Page 15 of Starrily

“Journalists, am I right?” Simon grabbed his jacket and swung it over his shoulder. He stopped at the open door. “Well, Phoenix? Yournew ideasawait.”

Callie had expected one of those sitting-at-bar places, but the restaurant was unexpectedly warm and cozy, with wood-paneled walls and matching tables. They’d beaten the lunch rush, so it was also pleasantly quiet, the murmuring of a few guests serving almost as white noise. It only needed a touch of twilight and some candles, and the ambiance would be very romantic.

Good thing they were here for lunch.

Jessica looked around, then pointed at a table positioned in front of a three-piece painting of a serene hilly landscape. “You two go sit over there. Great background.”

“You’re not sitting with us?” Callie asked.

“Oh, no. I wouldn’t intervene in your discussions. I’ll sit here and eavesdrop.”

“You—uh—” Stunned, Callie finally followed Simon to the designated table. “What are we supposed to do?”

“Talk, I believe. Although I wouldn’t mind a good meal, either.”

They sat down and a waiter promptly appeared; Callie didn’t want to be stuck in decision hell and went for the chef’s recommended, while Simon opted for a fugu karaage.

And they waited.

“Talk,” Jessica said in a half-whisper.

“Well, I’m not starting,” Simon said.

“What?”

“Every time I attempt a conversation with you, you shoot me down.”

“You did just start it again, though,” she muttered.

“Wow.” A corner of his mouth quirked up. “If that came from anyone but you, I’d accept it as a joke.”

“You think I don’t recognize jokes?”

“Notthink, I know.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“Which brings us back to you shooting down my openers.”

“Well, maybe”—she waved her hand around—“you need to think of better openers.‘Let’s pretend we’re spies on a secret mission.’ Really?”

“I’ll have you know, everyone loves my openers.”

“Good thing I’m not everyone, then.”

“Indeed.” He leaned back and crossed his arms under his chest as Callie tried to figure out if that was a compliment or the opposite of one.

Why would she want it to be a compliment, anyway? He was insufferable. He couldn’t stay serious for a single minute.

She leaned back as well, unintentionally mimicking his pose.

I hope you’re enjoying your eavesdropping, Jessica.

The food arrived: a still-steaming bowl of miso soup, its salty-sweet smell making Callie’s mouth water, and a plate of golden-fried fish pieces with fresh lemon slices and sides for Simon. He dug in with vigor and gave a happy nod.

“Hold on,” she said. “Isn’t that pufferfish?”

“Delicious, too,” he said after swallowing.