Page 41 of Recipe for Rivals
The bubble ellipses popped up and went away so many times, I set my phone down and pinched a bite of meat from my slider. Hmm. A little heavy on the paprika and not enough onion.
My phone buzzed.
Nova
We’re a pancake family
Dusty
Apparently, no one has taught you how to make a good waffle. How sad for Ben and Alice
Nova
But not sad for me?
Dusty
I definitely pity you, but you’re old enough to know better.
Nova
You’re flattering today
Dusty
You want flattering? Say the word.
Heart pounding, I reached for another slider, vaguely aware of the conversation going on around me and the dwindling pile of little burgers on the table. That wasn’t flirting. It was tactful teasing. I teased everyone. There were no exceptions in this town.
Well, except for Ms. Corbin and Chad Lincoln. Mrs. Jefferson at the corner market terrified me, but I still teased her.
Was I trying to convince myself I hadn’t flirted? Maybe.
Gigi would slap my wrist.
Nova
My pancakes would win against your waffles any day
Dusty
Bring it on.
A call came in for an accident on the highway. We abandonedthe meal and left immediately, my phone going into my pocket. Regretfully.
I did my best to keep my attention on the matter at hand and off the phone sitting in my pocket for the duration of the call. I was usually pretty good at compartmentalizing, and when I was at work—especially out on a call—I tried to keep my life out of my head so it was clear enough to do my job. But Nova was different. She had gotten in my mind and taken her shoes off, stretching out on the sofa to stay a while.
Asofa. She didn’t have one, did she? Or a TV, now that I thought about it. Where did she wind down after a long day? Where did she put her feet up after being on them at the diner for hours? Forget a kitchen table. I needed to bring her a couch. Something weird sizzled in my chest, thinking about the dirtbag who let her drive across the country with so little. Did he even know the kind of place his kids were living in? It was clean but barren.
On further thought, Nova had a point—none of these things were necessities. That didn’t make me want to help her any less.
The only problem was getting her to accept it.
When we finished with the call, I pulled out my phone, gratified to find a message from her.
Nova
I wouldn’t want to shame you. I’m a professional, remember? Unfair fight