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“What does it say?”
“‘Measure twice, cut once.’” He frowns. “That’s not good advice for me. I already do that. Metaphorically.” He folds his napkin and lays it next to his plate. “If anything, I need to do less measuring. And double my cuts. That should’ve beenyourcookie.”
“Fortunes are for the future, not for advice.” I peer down at his slip. “Andreally, they’re just for fun.” I lift my gaze. “Anyway, they only work if you eat your cookie first. So you already broke the cardinal rule of fortune cookies.”
“That’s me. Spencer the Rebel.” His face is deadpan. Is he kidding? I’m too off balance to tell, which is weird. Feeling self-conscious around Spencer is new for me. “What does yours say?” he asks.
I read mine, and my throat goes dry. “‘Looking for love in all the wrong places.’” I toss my fortune next to his. “You’re right. We must’ve switched cookies. You’re the one who wants love and marriage and a baby carriage.”
Spencer glances at his broken cookie. “I’m too full to eat mine. You can have it.”
“Because I’m the bottomless pit, and you’re the one with all the abs?” As soon as the words spill out, my cheeks heat up. Now I’m blushing. Furiously. Spencer knows I noticed his abs. “Just kidding. Kayla’s waiting for you,” I say. “You’d better go on in. I’ll clean all this up. It’s my mess. Tess the Mess.”
His gaze lingers on me a moment too long, and the warmth in my cheeks spreads. “Thanks,” he says. “Again.”
“Next time, Italian.” Oh, no. Someone please cut off my tongue.
Why did you say that, Tess?There’s not going to be any next time.
So I busy myself stuffing things back in the Quik Wok bag. Meanwhile Spencer hops up, brushing the seat of his pants and wrapping his chopsticks in a fresh napkin.
“So I’ll see you at Beverly’s Beanery then?” he asks.
“Seven o’clock.” I nod, still not making eye contact. “I’ll do my best not to be lateorearly.”
“Measure twice, cut once,” he says.
I force myself not to watch as Spencer heads inside. Once I’ve got our takeout containers bagged up, I consider going back into the library myself. Just to say hi to Lucy. She’s in the children’s wing, on the opposite side of the building from Spencer. There would be a whole main floor between him and this blush I can’t get rid of.
But Lucy would see my face, and she’d probably ask about it. Plus Archie doesn’t want me indoors with my food again. I can play by the rules. So I trudge to the parking lot and drop our bag of leftovers on the passenger seat.
That’s when Mac’s call comes in. “Hey, sis!” His voice booms like a cannon as I switch over to speakerphone. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing much.” I don’t want to tell him I’m at the library. I’m not sure why, but I feel like he caught me doing something wrong. Which is crazy. I’m just the girl who brought joy here in the form of balloons, doughnuts, and Chinese food.
“Want to come by for dinner? Daisy’s asking for you.”
“Thanks, but I already ate.”
“Yeahhhh. McDonald’s doesn’t count. You need a vegetable that isn’t fries.”
“For your information, smart man, I had broccoli. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“Easier said than done.” He takes a beat. “It’s just that Brooke wants to see you before camp starts. You’re going to be MIA for a while after.”
I chew my lip. He’s got a point. “We could reinstitute our old tradition this week. Friday night pizza at your place? I’ll bring a big salad. With extra veggies. That is, if you’re free.”
“We’re free,” he says. “Daisy and Brooke will be excited to see you.”
I snort. “But not you?”
“Come on. I always love to see you, sis. I’m the one who instituted pizza night in the first place.”
“That you did.” The tradition started out as a reward for finishing school and prepping for the LSAT. But remembering how supportive Mac was then—and how I pulled the rug out from under him bynotgoing to law school—makes my stomach twist. Or maybe I’m just sad that I’ll be too busy to spend time with them soon. Either way, I don’t want to disappoint him. Again.
“So we’ll see you Friday,” Mac says.
“Yep. I’ll be the one with all the veggies.”
I’m just pulling out of the parking lot when he sends a family selfie. Him. Brooke. Daisy. They’ve all got their hands on Brooke’s swollen belly. My stomach twists again.
Guess I’m going to miss them more than I thought.
