Her eyes drift from me, to the stack of files on her desk, and back to me again. I don’t know if her hesitance is because she thinks I’m still only trying to get in her panties, or if she’s still holding my past against me, but I need to help her get over that. I need to help her see me as a new person.
She’s right in that we weren’t really friends back then, but I wasn’t lying to her when I told her that was a regret I carried. Another regret is allowing her to believe I was only interested in what’s between her legs, as opposed to her as a person. I know the fact that she believed that is a failing on my part.
“Okay, but it’s just lunch,” she tells me. “I only have an hour.”
“Fair enough,” I smile. “I’ll even let you pick the place.”
She glances at her watch. “Give me fifteen minutes to wrap up a couple of things here, and I’ll meet you downstairs in the lobby.”
I’m about to protest and tell her I can wait here, but she’s got her serious face, on so I don’t want to push things. It was like pulling teeth to get her to agree to lunch in the first place, so I get to my feet, not wanting to give her a reason to back out.
“Okay, I’ll meet you downstairs,” I agree.
“See you in a few.”
Twenty minutes later, I’m standing in the lobby checking my phone when I feel her step up beside me. I look down and flash her a smile.
“Ready?” I ask.
“I get to pick the place, right?”
“Absolutely.”
“Great,” she says. “Let’s go.”
For being so much shorter than I am, she moves quickly. I have to hurry to keep up at first. But since my stride is naturally longer than hers, I’m able to keep pace pretty easily. Rather than head for the parking structure or the curb to hail a cab though, she leads me to a small promenade between the buildings, where I see some food trucks parked. I cast her a sidelong glance, and she smiles.
“What?” she chirps. “You said it’s my choice.”
“I suppose I did,” I say slowly. “Well, lead on then.”
I follow her over to a truck called Kung Food – a truck that apparently serves a Korean-American fusion menu. We stand in front of the window as I look at their list of offerings, completely dumbfounded.
“You’ve never eaten off a food truck before, have you?”
I look down and see a wide, mischievous smile on her face like she’s getting one over on me or something. Truth is, I haven’t eaten off a food truck before. I usually prefer my meals to come from someplace more – sanitary. I don’t think they got the name, ‘Roach Coach’ for no reason.
“I can’t say it would be my first choice,” I laugh. “But, I’m game to try.”
“Working in the PD’s office, you learn to appreciate the expediency of the food trucks,” she says.
“Great,” I say. “This should be different.”
“Don’t be such a prissy elitist,” she shakes her head and laughs. “What will you have?”
“I’ll leave my gastrointestinal fate to you.”
She gives me a devious grin and steps to the truck to order, chatting amiably with the guys working inside. Indeed, they talk like old friends, and I can see that Berlin just inspires an ease and warmth in people I’ve never been able to master. I hand over the money, and a moment later, we get our food and drinks, then find a vacant table. Using a couple of the napkins to wipe down the surface before we sit down. Berlin looks at me and smirks.
“What?” I ask. “Is preferring a clean eating area a crime?”
She shakes her head. “No, no, of course not,” she grins. “I appreciate fastidiousness in a man.”
I take a seat across from her, a leonine grin on my face. “Oh? And what else do you appreciate in a man?”
She quirks an eyebrow at me but refuses to take the bait. Instead, she digs into her lunch, a bowl of rice topped with Korean short rib bulgogi and cabbage with kimchi on the side. I have to admit, it’s something I’ve never had before, but it smells pretty amazing. I pick up something I’m more familiar with – a crispy egg roll – and take a bite. Berlin is stealing glances at me, so I finally oblige her by picking up my fork and taking a bite of my own bulgogi bowl. The explosion of flavor in my mouth is intense. I can’t keep the smile off my lips as I chew. I glance over at Berlin, who is giving me a haughty expression that just screams, I told you so.
“Fine, I was wrong,” I laugh. “That’s what you want to hear, right?”
She shrugs. “That will do.”
“I’m still not saying it’s the most sanitary thing ever,” I add, “but the flavor is pretty damn amazing.”
“I’ll take the win, thanks.”
We eat happily in what I can only describe as a companionable silence for a bit, the earlier tension and sense of distrust – from her of course – seemingly vanished in the aroma of surprisingly good food.
But I know these unexpected good vibes between us are temporary. Looming on the horizon, like a wall of storm clouds moving into the area and ready to unleash the fury of an Atlantic storm, is what I have to talk to her about.
There’s no getting around it or putting it off any longer. It’s time for me to man up and lay it all out there – come what may.
Chapter Nine Berlin
I told him I only have an hour for lunch, but the truth is that I’m not sitting on a clock other than my own. If I want to take a bit longer, I can. I just didn’t want Sawyer thinking my entire day revolves around him. I mean, since he feels like he can just drop
