Page 72 of The Trouble with Flings

“It’s nice to meet you, Mia,” Fitz says. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I can say the same,” she says. “Maybe we can compare notes later.”

Fitz chuckles. “How’s it going, Reggie?”

“Good. Mia and I were just catching up.” Reggie stands and shakes Fitz’s hand. “Nice to see you, man.”

“You too,” Fitz says.

Reggie looks between me and Fitz assessingly. “I’d ask what you’re doing in the city, but I think I can figure that out.”

“Jennifer’s been showing me the finer points of city living,” Fitz says, his arm slipping around my waist. “We hit the bookstore, the laundromat, and a grocery store. It was fun. The best day I’ve had since we left Costa Rica.”

“He’s out of his mind,” I say, though his honesty further endears me toward him. Mia’s watching us intently. I know she’s cataloging every microexpression on my face.

“Jen told me you were charming,” Mia says. “I see she wasn’t lying.”

“She said that?” Fitz glances at me, looking pleased.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” I say.

“We’re just having a friendly dinner. Why don’t you join us?” Reggie suggests.

Mia and I exchange warily amused glances.

Fitz says, “Sounds good to me. What do you think?”

“Are you sure we’re not interrupting?” I ask Mia.

“Not at all,” she says with her best practiced smile. “The more the merrier.”

“In that case.” Fitz’s hand slides to my hip, guiding me into the booth, and he follows me in.

The waitress brings extra place settings and glasses of water and takes our drink orders.

“Jen, how’s work?” Reggie asks. “Still running those kids ragged?”

“Only for their betterment,” I say.

“She’s doing wonders for those kids,” Fitz says.

“And the community knows it,” Mia says. “She got a donation big enough to replace all of the computers, and her Launchpad kids are thriving. Tell them, Jen.”

As I talk about the program, the waitress brings our drinks, and we all take a minute to peruse the menu and order dinner. After she walks away, I say, “We’ve got eight kids in the program this year, and their ideas are incredible. One girl wants to start a sustainable clothing resale business. An environmentally ethical alternative to the big peer-to-peer fast-fashion apps, designed by a sixteen-year-old who’s been thinking about waste and fashion since she was twelve.” I shake my head. “When I was her age, I was skipping school and causing trouble.”

“That’s incredible,” Reggie says.

“I know,” I say. “She’s going to go far.”

“And you’re making that possible,” Fitz says.

“Well, the program is,” I say.

“Yes, but that program was your brainchild,” he says, punctuating his compliment by squeezing my hand under the table.

“I’m just glad she’s finding her way. The new computers have made a huge difference for the kids. We were limping along on machines that crashed twice a week, and everybody was frustrated, but that donation changed everything. Now the kids can actually do real research, build better presentations, and they’re excited to do it. I could kiss whoever donated that money.”

“You worked hard on the fundraiser. It’s like you manifested the donation,” Mia says.