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Shrimp fried rice. Extra shrimp, no peas, with an egg roll tucked into the other side of the container.

I looked up at him. “You remembered?”

“Remembered what?”

“That I don’t like peas. And I always get extra shrimp.”

“You told me.”

“I know.”

“So why wouldn’t I remember?”

I looked down at the food again.

He said it like it was obvious.

Maybe to him, it was.

I picked up my fork.

Across from me, Ellis started opening his own container.

“Thank you.”

“Welcome.”

We ate for a while without talking about anything important.

He told me about a client who wanted family pictures but apparently hated every location Ellis had suggested. I told him Naomi spent half the morning pretending she wasn’t interested when I asked how she enjoyed meeting Tasha.

His fork stopped halfway to his mouth.

“What?”

I smiled.

His eyes narrowed. “Is this about my sister?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

I laughed and took another bite.

“Leave it alone.”

He shook his head. “Whatever.”

I smiled into my food.

He’d figure out Naomi was interested in his sister eventually.

For now, I wasn’t telling him.

We fell into another stretch of conversation, and I stopped thinking about how easy this felt.

I just let it be easy.