Page 91 of Ice Ice Maybe
Tyson glanced at his watch and winced. “Speaking of work, I’ve got to jet. Deadlines wait for nobody, especially when we’re giving away seventeen thousand holographic trading cards at the next game.”
“You’ve barely been here fifteen minutes!” I protested.
“Quality over quantity, my friend,” Tyson said, standing up. “Besides, you know I came for the free coffee.”
I rolled my eyes. “Always using me for my caffeine connections.” We shared another quick hug, then I asked, “Still on for Lucha Libre tomorrow?”
“You bet,” Tyson replied. “Noon sharp. Back to the scene of the crime! Too bad Zena can’t join us. It would be fun to hang out with her.”
“Yeah, she’s got plans with a friend, but some other time, for sure,” I said casually, hiding my smirk. Little did Tyson know about the secret set-up with Jing we had planned at the taco shop.
As Tyson disappeared into the crowd downtown, I strolled back along the Embarcadero to my car. A flutter of excitement danced in my stomach as I contemplated tomorrow’s lunch. Playing Cupid was definitely outside my comfort zone, but hey, if lightning could strike twice, who was I to stand in its way?
I returned home after running errands, barely having time to catch my breath before the doorbell chimed. As I swung the door open, my jaw nearly hit the floor. There stood Zena, a vision in a black cocktail dress that hugged her curves like it was custom made by the gods themselves. The dress was elegant yet sexy, but it was her smile that truly took my breath away, lighting up her face like a supernova.
Before I could regain my composure or warn her I forgot to tell her about my parents’ casual dress code, Zena launched herself at me. Her lips found mine in a kiss that was equal parts passion and sweetness, effectively short-circuiting whatever remaining brain function I had left. As I held her close, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her perfume, a small part of my mind wondered how on earth I’d gotten so lucky.
I laughed as we broke apart. “You know, I’d be perfectly okay with you going back outside and doing that again.”
Zena grinned. “Later. I’m dying to meet your parents.” She stepped inside, then sniffed the air curiously. “Is that dill pickle I smell?”
It sure seemed like it, but before I could answer, my parents appeared.
“There she is!” Mom exclaimed, hugging Zena warmly. “I’m Vivian, and this is Rowan.”
Dad followed with his own hug. “Pleased to meet you.”
Zena blushed. “You, too.”
She glanced at my parents’ casual attire. Their “young at heart” style was on full display, ripped jeans that looked more hole than denim, paired with faded band t-shirts that might have been cool when dinosaurs roamed the Earth.
“I’m way overdressed,” Zena added.
“Nonsense! You are perfect just the way you are.” Mom stepped back, beaming. “Oh my, you’re gorgeous! The TV doesn’t do you justice at all. Come in! I’ve prepared something special. Nolan told me you like sushi.”
Zena’s eyes lit up. “I love sushi.”
I nearly choked on my saliva. Sushi? I couldn’t remember Mom ever making sushi in her life. Why didn’t she opt for something simple, like pasta or baked potatoes? This was going to be very interesting, to say the least. Or a disaster…
“Oh, you’re in for such a treat,” Mom beamed.
Mario Le Meow sauntered into the room.
Zena melted at the sight of him. “Oh. My. Goodness.” She picked him up, and Mario immediately purred.
“No surprise he showed up at the mention of sushi,” I joked. “He loves seafood.”
Mom waved dismissively. “Oh, it’s not that kind of sushi.”
What was she talking about? What kind of sushi was it? A wave of terror washed over me, trying to imagine what she had been working on in the kitchen and if it was actually edible.
“Dinner is almost ready—I need a few more minutes,” Mom added. “Rowan, could you open a bottle of wine?”
“Of course,” he said.
As Mom and Dad disappeared to finish preparations, Zena turned to me, obviously noticing that I was a little tense.
“Relax,” she whispered, setting Mario Le Meow back on the floor. “Your parents are adorable.”
