“Who said this is a reconciliation?” she asks lightly.
I ignore that. “You brought me to your favorite place. That feels strategic.”
She shrugs. “You seemed like the type who could handle it.”
“What type is that?”
“Adventurous. Slightly reckless. Mildly arrogant.”
“Mildly?”
She tilts her head. “Fine. Moderately.”
I laugh. God, I’ve missed this version of her.
She reaches for the soy sauce, dips carefully. “Besides, sushi tells you
a lot about a person.”
“Oh, does it?”
“Mm-hmm. If you drown it in soy sauce, you don’t trust the chef.
If you refuse to try anything raw, you don’t like risk.”
“And what does ordering spicy tuna say?”
She studies me like she’s evaluating a case file. “That the person likes control. But also likes a little danger.”
“That’s wildly specific.”
“I’m rarely wrong.”
I take a bite and watch her over the rim of my glass. “So, what does ordering edamame say about you?”
She pauses just a fraction too long before answering. “That I know what I like.”
Alie seems to be letting her guard down a little and I’m getting to see the woman I met two years ago. Fun, easy, Alie.
As we finish our food, a silence settles around us. Not awkward, just quiet.
When the server brings our bill, I hand her my card without looking at it.
Alie smiles. “Thanks for dinner.”
“Happy you said yes to coming.” I laugh lightly.
“Did you give me a choice? I thought it was more like, ‘Say yes.’” She mimics my voice, sits back in her seat, smiles, and crosses her arms over her chest.
“You didn’t fight it too hard.” I smirk.
She tilts her head and gives a subtle nod.
I get my card back from the server and put it back in my wallet.
“I should probably get going,” she says, pulling her phone out of her bag. “Oh wow. Yeah, it’s getting late.”
I reach out to touch her hand. “Wait. Will you take a walk with me?”
