“Yeah. Let me make a quick phone call first.”
Mark stepped out of my office with his phone pressed to his ear, and I took his momentary distraction to check out how amazing his ass looked in his slacks. I tilted my head, staring at how the fabric was like an extension of his skin.
“Ahem.” Mark cleared his throat with his eyebrows raised. Since there was no point pretending I wasn’t looking, I snuck another peek, positive there was an extra pep in his step as he left.
“Sorry about that,” Mark said, pocketing his phone as he walked back in a minute later. I’d barely recovered from having him in such close proximity, wishing whoever he had to call had demanded a longwinded explanation.
“My mom’s been cat-sitting for Phoebe. I wanted to make sure she was good staying a while longer.”
“Oh. I’m sure you need to get back. I know it’s been a long day for you both.”
“She was in the middle of a show onLifetimeand wasn’t planning on leaving until it was over, anyway.”
“Let me guess, either Murder Mystery or Christmas in July.”
“Ha, yep. Murder Mystery all the way with her.”
“My dad’s the same way. We always tease him about how he should have been a detective.” We stared at each other for a long moment. “So, uh, do you know wherePho Ahnis? Off of Rüten Boulevard?”
“Sure, but I’m not familiar with Vietnamese food.” He held a small grin on his face.
“Oh, Mark. You’re in for a treat. I’m going to pop your Pho Cherry.”
I rubbed my hands together like an idiot, and Mark shook his head. “You’re not planning on ordering me anything weird, are you?”
“That depends on what you need to talk to me about, Mark. Give me five to wrap things up here, and I’ll meet you atPho Ahn.”
“Sounds good, Dr. Cutie. See you there soon.”
Mark gave me one last look and turned on his heel, walking out the back door. I went to switch off the security monitor but paused with my finger on the button. Before he got in his car, he turned around and waved, like he knew I’d be watching. When he finally shut his cruiser door, I switched off the monitor and took a deep breath.
I peeled off my scrubs and took out the spare pair of slouchy jeans and a T-shirt I had in my office closet to change into before heading out. I was eager for Mark to see me in something different, something that hugged my curves and showed a little cleavage.
Mark was waiting for me at a two-top by the window when I walked into the hole-in-the-wall restaurant tucked in a strip mall beside a used car lot. The booths were covered in worn red leather, and the flooring was a beige tile. I’d been coming here for years, and every time I opened the door, I remembered sitting in these same booths, studying for my degree, and drinking cup after cup of sweet bubble tea.
The scenery tonight was much better. When Mark saw me coming, he stood up and looked me up and down before motioning to my chair. I sat down, and so did he, both of us waiting for the other to talk. I should pick up the menu and pretend I didn’t have it memorized, but I was too busy trying to decipher Mark’s face.
“What? Is there something on my face?” I smoothed down my hair and rubbed my cheeks, watching his eyes move down my body like he was noticing every curve. I could feel my cheeks flush. “You’re making me blush, Mark. Is my shirt on inside out?” I glanced down at the material to check for a tag as he stared. “I’ve done that before, you know. One time, I went to the grocery store, and people kept looking at me funny, and when I got home, I realized my shirt was on inside out.”
Mark’s warm chuckle made it feel like a thousand butterflies had taken flight in my stomach. “No, I’ve never seen you wear jeans before.”
“I also own heels and a dress.”
Mark’s eyes darkened, and he continued to stare until I glanced away. Luckily for me, I didn’t need to stress over my inability to have a normal conversation with a hot guy because our server walked up a minute later and, I was saved from my nature channel of emotions.
“Hi, Binh,” I said. His parents owned the place, and he still helped out a few days a week.
“Hey, Jenna,” he said back. “Usual tonight?”
“Hmm. Maybe not.” I glanced at Mark, but he looked back blankly. “Let’s try something spicy. We’ll start with spring rolls, then have a number seventeen, number twelve, two Saigon Red’s, and a strawberry bubble tea.”
“Of course,” he said as I passed over our menus.Mark looked at it like it was written in Latin.
“You’re not allergic to goat, ox, or squid, are you?” I said with a slight giggle, trying to keep a straight face.
“Goat? Did you say goat?”
“And squid. No allergies, right?”
