I smile at her honesty. "I meant more like..." I gesture toward the parking lot. "That's my car." I point to the rusty old Range Rover. Then I motion to the studio behind us. "And I work here."
"So what, dude?"
I stare at her, trying to figure out why no one ever understands this.
"Is that why you came here? Because you thought I was dating your dad?"
She laughs again, shaking her head. "No. Well... kind of. I just wanted to clear the air, you know? I had my suspicions." She bites her lip and gives me a sidelong look that's so much like Vince it makes my stomach flip. "You sure, though? You're not just lying to cover it up, right? You're really not together with my dad?"
I nudge her playfully. "No. I mean, we run together on weekdays, and sometimes we grab lunch or coffee in the afternoon. We text, we call. That's it. We're not dating."
She raises an eyebrow, but I laugh it off.
"Okay," she says finally, nudging me. "But I don't know if I believe you."
We sit there a moment longer, then her expression shifts. She rakes her fingers through her hair, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "There was actually something else I wanted to talk about... Another reason I came here."
I sit up straighter, catching the seriousness that suddenly weights her tone.
"I don't think my parents would understand," she admits, the words spilling out in a rush. "I really need advice, and... I don't know who else to talk to about this who would understand."
I nod, keeping my voice calm and steady. "Okay."
That's when she tells me something she makes me swear to keep secret. Something Vince can't know. The promise feels strange—wrong, even—on my tongue, but I can see how much she needs someone in her corner, someone who won't judge.
So I wrap my pinky around hers and swear to keep her secret, even as uncertainty coils in my stomach.
"I should probably let you get back to work," she says, grabbing her messenger bag from the floor. "But hey, you should come by for dinner sometime. My sister would love to meet you too."
The offer hangs in the air between us, a fragile olive branch I'm not sure I'm ready to accept. "I'd like that," I say, the words surprising both of us. "Yeah. I'd really like that. But... Maybe I'll come up with something fun for us to do, instead of a dinner. Is that okay?"
Malia grins, and for the first time, I see it—the way her eyes light up just like Vince's when he's genuinely happy. "Yeah that's cool," she says, already backing toward the door.
We exchange phone numbers before Malia leaves, her condition clear: I'm not supposed to tell Vince about our little friendship, or the secret she's just shared.
"Hey, you're not supposed to park there, you know," I say, smirking as we go our separate ways.
She shrugs like it doesn't matter. "I get a ticket, I pay the ticket. Whatever. I park where I want. Tickets are a price I gladly pay."
I have a sneaking suspicion Vince is the one paying for those tickets.
She walks to the black Porsche, still ranting about how ridiculous it is to have a red zone in front of the studio. She's genuinely indignant about a standard rule that exists literally everywhere. Watching her climb into Vince's illegally parked car, still mid-rant, I can't help but smile.
She's endless entertainment... to me, at least.
I can see why she stresses Vince out so much.
Later that night, my phone buzzes with a stream of thank-yous, memes, and a GIF of a dog wearing sunglasses that makes me laugh out loud. I don't expect to become friends with Malia, but that's exactly what's happening. And honestly? I like her.
She's sharp and funny, with a good head on her shoulders. Vince has every reason to be proud of her.
Inspired by her rant about feeling distant from him, I type back an idea.
"What do you think about ice skating next weekend? Maybe some hockey? Your dad used to love it as a kid."
Her response comes back almost instantly, a barrage of exclamation points and an enthusiastic, "Yes!"
Vince already has plans with her and Tina this weekend, but she says the next one is free. She even drops a pin to their house, so I'll know where to pick them up.
