We takethe company car to the project site. Unlike my first time, this visit goes smoothly. We walk the perimeter, confirm measurements, and cross-reference the site markers to confirm that where the primary track segments will be offloaded matches the plans.
The foreman hands over the updated logs. Theo scans them once, nods, and passes them to me to confirm, which I do. We’re finished by five.
As we pull back into the car park, I hesitate, then clear my throat. “Since you bought dinner last time, what if we did it again? But this time it’s on me.”
“You don’t need to. I can justify the expense.”
“I know, but I’d like to.”
Theo glances in my direction and starts the engine. “How about we compromise. I’ll let you pay, but I’ll choose where.”
“Deal.”
Ten minutes later, I realize I’ve made a rookie mistake. I should’ve known by that darn glint in his eyes that a compromise with Theo Riverton was never going to be in my favor.
We’re standing under the familiar glowing red-and-white sign of Burger Chalet. I glare at him, gesturing to the plastic menu board. “You did this on purpose.”
Theo’s mouth twitches. “You offered.”
We enter the fast-food chain and place our orders. To my relief, at least he doesn’t order the monstrosity otherwise known as the Alpine Tower. We each end up with Summit Burgers and a shared order of Avalanche Fries.
After grabbing a handful of napkins and a tray that’s seen better decades, we find a booth in the far corner that has a suspicious patch of duct tape.
I take a tentative bite of the fries. And to my immensesurprise, they aren’t half-bad, though I won’t ever admit that to Theo. His ego is already large enough, and if he knew I actually liked the Summit Sauce, I’d never hear the end of it.
Between bites, our conversation drifts back to work. Our inner nerds emerge. We talk about some of the coasters on our bucket lists, designs that should’ve only worked on paper, and what our dream coasters would include.
“For me it’s high-speed tunnels and low-to-the-ground turns where you feel the grass brushing your feet,” I say.
“The maintenance on that would be a nightmare,” Theo says, stealing the last fry.
“It’s a dream. Not reality.” I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “What about you?”
“Simple. A non-linear launch with magnetic braking. It’d hold the riders at the apex for just a second too long—long enough for them to reconsider their life choices—before dropping them into a blind curve.”
That’s so Theo. It figures he’d want a coaster with a concept so complex that only the person who designed would realize it. Hidden in plain sight. “That’snotsimple. A non-linear launch?”
“Itcanbe. It just needs to be designed properly,” he counters.
“You’d probably be the only engineer who could design it.”
That earns me a quiet laugh. “You said it. Not me.”
After our meal, both full, we exit Burger Chalet and take a slow walk toward his motorcycle. I rack my brain for a way to extend our time together. Would it be weird if I suggested we do something like catch a movie? That’s something friends do, isn’t it? Or would it be too close to a date?
Theo must sense it too, because instead of heading straight toward the lot, he stops and glances sideways at me. “It’s still early.”
“That’s either a very good sign or a very bad one,” I say slowly.
His mouth curves, showing off a boyish grin. “Depends how you feel about after-dinner adventures.”
My breath catches. “Defineadventure.”
“It involves water,” he says casually.
“The beach?”
“No.” He shakes his head, the neon light catching the sharp line of his jaw. “Too dark for that. But I’ll give you a hint—It involves an aquatic theme park.”
