The restaurant hummed with its usual midday energy, a mix of clinking silverware, low chatter, and the occasional burst of laughter from a table nearby. Naomi sat opposite Tasha, staring absently at the rim of her glass of water. Her fork had barely made a dent in the salad she'd ordered, and her usual sparkle—the one Tasha always teased her about—seemed dimmed.Tasha had been watching her carefully, noting the way Naomi's eyes darted to her phone now and then, as if she expected it to light up again with another message. Finally, unable to ignore the heaviness settling over her friend's shoulders, Tasha leaned forward, resting her chin on one palm."What's wrong?" she asked, her tone softer than her usual playful one.Naomi blinked, caught off guard. "Nothing," she said quickly, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes."Mm-hmm." Tasha narrowed her gaze, her expression the exact look Naomi had seen a hundred times before—the look that said I know you're lying, and I'm not letting it slide. "Come on, say it."Naomi shifted in her seat, suddenly feeling the heat of the room pressing against her. She knew Tasha wouldn't let it go if she stayed silent too long. Still, the last thing she wanted to do was confess the real reason her mood had dropped—Jennifer's text, those venom-laced words that had cut deep despite her best attempts to shrug them off. If she told Tasha, she knew exactly how it would go: Tasha would launch into full protective-best-friend mode, fire blazing in her eyes, and the Jeremiah drama she so desperately wanted to leave behind would be dragged right back to the surface.So instead, Naomi leaned into distraction."Actually," she said, biting her lip as though suddenly remembering something, "I was wondering if you could come home with me after work today. I… might need your help picking out a dress for tonight."Tasha's brows shot up, her suspicious look dissolving into wide-eyed interest. "Oh? Now that's more like it." Her lips curved into a knowing grin. "Sure, I'll help. In fact, I'd even love to chaperone if you want. You know—make sure you don't get into any trouble, silly girl."Her teasing tone was enough to lighten the weight pressing down on Naomi's chest. She laughed, rolling her eyes. "I don't think that will be necessary, thank you very much."But then, as she laughed, something struck her—a sudden jolt that made her sit straighter in her chair. Her eyes widened."Oh my God," she gasped.Tasha immediately perked up. "What?"Naomi pressed a hand against her forehead. "I haven't even replied Michael yet.""What?" Tasha's chair creaked as she leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling with scandalous delight. "Are you serious? You mean to tell me he asked you to dinner, and you've just left him hanging?"Naomi gave a small, guilty shrug. "I—I didn't mean to. I just… forgot.""Forgot?" Tasha's voice went up half an octave, drawing the attention of a couple at the next table. She lowered it again, shaking her head in disbelief. "Girl, what are you waiting for? Reply to him right away!"Naomi fumbled for her phone, cheeks warming as she unlocked the screen. Her thumb hovered uncertainly above the keyboard. "On it," she muttered, almost to herself.Tasha smirked knowingly, her chin lifting in mock authority. "And you might want to charm up your wording a little. Don't just say 'Okay, cool, see you there.' Ugh. That's boring. Let me help you with it." She reached across the table playfully, her fingers wiggling like claws as she made a grab for Naomi's phone.Naomi twisted away with a laugh, clutching the phone to her chest like it was a secret treasure. "Oh please, Tash. It's just a business dinner.""Business dinner?" Tasha scoffed, giving her the kind of exaggerated look that only a best friend could pull off without offense. "Girl, I can tell you for free—there is no such thing as a business dinner when it's one-on-one. Especially not with a man like him."Naomi arched a brow, a smirk tugging at her lips. "And what exactly do you mean by 'a man like him'?""You know what I mean." Tasha leaned in conspiratorially, lowering her voice as though Michael himself might be hiding under the table. "Tall, put-together, got that quiet confidence thing going on. The kind of man who doesn't just take you to dinner to talk about spreadsheets."Naomi let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "You're reading too much into this.""Am I?" Tasha teased, pointing her fork at Naomi. "Because the way your face lit up when you said you were going to dinner… girl, don't tell me that was about spreadsheets."Naomi froze for a second, her smile faltering. She tried to brush it off with another laugh, but Tasha's words landed closer to the truth than she wanted to admit. Her excitement hadn't been about the so-called "business dinner." It had been about the thrill—the possibility—that something new was unfolding in her life. Something that had nothing to do with Jeremiah, with heartbreak, or with Jennifer's venom.Still, she wasn't about to give Tasha the satisfaction of being right."Well, this one is about business," Naomi insisted, her tone light but her cheeks tinged pink. "So don't let your mind go there."Tasha leaned back in her chair, smirking knowingly as she popped a fry into her mouth. "Mm-hmm. Whatever you say."Their laughter bubbled into the air, blending with the restaurant's chatter. For a moment, Naomi allowed herself to bask in the warmth of it—the normalcy, the ease of being with Tasha. But beneath it all, a restlessness stirred, nagging at her.Her phone was still in her hand, the text box open. She glanced down at it, thumb hovering uncertainly. What was she even supposed to write? Sure, sounds good. Where should we meet? Too bland. Looking forward to it. Too suggestive?Tasha noticed her hesitation immediately. "Oh my God, you're overthinking this. Just type something already."Naomi groaned softly, setting the phone flat on the table as though surrendering. "Fine. What do I even say?"Tasha grinned, her eyes gleaming mischievously. "Something like… 'Dinner sounds great, Mr. Manager. Just don't bore me with too much business talk.'"Naomi's eyes widened in mock horror. "Are you insane? I can't send him that!""Why not?" Tasha leaned back with a laugh. "It's flirty, but not too much. Shows personality."Naomi shook her head, stifling a smile. "No way. That's way too forward. This is strictly professional.""Mm-hmm," Tasha said again, clearly unconvinced. She waved a hand dismissively, as if to say, Suit yourself. But I know the truth.Naomi rolled her eyes but couldn't help laughing. "You're impossible, you know that?""And you're adorable when you're trying to hide things from me," Tasha shot back.That last line struck Naomi a little too close to home. She forced another laugh, hoping Tasha wouldn't notice the way her smile faltered. Because the truth was, she was hiding something—not about Michael, but about Jennifer's text, the venom still burning in the back of her mind. She thought about telling Tasha, just blurting it out between bites of lunch, but her instincts stopped her. Tasha wouldn't let it go, and the last thing Naomi wanted was to turn this bright, teasing lunch into another Jeremiah-centered pity session.So instead, she let the moment slip by.She bent her head over her phone, pretending to focus on typing out the reply to Michael, even as her mind drifted back to Jennifer's sharp words. The ache they carried lingered, no matter how much she smiled and laughed.But for now, she decided, it was easier to let Tasha think the only thing on her mind was what to wear tonight.
