Ally nodded.
Kitty Sue stopped and looked between the pair of us. “Oh no, what are you two up to?”
I answered quickly, “Nothing. As for my cheek, Dad, I got hit in the face with some books falling off a shelf. Lee came over and got me so he could take a look at it and put ice on it.” I walked to the sink and showed Dad the ice bag, then, for some reason, I leaned my shoulder into Lee.
Don’t ask me why I did this. I just didn’t like the way my Dad spoke to him and I didn’t like to see Lee’s face close down like that.
“You have ice at Fortnum’s,” Dad said.
Oopsie.
This was true.
“Lee’s ice is better,” I replied.
Lame. I was losing my touch.
“I bet Lee’s ice is better,” Ally muttered and both Kitty Sue and I gave her a killing look.
Hank and Lee were exchanging glances. Hank sighed and rocked back on his heels. Lee uncrossed his arms and draped one around my shoulders. I didn’t even try to decipher what the Lee/Hank glance was all about, it had been a scary enough day.
And anyway, all I could think was that their coming over meant I was off the hook with the Lee Nap. It had been getting pretty flirty there and I needed to restore control.
“Where are we going to dinner?” I asked happily and Lee’s eyes slid sideways and his look made a definite promise of “later”, shattering any illusions of my being off the hook.
“Sushi Den,” Ally answered.
At those two words, Ally and I both immediately threw up our hands, index finger and pinkie extended in the famous, devil’s horns, “Rock On!” gesture and squealed, “Sushi!”
“We’re not having sushi,” Malcolm declared.
“We decided this. We’re having sushi,” Kitty Sue said.
“Sushi’s shit,” Malcolm stated.
“Sushi’s good for you,” Kitty Sue returned.
“Mexican is good for you,” Dad said.
Kitty Sue rolled her eyes.
I went to the bag excitedly.
I loved sushi, but I loved Sushi Den even more. It was one of my favorite restaurants in Denver. It was on Pearl Street, next to Pearl Street Grill and across from Stella’s Coffee Haus.
Sushi Den was made out of cement and glass, they had hostesses filled with attitude who, with a look, could make lesser mortals feel small and even suicidal and they had the best sushi I’d ever tasted. They never took reservations because they were always wall-to-wall people. Ally and I went to Sushi Den at least twice a month and had an ongoing battle to out-attitude the hostesses (with hostesses winning).
“Did you bring me a Sushi Den outfit?” I asked Ally.
You didn’t go to Sushi Den in jeans and cowboy boots. Sushi Den demanded something else entirely. Clothing… black. Shoes… stiletto. I had a full section of my closet devoted to Sushi Den clothes.
“You bet your ass,” Ally replied.
* * * * *
I woke up in Lee’s bed again and my first thought was sake.
I didn’t even like sake but I drank it with Ally at Sushi Den because that’s what you had to do.