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Jade:

Like, sorrier than a sorry son of a bitch sorry.

Lim:

Hmmmm.

Jade:

Maybe we could talk about it for real, in person?

Lim:

When and where?

Jade:

Tomorrow night at Blu House.

Lim:

Is this you asking me on a date??

Jade:

Yes.

Lim:

Oh.

Lim:

Come on, Dunn, you can ask me better than that.

Jade:

Francesca. I want to take you out and sit across the table from you and watch you eat truffle fries and drink wine.

Jade:

I want to plead my case.

Jade:

Will you let me?

Lim:

Yes.

23

Blu House was one of two “nice” restaurants in Greenbelt. The other was a stalwart Italian restaurant that had been around for decades and was significantly more popular among the town’s older citizens. Blu House had been open for only a few years but had grown in popularity among the younger folks in the surrounding towns eager to have something that made them feel like they were showing off on Instagram.

Perfectly befitting its name, the restaurant was deep in the center of Greenbelt’s historical neighborhood, in a giant blue mansion that had sat vacant for years. Apparently, the owners had spent more than $100,000 to turn it into the type of eatery that had been featured in publications across the state.

Franny had never been. Honestly, she could think of only one or two times in her entire life when she’d been to a restaurant that had more than three of the little dollar signs next to the Google listing. She’d had to FaceTime Will and Yao from her house an hour before she left to make sure her outfit wouldn’t get her turned away at the door for not being fancy enough. She went with a pair of dark blue skinny-fit pin-striped pants, a crisp white button-up, and some low-heeled boots.