Page 16 of Beyond Question

The red and yellow lighting comes from an assortment of fixtures placed around the space at the base of the walls, with strobe lighting in two of the four corners. Along the far wall, massive metal rolling doors have been pulled open.

Food trucks have driven into the warehouse and parked in such a way to form a wide circle around an arrangement of tables and chairs in the center of the room. According to my lifesaver of an assistant, this pop-up is a new concept created by a local chef to showcase up and comers in the food truck scene. I was wary of both the concept itself and bringing Paige here, but looking around now, I think it might actually work.

And she’s smiling as she takes it all in, so I’ll count this as a win.

The hostess pulls out our chairs and I wait for Paige to sit, then follow. “Have you two been here before?”

We shake our heads in unison, and the hostess smiles. “It’s quite simple.” She steps back and waves her arms toward the food trucks surrounding us. “Anything you’d like to try is yours to try, just head to your truck of choice and order.” She flashes a grin. “You may have as many tastings as you’d like, no limit. Gratuities for the chefs and staff were included with your prepaid experience, but alcohol is an additional cost.” She motions toward a bar along the far side wall, then leaves us to it.

“So?” I glance around at the nearest trucks, then focus on Paige. “What’s your favorite kind of food?”

“You paid in advance?”

“Tacos? Empanadas?” I begin reading off the trucks as I scan the room. “Maybe ramen—”

“Travis.”

“Paige.” I return my gaze to hers. “Less talking, more eating.”

“I can pay for myself.”

“I don’t doubt that.” I make a mental note to addpicking up the tabto her list ofantiquated ideals.

Paige shakes her head, but before she can give me any additional grief, something catches her eyes and a smile tugs at the edges of her lips. “Churros.”

My eyebrows creep up my forehead. “Don’t you want dinner first?”

Rising to her feet, Paige reaches for my arm, tugging at me until I stand with her. When I do, the smile that lights her face nearly knocks me back onto my ass. “Life is short, Travis; eat dessert first.”

Chapter Seven

Paige

Chicken and pork samosas from the Indian food truck. √

Tofu spring rolls from the Vietnamese fusion truck. √

Vegan fish and chips with mushy peas. √

An unfortunate mashup of a birria taco and an egg roll that neither of us finished. The concept was there, but the execution left much to be desired. √

And, of course, we started the meal by sharing an assortment of churros stuffed with Nutella, Bavarian cream, cinnamon cream, and one peanut butter and jelly delight that was better than I expected.

Check, check, and double check.

We’re filled to the brim and haven’t even visited all the trucks.

But there’s no way we’re getting even one more bite of food into these bodies, so we’ve settled into the last two available seats at a long bar that stretches all the way along the wall opposite the large metal rolling doors. The seats face outward toward the circle of food trucks and the tables within, so as we sip our drinks and share amicable silence, we watch the scene before us.

I’ve always enjoyed people-watching, especially in a city like this one, but there’s something extra special about the way we all light up around a good meal—and that’s exactly what this place provides. Everyone is so animated and happy here; the energy is hard to ignore.

My stomach makes an unflattering grumble and I laugh as I glance at Travis beside me, but he either didn’t hear the noise orhe’s ignoring it like the gentleman he seems to be. “I can’t believe how much we just ate.”

Travis laughs, nudging me with his shoulder. “Oh, I don’t know, I think I could have gone another round.”

“Right. Where would you have put it?”

He pats his stomach proudly. “You’d be surprised.”

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