After the ride we park our bikes at our coffee spot and grab a couple stools that overlook the river. “So tell me the latest and greatest Ozzie-ism,” I say.
“Oh, this one’s a doozy,” she says, with a dark chuckle. Then she pushes up her sunglasses and her eyes go wide as she looks over my shoulder. “Holy…I shit you not,” she breathes. “Ellis is here.”
Of course he is. I turn, and my gaze lands on him immediately—standing in line. With Daniel. Both are in dirty carpenter pants, T-shirts, and baseball caps. They look sweaty. And handsome.
Nothing about this is going to be easy, I guess. “He’s with Daniel.” My voice is equally low. Pained.
Marcella gasps and turns so dramatically that other people look where she’s looking. There is absolutely no way I am leaving this interaction with even a scrap of dignity intact.
“Holyyyyyshit. That’s him?” Her voice is no longer quiet, her jaw practically scraping the floor. “Happy birthday toyou.”
“An embarrassment of riches, I am aware,” I say with a suppressed laugh at her expression.
Daniel glances over then does a double take. He waves.
Shit. I wave back with a smile and try to look relaxed when Ellis turns as well. Our eyes meet and his smile is tight. After they order, they walk over to us.
“Hey,” Daniel says with a grin.
“Hi, guys,” I say, trying to avoid looking at Ellis again.
“Hey, Cassia. Marcella,” Ellis says, comfortable like he always is.
“Hi, Ellis,” she says with so much chipperness that I try not to wince. “Lovely day for rolling around in the dirt, it seems?”
They laugh. Daniel says, “We’re doing a site visit because a bunch of our plants and trees were just installed. Helping out a bit with watering and all that.”
“How’s it going?” I ask, trying my damnedest to act normal.
“Good, good,” Daniel says, quickly. He throws a little glance between me and Ellis, and I know that he knows. Then he holds his hand out to Marcella. “Hello, I’m Daniel.”
“Marcella, nice to meet you.” She smiles at him like he’s handed her a million dollars.
Ellis does a quick visual sweep over me—head to toe. I’m in very utilitarian yellow Patagonia baggy shorts and a white ribbed tank, but I flush under his gaze. Then he says, “Not too traumatized for this ride, again?”
I can’t help but smile. “Still traumatized but somehow back in the saddle.”
He nods, not following my playful tone. “Great. I’m glad you’re healed.”
Marcella makes a sound next to me that sounds too much like an “aw,” and I resist elbowing her. Daniel looks at me curiously. “Were you hurt?”
“Yeah, a few weeks ago I had a fall off my bike. That’s how I met Ellis, actually.” My eyes flit over to him and he’s suddenly busy looking at the menu on the board. “He called for help and kept me calm.”
There’s an awkward pause and then their drinks are called out, thank god. Marcella gives me alook,and I have no idea what she’s trying to relay to me. When they’re both out of earshot, she leans over and whispers, “Hey, shouldn’t you do the thing?”
“What thing?” I whisper back, so flustered by this entire situation that I’ve shredded my napkin into smithereens.
“Halmoni told me about Operation Meet-Cute. You need to ask Daniel—”
But they’re walking back and she slams her mouth shut with a panicked smile.
“There’s the restoration section we’re in charge of,” Daniel says, pointing to the river where orange cones and tape set off a large patch of concrete and greenery. “Hopefully, in a few weeks, there will be a nice walkable path and park that you can hang out in after popping in here for a coffee.”
“That’ll be so nice,” Marcella says. “The L.A. River has always been depressing af. When I first moved here, I couldn’t believe that trickle was considered a river.”
“Where are you from?” Ellis asks.
“Minnesota,” Marcella answers. “Land of a billion lakes.”
