Page 71 of 10 Things I Hate About Zombies

He was quite the booth helper. And he expanded the demographic of people who’d come up just to flirt, which meant more sales. And Zoey liked the idea of more sales given that she was down a roommate and that her rent was due for its large-as-legally-possible annual increase.

It was a gorgeous summer evening (possible zombies aside) and Zoey was marvelling at the way the light filtered through the trees at Laurelhurst Park – not the usual venue for this particular event, but apparently the neighbours up at Grant Park had hit their nudity limits. Not to mention that the Laurelhurst Cat Mayor voting was taking place at the same time: cyclists could pop their vote into the nearby booths as they rolled past. Ainsley had spent the day door-knocking for Romero, and had left flyers at The Smoothie Maven to encourage voter turnout.

‘I’m anxious,’ she’d said, swigging atrocious wine as she’d guillotined flyers in the backyard patio of the shop. ‘Should we have done a get-out-the-vote postcard campaign?’

‘We did all we could,’ Zoey had said. ‘It’s in the hands of the voters.’

Now, Zoey leaned against her favourite tree – the stooped one with the little fairy cottages and dioramas – half watching a group of dads playing ultimate frisbee, half watching out for a good-looking lumberjack guy to make his presence known.

He did not disappoint: mere minutes later, Nick loped up, Alice cavorting around him. Nick was in his usual plaid shirt and jeans uniform, although today the plaid was a greenish blue that fitted in perfectly with the rich, deep colours of the enormous park.

‘Back where it all started, huh?’ she said, as she nodded over at the lake they’d walked around during their first … had it been a date? Looking back, she supposed that it had been. She’d certainly wanted it to be, no matter what the avoidant-attachment-style demon in her head had to say about it.

Nick nodded cheerfully as ducks plunged in and out of the water, curly butt feathers high and proud. ‘It’s hard not to get wrapped up in the magic of this place. And if you ask Alice, it has some of the best squirrel density around.’

Alice had her eye on a particularly fat squirrel who was mocking her from a branch directly above the sparkly fairy house.

‘Watch it, squirrel,’ warned Nick, ‘this girl can jump. She’s a regular Air Bud.’

A whirring sound: the frisbee was heading their way. It landed at Zoey’s feet, or near enough – she had to shuffle to catch it. She waggled it at Alice, who positioned herself in ready-to-play mode: front legs down, butt high in the air. Then she flung it back towards the frisbee dads.

But the wind was not behaving. The frisbee drifted off towards the lake, bumping and skidding until it rolled into the lake, then went floating off between the rocks and duck butts.

‘Sorry,’ called Zoey, trying to shrink down into invisibility.

But Alice was on the case. Smoothie Maven bandana flying, she went racing off to the water, plunging in to grab the frisbee. Ducks came tilting back up, blinking curiously at the marauding dog, and a few turtles slid into the safety of the water.

By the time Alice re-emerged, a small crowd had gathered and was cheering her on. Alice dropped the frisbee over by the dads, then came trotting back to Zoey and Nick, shaking herself off on both of them.

‘Ack, Alice!’ shrieked Zoey, trying to protect herself with her hands. But it was no use: wet-dog smell was going to follow her for the rest of the evening.

‘Are you repudiating Alice’s gesture of love?’ teased Nick.

Zoey was unclipping the top of her overalls, so that they’d drop down to reveal her mostly dry T-shirt underneath. ‘I can buckle these back up if you’d prefer.’

Nick folded his arms. (Something Zoey would never tire of.) ‘This is an unfair use of feminine wiles.’

Zoey made a show of reclipping and unclipping the overalls.

‘I call time out before we have no choice but to find a secluded spot. Which, as fun as that would be, would result in us missing the event.’

Hmm. Zoey wasn’t upset that she had this kind of draw over him.

‘Besides,’ he went on, teasingly, ‘I think it’s the riders who are meant to be naked, not the vendors. Not that I object to your right to be naked. But that’s a whole other brand identity. Terriffany would have a heart attack.’

‘You were so close to seeing what I was wearing underneath these voluminous garments.’ Zoey grinned evilly as she conjured up the least sexy things she could imagine. ‘Bloomers. Granny knickers. Shapewear.’

‘All at once? Impressive.’

Dammit, how did he best her every time? She shook her head. ‘All right, enough dirty talk. Time to get this booth thing happening.’

The two of them hauled her booth set-up off the back of Nick’s truck and over to where the other vendors were setting up. Zoey grumbled as tablecloths and wooden price tags leapt from her hand wagon as though possessed by the spirit of a big-box store, then grumbled some more as she stacked them back in.

‘Not a fan of Jenga, huh?’ asked Nick, as he easily carried a fold-up table while shoving along a few crates of bottled smoothies on the dolly he’d used to transport her fridge all those weeks ago.

‘Hauling this stuff reminds me why I hate doing pop-ups.’ Zoey paused to shake out a hand. It was white from where the handle of her rolly cart had dug in.

‘It’s the last one for the season, isn’t it?’