“Holy Macaroni,” I blurt out, my hands flying to my mouth too late. I gave Mr. Franklin the banner on my last day of work before I headed off to Abbott College in North Carolina. “Who exactly are you, Hunter Farro?” I tease.
“I’m just a guy who pays attention.” He states it as if it's not a big deal. There are so few guys out there pay attention. That go through life as if the world needs to cater to them, unaware of the impact their actions have on others let alone taking a moment to notice others. “So, I ask again and for the last time. Do you want me to join you for the wedding?”
I feel the pull on my lips, happiness just a smile away. “Yes. Yes. Hunter Farro will you be my fake date to my friend’s wedding?”
The gleam in his eyes bring me joy. A real joy that I quickly tell my heart to reclassify. It’s one fake date and then I’m back on a plane to my true home in Indiana. “I’d be honored but I do have a question for you?”
I purse my lips and brace myself, for what I’m not sure.
“I wasn’t lying when I said I had a lunch reservation. I’d love to have you join me. It’ll give us a chance to compare notes and get to know each other.”
I nod. It makes sense. He may be a deductive mastermind, but I know next to nothing about him. Mesa is still a small town and I’m sure by now Palmer is already spreading the word about Hunter. We have so much to cover and less than two days to get our act together.
I stare into the hopeful eyes of the stranger that saved me today and say the words that will change this trip home forever, “It’s a date.”