Page 84 of The First Spark

“Not for you, she isn’t.”

Chapter 17

All Roads Lead to Her

Ash

Someone is not in a good mood.

I wait for a beat, assuming Mina will spill some additional details about her boss’s whereabouts, but she remains silent, her eyes narrowed in aggravation.

“Do you know where she is?”

Mina shrugs. “Yes.”

Okay, I’m done with this schoolyard game.

“Mina, where the hell is Ori?”

She rubs her brow, releasing a noisy sigh. “She went home.”

Now we’re getting somewhere. “Perfect. How about you give me her address and I’ll get out of your way. I’m sure you’re beat after the festival today.”

Yes, I throw in the last bit for effect, because I’ve never seen Mina so hostile toward me and I know I have done nothing to provoke her.

“She’s not going to that party, so you might as well head over there alone. Not that you’ll stay that wayfor long.” Mina mutters the last sentence through gritted teeth, and it hits me I’m in the doghouse.

For what, I’m not entirely sure.

But I’m getting a bit tired of Mina serving as a sentry to her boss.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I clear my throat and swallow back the biting comment on the tip of my tongue. “What the hell am I missing here?”

Mina pulls the door open and waves me inside. I trail her to the front counter, where she pulls out her phone and dials a number. “Ori? Ash would like to speak with you. Hang on.”

Then she thrusts the phone in my direction before walking to the back of the store.

“Thank you,” I call after her, a low chuckle rising from my chest. Seems Mina needs a drink more than I do. “Hey, Ori.”

“Hey yourself.”

Damn, I love this woman’s voice—the way it wraps around every syllable, leaving a cloud of sparks, just like her tongue left sparks on my skin. “About this party tonight?—”

But Ori doesn’t let me finish my statement. “Yeah, after thinking it over, I decided against going. But have a great time. Thanks for asking me to tag along.”

Her words, by themselves, are innocuous, but it’s the tone that puts me on edge—sharp and to the point, as that honeyed whisper quickly morphs into a serrated knife.

Determined to lighten the mood, I laugh. “Did you find something better to do?”

“Yes.”

That one word, that single syllable dismissing our plans, sends my temper into the danger zone.

“I thought we were hanging out tonight,” I reply, desperate to wrangle my anger.

“I changed my mind.”

What the hell? I pace the area near the counter, my steps falling heavy against the floor. “Were you planning on telling me this or just standing me up?”

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