Page 14 of Clean Out of Luck

SCARLETT

No.

I don’t see any more texts because I have to head into court and start typing a transcript.It’s an interesting theft case and it keeps me distracted the rest of the afternoon.

The second my workday ends, I swipe on some lip plumper and hurry out of the courthouse.

I climb on my bike and put on my pink helmet with daisies. I’m glad I have my hair straightened for tonight. I’m not going to be smashing a perfectly good hairdo.

It takes me about ten minutes to bike to the Mexican restaurant I suggested to my date. He asked if I wanted him to pick me up, but this is only our second date, and I don’t think this is the time to tell him I don’t like cars. That’s a conversation for a sixth date, maybe. I’ve never made it that far with anyone.

I lock my bike to the bike rack. This restaurant is one of my favorites because they have a good bike parking spot where I can lock it. And I may or may not be a regular here. Because, hello, the food is delicious.

I walk inside, and Victor Ramirez, the owner, greets me with a smile. “Did you call in an order?”

“No,” I say. “I am actually here to meet a date this time.”

His face falls, and he shakes his head. “I remember what happened last time.”

I grimace because he’s not wrong. The last time I tried to have a date here, my brother Phoenix happened to be here on a date as well. He essentially crashed my date and proceeded to interrogate the guy I was with, and eventually, both of our dates left together. We sat there and glared at each other while we made ourselves sick, eating mountains of chips and salsa. I still haven’t forgiven him for that one. The date had seemed like a decent enough guy, until Phoenix ran him off.

My phone dings, and I glance down to see a new text. And it’s not from my date.

WADE

At least tell me the guy’s name.

SCARLETT

What is with you? You’ve been hanging out with my brother too much. Good night. We’ll catch up over some cereal soon.

I look around the large, open dining area and spot Allen sitting in a corner booth. He waves when he sees me, and I point him out to Victor. “See? That’s my date.”

Victor frowns when he spots him. “Really? You could do better than him.”

“Listen, I’ve had to jump through hoops—figurative ones—and ride my bike here.” I glare at him. It’s like Big-Brother-itis is catching. “I’m going to join my date.”

He nods slowly and smiles as if he’s trying to placate me. “If you don’t like him, just let me know, and I’ll get rid of him for you.”

I smile because it really is very sweet of him to look out for me. I wink and say, “I’ll give you the secret signal.”

“You’ll ask for the extra spicy salsa,” he says with a grin.

I fight a laugh because it’s true—my taste buds were not raised on spice. It’s a rather new flavor to my palate.

I was raised in more of a meat-and-potatoes family. Spice of any kind was not to be found in our house. Barbecue sauce was a bit too much for me, so spicy salsa is definitely the next level.

I’m working my way up. I have now graduated from the mild salsa to the medium, and Victor is so proud of me. I do have my suspicions that he’s slowly sneaking more spice into my favorite burrito here. But it’s still delicious. Maybe someday I’ll grow up and be able to handle the hot salsa.

Victor leads me to the table, and I sit down across from Allen.

“Hi again,” he says with a smile.

“Hey,” I say as I set down my purse on the booth seat beside me.

Victor brings me my regular glass of horchata. Allen frowns as he watches him walk away.

“That was strange. He didn’t even ask what you wanted.”

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