“And if I have extra questions, is there a number I can call?”
I grab a pen and scribble my cell on the back of a care card and hand it to her. “Day or night.”
“Bold,” she says.
“Salty,” I reply.
The crinkles around her eyes deepen, and God help me, I’m in deeper than I thought.
3
Darby
A chalkboard of daily drink specials sits in front of the hostess stand advertising half-priced Tecate and five dollar margaritas. Strings of papel picado sag from the ceiling in colorful loops. Servers weave between tables with trays balanced on one hand, cast iron plates sizzling with the distinct scent of grilled onions and citrus.
By the time we’re escorted to a table, I’m ravenous. I slide into the booth beside Maggie who’s already snatched the drink card from the placeholder. The hostess slides a stack of laminated menus across the table.
“Your server will be with you shortly,” she says as another woman delivers baskets of chips, fresh salsa, and individual bowls to the table.
“I don’t care what anyone says,” Maggie announces. “If it has salt on the rim, it counts as hydration.”
Gabby snorts. “That’s not how science works.”
“Science is flexible,” Maggie counters.
Kari drops into the booth next to me. “I cannot believe you flirted with my client.”
I blink. “I absolutely did not flirt.”
Lola chokes on her water. Gabby pats her gently on the back as she sputters. “Oh, Honey.”
Maggie grins, still engrossed in the drink menu. “You flirted.”
“I asked horticulture-based questions,” I argue.
“You asked him how many roses equals sex,” Kari says, her voice a little higher than usual.
I lift a finger. “I rest my case. Very educational and extremely responsible.”
“We can’t take you anywhere,” Gabby mutters.
“I know, right?” I beam. “You’re all so lucky to have me, otherwise you’d be bored out of your mind.”
Lola rests her chin in her palm. “He was cute, though.”
Kari’s mouth twitches despite herself. “He was.”
She nudges me. Her way of calling a truce, though our friendship and her job was never in danger. If I’d thought for a minute she’d lose the account with Green with Envy over a little flirtatious question, I would have kept my trap shut.
“Correction,” Maggie says as she passes the drink menu to Lola. “He was hot, but if anyone tells Wade I said that, I will flat out deny it.”
We all laugh. My friends are loyal to their significant others, but it doesn’t mean they don’t admire the scenery.
“And a little stiff.” Her cheeks turn beet red. “I didn’t mean… I mean, he was a little firm… in his delivery. For crying out loud. You guys,” she finally says, frustrated.
We’re all giggling with laughter by the time she stops talking to take a sip of water.
“I think the words you're looking for are hot plant daddy,” Rumer snickers.
