Page 41 of Love Is…?

The question hung in the air, unanswered, as a text alert pinged from Tessa’s phone, and she flipped it over. The rectangle floating on her screen held the first few words of Jayde’s message.

Hi. Can I…

Tessa glanced at Angel,wiggled her phone, and received a ‘go ahead’ hand flap in return.

Tessa swiped into the message.

Can I call you?

She blinked.

Sure.

“Jayde?”Angel pointed at the phone.

“How did you know that?”

Angel tilted her head and delivered a withering look. “Seriously? You smiled like a goof and your bones dissolved.”

Tessa didn’t get to deliver the full effect of her glare, because her phone rang.

“Hi.” Tessa checked for dissolving bones. Nope. She was fine.

“Hi. How’s your day been?” Jayde’s voice skated across Tessa’s skin and she shivered.

Angel whispered, “Bones,” and absorbed another glare, then continued eating her chaotic meal. Tessa stood from the couch and stomped into the kitchen.

“My day was great, thanks. Yours?”

“Awesome, actually. More interviews. More good material.” Jayde inhaled. “So, our dinner on next Wednesday night…”

Tessa smiled. “Yes?”

“Romantic dinners, particularly the ones in your curriculum, probably follow certain rules.”

“What rules?”

“Such as the one where the person inviting the other person to dinner picks up that person from their house, and the rule where the person inviting chooses the restaurant.”

“Those are rules?” Tessa wrinkled her brow.

“Absolutely. I’ve been studying. Can’t you tell?”

Tessa laughed at the earnest tone in Jayde’s voice. “What an excellent student you are,” she replied, injecting a flirty note, which she only realised she’d done after hearing Angel’s snort from the lounge.

“So, I’d like to pick you up next Wednesday night. At seven?” The hesitancy was adorable. Jayde, all confidence, and windblown hair like she was followed about by a lackey employed to direct a giant fan, was gently nervous. Then a thought occurred to Tessa.

“Jayde, you don’t have a car.”

“That is absolutely not a problem at all, mentor of mine. There are trams.”

Shivering deliciously at the ‘mine’ label, Tessa hummed.

“Trams.”

“Yes. One, specifically. We won’t be orienteering on public transport, that’s for sure. The number fifty-four runs right past your apartment and as luck would have it, the restaurant I have chosen is four stops along the same route. So, thirty minutes of travel. It’s kismet.”

Tessa laughed. “Kismet? Okay, then. Seven next Wednesday. What’s the dress code?”

---