4. Peyton #3
I guess looking up the internal temperature of properly cooked poultry for fun the other night came in handy sooner than I thought.
I wait for him to reply, but Callum’s still sitting there, with his mouth open, not saying anything, so I continue the conversation for both of us while we wait for Kevin.
I prop my head up on my hand. “Anything I should know about the health and wellness of this smoothie shop? I wouldn’t want to get terminated over the incorrect internal temperature of a Nutty Nana.”
He nods absentmindedly, looking down at his clipboard. “Smoothies are considered a TCS—Temperature Control for Safety food. They need to be kept at forty degrees fahrenheit or colder to prevent bacterial growth.”
“Oh, shit.” I grin. “I didn’t know there was an actual answer to that question.”
He blushes. “Well, there is.”
“You know a lot, huh, Callum?”
“About my job? Um, yeah. I know a good amount.” He looks off to the side, before seemingly remembering he was going to interrogate me, and his lips press into a thin line. “Speaking of jobs… What is it that you do?”
I’m having a shockingly great time, so I can’t help but answer vaguely. “I’m kind of a Jill-of-All-Trades.”
Callum raises an eyebrow. “All trades?”
“Most trades. Trades that I trade in.”
“Give me an example of one trade. Or even a rumor, at this point.”
A rumor is so stupid, and a laugh bubbles out of me.
He huffs, but I catch a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Why are you being so secretive, Peyton?”
“Why are you being so nosy, Callum?” I counter.
He folds his arms. “You know, I could just ask Kevin what you’re doing here.”
I flutter my eyelashes. “And ruin all the fun?”
“Ah! Here they are.” Kevin comes back, the kitchen door swinging behind him, with two Nutty Nanas. He hands one to each of us, and I take a sip.
“Oh my God, it’s wonderful. Life-changing. The nutty flavor is so pronounced!” I exclaim.
It is good—in the way that a combination of peanut butter and bananas and vanilla will always be good—but it’s not as earth-shattering as I’m making it sound. Callum squints over his giant smoothie cup, and I wink at him over mine.
Kevin beams. “That’s great to hear, Peyton! If you keep this up on opening day, I have no doubt it’ll be a success.”
“Sorry,” Callum interjects. “Keep what up?”
Kevin’s forehead wrinkles in confusion—probably wondering why his health inspector friend sounds aggressively curious—which appears to cause Callum physical distress.
His cheeks redden, and one of his forehead veins says hello.
His eyes narrow in a way that screams, How can Kevin be confused when I’m the one who’s confused?
Callum glances at me, as if I’ll provide an explanation, but I just smirk instead.
Kevin tugs on the cuff of his Healthtopia sweatshirt. “What do you mean—”
“Well, I should really get going, Kevin. Lots to prepare for. I want to thank you for this opportunity. I won’t let you down,” I say.
“I’m confident you won’t.” Kevin stands up and holds his hand out.
I wince and stare at his outstretched fingers. How can I avoid his touch? Out of any good options, I let go of my smoothie, and it spills on the floor.
My stomach drops, and a wave of guilt washes over me. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. Where are the napkins? I’ll clean it up.”
Kevin just smiles and shakes his head. “No problem. My first smoothie spill. I should mark the occasion.”
I chuckle sheepishly and reach up to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. “I’m such a klutz. These things happen to me all the time.”
Callum folds his arms. “Do they?”
They don’t. After years of modeling, I’m the opposite of clumsy. I don’t really have time to explore the fact that Callum noticed such a small detail about me. His ability to see through a piece of my facade unnerves me as much as it interests me.
Kevin looks between us. “Feel free to head out. I have a few tasks to get finished on my end, anyway. Thanks, to both of you, for your time.” He turns toward Callum.
“Callum, you’re welcome to join us on opening day.
And if that sister of yours wanted to drop by and post something on her social media, I’d sure be grateful. Free smoothies on me.”
I get the sense that Callum’s default answer to going anywhere is a polite decline.
But maybe I’m not as good at reading him as he is at reading me, because after staring at me for a half second longer, he says, “I’ll be there.
” The answer appears to shock Kevin, my own surprise following closely behind.
Something unfamiliar in me glows at the promise of seeing Callum again, and I’m struggling to nail the reason why. Is it that he approaches me with intrigue instead of lust? Is it the unexpected entertainment factor, going back and forth with him?
I don’t know what it is, but I practically skip toward the door, buoyed by the faces he makes whenever he’s confused—which seem to be a lot around me.
Before I leave, I throw one last look over my shoulder and give Callum a little wave. “Good seeing you, Officer.”