from my daughter and my doctor to rest for a few days. But now I’m back and I’m ready to feed my folks. Now who’s ready for some lumpia?”
Soft cheers boom from the small crowd.
Every time she hands a customer their order, she beams. Not an ounce of hesitation is traceable in her cheery attitude. She’s a fitting balance to my nervous energy.
She taps my shoulder. “Isn’t this great? So many people want to try our food.” She looks up at a customer as he takes a bite of chicken wing. “How is it? Good?”
He nods, sauce smeared across his lips. “So, so good, Tiva. I already voted for you ladies online.”
She gives him a thumbs-up while I offer a soft “thank you.” The Maui Food Festival website has an active poll for attendees to vote on their favorite eateries. My hand itches to grab my phone out of the pocket of my jeans and check the results every five minutes. The Hungry Chaps truck is all the way on the opposite end of this row. I can’t see them, which means I can’t gauge how they’re doing. Checking the results as they come in would be an easy way to satisfy my curiosity.
Instead, I clench my fingers into a fist and resist. Obsessively checking the poll two hours into the festival will do nothing other than send my blood pressure to the mesosphere. We have the whole rest of the day left to work, and I can’t lose myself to distraction. My only goal for the next six hours is to cook the best dishes possible so every person that eats our food votes for us.
Penelope saunters up to the booth, her wide smile so bright it rivals the unrelenting sun beating above.
“Nikki! You’re kicking some serious ass!” She holds up her phone to me. “So many people are raving about your food on social media. They’re hashtagging Tiva’s left and right!”
Mom turns as soon as she hears her name, beaming when Penelope shows her all the photos of our food that people have been posting to Instagram and Twitter.
“You’re killing it, Tiva!” Penelope high-fives her before ordering a halo-halo. “It’s so hot and I’ve been craving this.”
I dispense a generous serving of crushed ice, ube, sweetened beans, coconut, and evaporated milk into a paper cup and hand it to her. She tastes a spoonful, closes her eyes, and moans. The “mmm” she lets slip sounds more like a growl than a hum. Leaning over the counter, she whispers in my ear, “Your boy toy is in the zone. I went over to wish him luck. The look on his face was intense.”
A high-pitched chuckle falls from her lips. All I can do is say, “Oh wow.”
She leans back, keeping her tone low. Tipping her spoon at me, she gives me a knowing smile. “I told him I was coming over to say hi to you, and he got all flustered. His cheeks got pink and everything. He’s so into you. It’s adorable.”
When I glance up above Penelope, I freeze. Callum stands front and center, just a few feet from me. I wasn’t expecting to see him at all today.
Penelope twists around to sneak a peek, then turns her megawatt smile back at me. “Looks like someone misses you.” She winks before walking into the crowd.
Callum approaches the counter, his hazel eyes on me, making me feel like the only person on the planet.
“Can we talk?” His face is a mess of worried lines.
“Is something wrong?” I manage to sound mostly composed.
I notice he hasn’t shaved since I’ve seen him. The scruff on his cheeks looks like the beginning of a beard. I don’t even like beards, but on him it is scrumptious.
He runs his tongue along the glorious thickness that is his bottom lip. “I need to tell you something.”
Leaning around him, I hand a waiting customer their order of wings.
“Can it wait?” I say, my eyes veering in every direction other than in front of me.
I’m not strong enough to tell him no when he’s standing so close, his body heat skimming my skin, his gaze making my knees go weak.
“No. I need to talk to you now.”
I glance around. No one else is at our truck right now, making this our first lull of the day. It also means no one is paying attention to our exchange, which I’m silently thankful for.