Page 44 of Written in the Stars
Darcy’s jaw clenched, her chin lifting, eyes going hard, determined. “Look, Elle—”
An unholy grumble came from Darcy’s stomach, so loud and vicious that Elle’s eyes widened. Darcy’s face turned red, her eyes slipping shut, her lips rolling inward and flattening.
Elle’s fingers itched to trace the blush, feel the heat of Darcy’s cheeks against the pads of her fingertips. “Hungry?”
“Clearly.” Darcy snorted. “I should go before my stomach cannibalizes itself.”
“Sexy.” Elle leaned her shoulder against the wall and shiftedthe box of wine, her biceps beginning to burn. “Or you could stay. I’ve got—”
She performed a quick mental inventory of the contents of her fridge. Salsa. Juice. Freezer-burned breakfast sandwiches. “Or we could go out?”
Darcy’s lips twisted in genuine-looking remorse. “I can’t. I’ve got—”
“To eat, yeah? We could do that together.” When Darcy didn’t immediately fire back a no, Elle pressed on. “I could Instagram a picture of us there. Better than posting a picture of a boring box of wine. And I could brief you on Thanksgiving. Tell you what to expect.”
Darcy dropped her chin and chuckled. “I’m too hungry to cook.”
“Is that a yes?”
She nodded. “Sure. Why not?”
***
It was only four blocks to Katsu Burger, a little hole in the wall joint that served the best Japanese deep-fried burgers Elle had ever tasted. It wasn’t fancy by any stretch of the imagination, but the food was fantastic, inexpensive, the service was stellar, and it wasn’t too rowdy, a combination not easy to find on this part of Broadway.
Elle jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “You want to snag a table while I order for us?”
Darcy stared at the sprawling menu on the wall with rounded eyes. “I don’t have any idea what I want.”
“Just go sit down. I know what’s good.” Elle shooed her off. “Seriously. Trust me.”
“Nothing with dairy, all right?”
“Roger that.”
Inching her way toward the bank of empty tables, Darcy shot her one final wary glance that made Elle roll her eyes.
After placing their order, Elle wiggled her way through the maze of tables until she reached the one Darcy had claimed in the far back corner. She collapsed into the seat across from Darcy and performed a quick double take at the state of the table. “What the—”
The salt and pepper shakers, bottle of hot sauce, both bottles of soy sauce,andthe napkin holder had been moved toward the center of the table, dividing Darcy’s table space from Elle’s. Like a moat, only without the water.
Darcy smirked. “I happen to like this outfit.”
“What does that have to do with—” Oh.Oh. Her face heated, an undeniable blush creeping up her neck. “Oneaccident and you’re taking precautionary measures?”
“Twice,” Darcy argued. “You spilled in my kitchen, too.”
“Once is an instance, twice is merely a coincidence.Threetimes is a pattern.” Elle winced. “But I really am sorry about that. It was... ugh.” The shame of that moment returned, the memory of spilling first her glass of wine and then knocking the table and spilling Darcy’s wine as fresh as if it had just happened. Elle dropped her face into her hands and groaned. “Not a great first impression.”
“Not like mine was much better.” Elle lifted her head to find Darcy looking contrite, lips tugged to the side. “Hindsightmakes it seem trivial. It’s just— I was wearing my favorite dress. It belonged to my grandmother. So.”
Elle’s stomach plummeted. “Did it come out? The wine stain?”
Darcy lifted her eyes and offered a small smile. “It did. My dry cleaner is a miracle worker.”
Elle breathed a sigh of relief, shoulders slumping. Thank God.
“Two sake bombs?”
