Tricia’s gaze darts from me to the server that silently appeared next to the table. We wait while he places the bill face down and drops two fortune cookies on the table before leaving as quietly as he came.
I hand her one of the cookies, leaving the other one on the table.
She busies herself with trying to tear the cookie’s plastic wrap off. Keeping her head down, she mumbles, “I kinda dropped it into my neighbor’s pool.”
“In a pool? Isn’t it rather chilly for swimming?”
Her blonde head jerks up, and the plastic tears, the cookie shooting upwards before bouncing across the table to land on my mostly empty plate.
I pick it up and give it a shake, globs of sweet and sour sauce splattering back onto my plate. “Guess this one is mine now.”
Smothering a laugh with her hand, she grabs at the still wrapped cookie and offers it to me. “No, don’t eat that!”
“Why? It’s fine.” To prove my point, I bite into the now-sticky cookie, forgetting about the fortune until a piece of paper slides against my tongue. With a grimace, I reach in and pluck it out.
Tricia’s entire body shakes, her face going almost as red as the sweet and sour sauce while she tries to hold in her laughter.
Summoning up a bit of dignity, I fish the other half of the fortune out of the uneaten half of my cookie and put the two pieces together.
“Happiness comes to those that seek it.” I mull that over and smile. “The cookie is wise tonight.”
With an amused quirk of her lips, Tricia breaks open the second cookie. “Seek what you want, and you will never be unhappy,” she reads, her voice barely louder than a whisper by the time she gets to the last word.
The scrap of paper slips out of her fingers, her gaze avoiding mine. The fortune cookies are only a bit of harmless fun, but they seem to have rattled Tricia.
Normally I would say something about how similar ours are or at least ask her what she wanted. Instead, I remain quiet and let her work through whatever is bothering her.
Grabbing at her drink, she takes a long sip. When she sets her glass down, her grin is back in place. “Anyway, I wasn’t planning to go swimming, and neither was Ruthie, my neighbor. We had to fish her dog out along with the squirrel he chased in there.”
“Oh my,” I mutter, trying not to linger too long on the mental image of Tricia soaking wet, her clothes clinging to every sweet curve.
“Yes, oh my indeed. We were using the pool net to scoop the squirrel out when Maxwell, her chihuahua, decided we were trapping it for him and he lunged, grabbing the net and pulling Ruthie in. I tried to stop her and that didn’t go so well.”
A rueful smile tugs at her lips. “It was only when I changed that I realized my phone was at the bottom of the pool. So, there I was with no phone and no clue what your number was to call you and let you know I was going to be late.”
She could have called the restaurant, but I guess with everything going on that didn’t even cross her mind. I don’t hold that against her and am truly just thankful that she showed and is sitting here with me now.
Even so my lips twitch with my efforts not to laugh when I ask, “Did you get your phone out?”
“I did, but I don’t have much hope for it. I have it in a bag of dried rice at home.”
Pulling out my wallet, I place my credit card on top of the bill and fish out one of my business cards. Flipping the card over, I scrawl my personal number on it and hand it over. “In case you can’t salvage yours.”
“Thank you,” she says, tucking the card into her purse. Glancing at me, a hint of pink dusts her cheeks in a blush that sends a pulse of longing through me. “Thank you for everything, Matt. Being understanding and just being so nice.”
“I try. I can’t imagine anyone not being nice around you.”
The pink morphs into red and it’s all I can do not to lean across the table and kiss her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
TRICIA
“You’d be surprised,” I say, sitting up straighter in the seat, my gaze locking onto his soft brown ones. “Or maybe you wouldn’t be. I can’t imagine everyone is pleasant to be around while you’re messing with their teeth and inflecting pain.”
“A necessary evil of my job. Like they say, ‘no pain, no gain’,” he grins, showing off his perfect white teeth. I don’t want to think about how much work went into achieving them. Or the pain.
“My family asks how I can deal with looking at half-naked people all day. It’s not that bad. You want to help the person and end their discomfort. Plus, most people are very conscious of their nakedness and shower and prep ahead of time. But your line of work? You have to look into mouths all day…” I trail off, slapping my palm protectively over my mouth as a horrifying thought occurs.