Naomi exhaled as though she had just launched a missile into unknown skies. The tiny "message sent" icon glowed on her phone screen, final and irreversible.
"Sent," she murmured under her breath, placing the phone face down on the table as though she could silence the ripple of nerves humming through her."How did you reply him? Let me see," Tasha leaned forward, eyes glittering with curiosity. She tilted her head like a cat spotting something shiny, trying to peek past Naomi's guard.Naomi's reflexes were faster. With a playful laugh, she pressed her palm flat over the screen, sliding it away from Tasha's reaching gaze."Go away," Naomi teased, shaking her head at her friend's persistence."Oh no, don't 'go away' me," Tasha grinned, her elbow perched dramatically on the edge of the table as she tried to snatch a glance. "I helped you come up with those words. The least you can do is let me read them.""You only suggested," Naomi corrected, eyes wide with mock seriousness. She kept her hand firmly over the phone like a queen guarding her crown."And I suggested brilliance," Tasha shot back, straightening with an exaggerated toss of her hair. "Which you obviously used. So come on, hand it over."Naomi chuckled, shaking her head, though her cheeks betrayed her with the faintest flush. "I didn't use everything you said. Some of it was… a bit much.""A bit much?" Tasha clutched her chest as though Naomi had wounded her pride. "Excuse you, my wording was sparkling. Polished. A masterpiece of charm.""It sounded like I was flirting.""Exactly."Naomi rolled her eyes but couldn't help laughing. "Tasha, it's not like that. It's just dinner. Work. Business."Tasha leaned closer, narrowing her gaze as though examining Naomi under a microscope. "Business? Sure. But do you see the way you said that? 'It's just dinner.'" She mimicked Naomi's voice with a high, airy tone, fluttering her lashes. "You already sound like you're convincing yourself."Naomi swatted her arm. "You're ridiculous.""And you're in denial," Tasha countered with a triumphant smirk. "I mean, why else are your hands shaking just a little?"Naomi glanced down at her fingers resting against her glass of water, realizing they were indeed trembling. She tucked them beneath the table quickly, her throat tightening at how easily Tasha could read her."It's not nerves," she lied lightly. "I'm just… tired."Tasha gave her a look that said she didn't believe a word of it, but chose not to press further—for now. Instead, she leaned back in her chair, folding her arms with a grin. "Alright. Keep your little secret. But don't think for a second I don't see that blush creeping up your cheeks."Naomi instinctively touched her face, heat blooming across her skin. "I'm not blushing.""Oh, you're blushing. And for Michael of all people."Naomi ducked her gaze, trying to suppress a smile tugging at her lips. She hated that Tasha could make her self-conscious yet oddly giddy at the same time."I didn't even reply that much," Naomi muttered.Tasha arched an eyebrow. "Define 'not that much.'"Naomi hesitated, chewing her lip, then finally gave in a fraction. "I just thanked him for the invitation and said I was looking forward to discussing his ideas.""That's it?" Tasha nearly choked on her own laughter. "Girl, that's so… stiff. That's like replying to a boss about a board meeting, not agreeing to dinner with a man who clearly has more than quarterly reports on his mind."Naomi smirked faintly. "Good. That's exactly how I wanted it to sound."Tasha leaned forward again, lowering her voice into a playful whisper. "But the fact that you're smiling right now tells me a completely different story."Naomi fought to school her expression, but it was no use. Her lips curved despite her best efforts. She dropped her gaze to her plate, swirling her fork through the remnants of her salad as though the lettuce might distract her."Tasha…" she sighed, almost pleading."What?" Tasha asked innocently, sipping her drink as though she wasn't cornering Naomi like prey."Not everything has to be what you think it is.""True," Tasha said, tapping her nails against her glass. "But sometimes things are exactly what they look like. You can't tell me this man texts you about dinner, your stomach does gymnastics, and you sit here all coy about it—then expect me to believe it's just business."Naomi bit the inside of her cheek, unwilling to give her friend the satisfaction of admitting she was right. Yet somewhere inside, she felt it too—the strange electricity sparking through her chest when she thought of Michael's message, the thrill that hadn't quite faded since she hit send.