Page 54 of When Sparks Fly

I second this motion.

I chew my bottom lip. Another day with my besties is never a bad thing, and after my conversation with Izzy yesterday, it could be the perfect time to see what’s up with Leah.

Orders from the Halloween mini sessions and my two family shoots last week are trickling in. I decide to complete the orders I have today and use dinner with the girls as a reward. Plus, it will be the perfect time for Izzy and me to check in on Leah.

Me:

Taco Shack at 6?

Leah:

(three high five emojis)

Izzy:

It’s a date.

Me:

Speaking of dates. I have oneto tell you about.

A welcomed breeze blows through my hair as I shut the door of my Jeep. Leah and I lock eyes across the parking lot of our favorite taqueria on Main Street. She’s selected a table on the patio and calls out, “Taco Tuesdayyy!” from her chair, waving her half-full margarita at me.

“Be right there!” I shout back with a grin, before hurrying through the heavy glass door at the front of the building. The scent of homemade tortillas, salsa, and fajitas washes over me as I soak in the soothing familiarity. Behind the peeling Formica countertop stands a beautiful teenage girl with jet black hair and eyes. She wears a bored expression.

I don’t let her lack of enthusiasm dampen my mood. It wasn’t long ago that I was sixteen and hated a job in the service industry. Instead, I smile brightly, rattling off my order.

Behind the cashier, someone presses a service bell and places a large paper bag of takeout in the window separating the kitchen area from the checkout area.

The girl swipes my card without acknowledging her co-worker or the food, then hands me a plastic number on a placard and my card wrapped in a too-long receipt. Herthanksis half-hearted at best.

On the patio, Leah is texting when I slide into the seat beside her. Two foil wrappers are smashed into tiny misshapen balls on the table and her margarita glass is nearing empty.

“We said six,” I tell her, raising my eyebrows because it’s only a couple minutes past the hour.

Leah sets her phone aside. “Yeah, I know.” A gust of wind blowing through the covered patio sweeps her dark hair out behind her. The foil balls rattle in the grated table, but go no further. “I was starving!” Leah drops her chin indignantly.

I shake my head, unsurprised. “Where’s Izzy?”

“I’m here, I’m here,” Izzy says, pushing open the glass door. She’s still in scrubs and her ice blonde hair is pulled up in a beautifully curled ponytail. One section of hair is intricately braided starting above her temple and wraps around the hair tie. “Sorry—” Her trendy bag gets tossed into the fourth chair at our table as she sits next to me. “My last cleaning was the sweetest little boy who was terrified, so I took some extra time with him.”

“Well, as usual, Leah couldn’t wait for us.” I’m joking, but Izzy and I cross our arms in unison, pinning Leah with hard stares.

She shrugs. “If it makes you feel better, I’m happy to order another round of tacos.”

“This little piggy went to market,” Izzy says with a loving laugh. Leah grins back.

The cashier pushes open the patio door and sets a tray of tacos between Izzy and I.

“Thanks!” I call at her retreating backside. “How did she manage both of ours at once?”

“I pointed you out when I ordered,” Izzy says matter-of-factly. Because, of course she did.

“I’m going in for another round. Need anything?” Leah stands abruptly and looks between Izzy and me. Our eyes lock.

Leah’s eyes flit between us when I turn back to her. “Maybe you could wait?”

She furrows her brows. “I’m just running in real quick. You can tell us about your date when I get back.”

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