Page 22 of Feel It in the Air

“She’s a redhead,” Milo says.

“Milo!”

He lifts his shoulder without a care, slugging back some water. Okay, it’s time to end this lunch. I need to get back to work. Need to think about something—anything—other than Margeaux. Because if I let myself, she would be all I thought about.

Pushing to my feet, the buzz of my phone stops me midrise. Logically I know it’s work. Statistically, I have a better chance of being related to the person on the other end of whatever message was just sent to me than not. Still, hope hangs in the air like a plume of smoke, surrounding me, permeating everything. To the point where I’m afraid to look.

My brothers, on the other hand, have zero issue interfering.

“Is it her?”

“It’s Airport Bar Angel, isn’t it?”

“Margeaux!” I correct them, sitting back down. Please don’t let them call her Airport Bar Angel to her face…again…

Inhaling deeply, I prepare for disappointment. Because again, this is going to be work. That’s how my life goes.

Margeaux

Hi

Holy shit.

“It’s her…” Anton mutters.

His voice is a million miles away and fading with each second. He continues to say something, but I have no idea what it is, my entire focus on the small screen.

Hi

Margeaux

So, are friends allowed to ask friends for dinner recommendations? My kitchen still isn’t fully unpacked and I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I think I’ve had my fill of pizza

I smile, chuckling to myself.

they most certainly are. I assume you’ve been warned off the Kountry Kitchen?

By you and others

Unfortunately, Dolly’s is only open for breakfast and lunch, but there are a couple places in the next town over I can recommend.

“Dude, Drafts and Dig In!” Milo exclaims.

I jump, nearly knocking him over in the process. I was so dialed into my conversation with Margeaux I hadn’t realized he was peering over my shoulder.

“We’ve got the food truck coming to Pour Decisions tonight,” he continues. “She can come hang out with us.”

“No.” I push to my feet, shaking my head as my thumbs start back at the keys. I will not be sending her to the wolves. “Not what she asked for.”

“She asked for dinner. Food trucks are dinner.”

I flip him the bird and walk away from the table. Should I mention Drafts and Dig in? Probably. But I’m not going to. Instead, this is my chance to learn a little more about her.

Are you a fan of tacos?

Isn’t everyone?

Bingo…