, then moves his gaze back to me.

“Well, it’s still early,” he says. “If you’re not eager to get home, do you want to do something?”

“Sure. What do you have in mind?”

“We could go to Fremont Street and ride the zipline. Jared said it’s a blast.”

I grin, remembering Sophie telling me about her day of playing hooky with Jared and doing all the fun Vegas things they could think of. Then my smile drops as Sam’s words play over again in my mind.

“Are you telling me you’ve never done it?” I ask, my eyebrows arching high.

“I haven’t, no,” he admits.

“Haven’t you lived in Vegas your whole life?”

“Yes,” he says. “I just never really felt like trying it.”

“Are you scared of heights?” I ask, cocking my head.

“I’m not scared of anything, woman,” he shoots back, puffing up his chest.

“Except spiders,” I say, giving him a knowing look.

“That was one time, and it startled me,” he argues.

I laugh, remembering that night clearly. We’d just had dinner with Sophie, Jared, and Ava at the casino, and Sam offered to walk me to my car. The second we stepped outside, a giant wolf spider scampered out of the shadows and headed right for Sam’s foot. He stumbled back, a high-pitched squeal erupting from him as he hopped from foot to foot until the spider ran past him and scurried away.

“Anyway,” he says, his voice deep and impatient, “do you want to go fly down Fremont or not?”

“Sure,” I say, grinning. “Let’s do it.”

* * *

“That was exhilarating.”

Sam wraps his arms around my waist with those words, then picks me up and swings me around in a circle. I squeal with delight, and he sets me back on my feet, holding me close for a moment before releasing me.

“Do you want to go again?” he asks, looking at me with those big blue puppy dog eyes.

“I think I’m good with one ride,” I say checking the time on my phone. “Shit, is it really eleven-thirty?”

“Does Cinderella need to be home by midnight? Please tell me you’re about to turn into a pumpkin,” he says in a pleading voice, nudging his shoulder against mine.

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