I wake up Saturday still smiling.
Which is new. I’m not a morning smiler. I’m a morning coffee
drinker who tolerates existence until the caffeine kicks in.
But here I am, 8 AM, face in my pillow, smiling like someone
who talked on the phone until 2 AM and doesn’t regret a
single minute of it.
I’m on my second coffee when my door buzzes.
Mia.
She’s holding two pastries and wearing the expression she
gets when she has information and has been physically
restraining herself from sharing it for at least twelve
hours. Eyes bright. Slightly too casual. Dangerous.
“I was in the neighbourhood,” she says.
“You live forty minutes away.”
“I was in a different neighbourhood.” She holds up the
pastries. “Can I come in or not.”
I step aside.
She’s through the door and on my couch and un
