Lunar Love (28)

“Well, thanks for the tour. I should get going,” I say, waving to everyone. “Nice to meet you all.”

“Don’t want any trouble with the boss,” Bennett says.

“She’s not too bad,” I start to say, forgetting for a moment that the boss is in fact me and not Auntie. “Actually, she’s tough and has high standards and expectations. So I really should get back to it.”

Bennett walks me out to the front of the building. Midday traffic speeds past us as we stand facing each other on the sidewalk, lingering.

“Before you go, I know our first date was a bit…unexpected. Normally, I’d just let it go and forget about it, but ever since first meeting you at Lucky Monkey, I haven’t been able to make myself forget. About you.” Three shades of pink bloom across Bennett’s upper cheeks. “I had a great time with you, but I was hoping we could have a redo?”

I bite my lip hesitantly. “I don’t know about that…”

“I don’t like making bad first impressions. I felt completely off guard and unprepared. I know I can do better.” Bennett runs his hand through his hair, the strands landing in all the right places despite the breeze from the passing cars. “Of course, it’s your call. I could take you to the place where I get my best ideas. Or is that weird?”

For the life of me, I can’t think of anywhere this could possibly be. Maybe it’s in his car, where he drives around looking for other fifty-year-old small business ideas to steal. “I’ll admit I’m intrigued, but…”

“It’s up to you,” Bennett says. He shyly grins, and my heart rises in my chest like a soufflé.

I debate this. I’m trying to learn more about his company, not date him. But today’s impromptu office visit was actually fruitful. Now I know there’s a big feature coming. That’s something the press releases didn’t share. After this article debacle though, it feels wrong to keep seeing him. Unless I can use that time to tell him who I am. A guilt weed has started growing roots within me, and I need to rip them out. I just hope the damage isn’t irreparable.

“Okay. Sure. Let’s do it,” I say apprehensively.

My agreement wins me a dimpled smile from Bennett, and my choice feels like the right one. “Really? Okay! How about I pick you up tonight, let’s say at Lucky Monkey? Seven thirty p.m.?”

“Tonight?” I ask. “I didn’t realize it would be tonight.”

“We could do tomorrow night if that works better?” Bennett suggests.

I’ll be exhausted after tomorrow’s podcast interview. If we do it tonight, I can use what I learn to craft better talking points and explain to him who I am before my identity is revealed on the podcast.

“Tonight’s fine,” I say.

Bennett exhales and smiles. “That’s really great! See you later.”

I wave goodbye, my breath catching in my chest. Saving Lunar Love is going to be like trying to grow peonies in the winter. And I’m no gardener.





Chapter 8





That night, Bennett picks me up from Lucky Monkey as promised. He drives us out past Pasadena in his old Ford Mustang convertible that looks like it should still be in the shop with its half-painted and patchy body.

“Is this car road-safe?” I ask, gripping the front of my seat. My waved hair lifts in the wind as we fly down the highway.

“Of course it’s road-safe,” Bennett says. “Just remember when you eject through the windshield, you want to go headfirst. You don’t want to slow things down because then there’s a chance you might survive. And you don’t want to survive something like that.”

I tighten my seat belt over my lap.

“That’s just to keep up appearances,” he jokes.

I run my hand over the cream-colored leather seat. “The article from earlier,” I say tentatively, “I’m sorry about that. That was a lot.”

Bennett casts his eyes in my direction and shakes his head. “You have nothing to be sorry about. Another article, a good one, came out shortly after, so in a way they kind of cancel each other out, I guess.”

“I’m glad,” I say, staring straight ahead at the stream of glowing red taillights.

We’ve passed three different exits when I start shouting out clues on traffic signs for where we might be going, but Bennett refuses to answer my guesses. Maybe he figures out what ideas to steal at a dumpling restaurant in the San Gabriel Valley or at an art museum. At this hour, though, museums are closing. I lean back against the car seat and search for stars against the October night sky. I only find the quiet appearance of the moon with a glowing half halo, its illumination gaining strength as the minutes pass.

Bennett taps his hand against his leg to an imaginary song, keeping his eyes safely on the road. When he slows the car and pulls into an outdoor drive-in movie theater, I’m slightly confused. Bennett pays for our tickets and is instructed by a man in a neon orange vest where to park.

“The drive-in? This is where you get your best ideas?” I ask disbelievingly as I watch cars line up in front of a massive screen. I’ve been tricked!

“I wasn’t kidding!” Bennett turns the wheel into our spot. “Movies help me get out of my own head. My thoughts are clearest here.”