"How did you know you wanted to be a fashion designer?" he asked, folding his hands in his lap. * * * Val chuckled, nudging him playfully. "Damn, Landon. Get it together."
She pursed her lips. "Had lots of practice. It came naturally to me!" *** He laughed. " Not possible!"
"Really? Why?" Arlo asked as the waitress returned with their drinks. "Do we know what we're ordering?" * * * She laughed wryly before shrugging. "Well, I'm living in a hotel. We're both not doing great."
Arlo gave her a reassuring grin before looking down at the menu. "I think I might be ready, but I've been here before. Cal?" * * * She glanced up, surprised. "No, you're not..."
She pursed her lips. "What would you recommend, then?" *** He looked down. "I really don't have anywhere else to go. And there's two rooms, so.. I'm a mess."
"Well, what kind of stuff do you like? Pasta? Salads? Soups?" * * * Val hesitated, her compassion winning over. "Would you... don't take this the wrong way or anything, but would you maybe want to come live with me for a while? You know, until you can find your own place?"
He nodded cheerfully. "Yep!" * * * "I mean, yeah. If you wanted to," she said casually, crossing her legs as she took a sip of her coffee.
"Me? I like spinach gnocchi. But I'm a little weird." * * * She paused, glancing up at him. "Wait, really?"
She raised an eyebrow. "I'll have literally anything else." *** He hesitated. "Unless you don't want me to.."
He rolled his eyes. "The ravioli's good!" * * * "No, it's fine. I'm just surprised you agreed to it."
The patient waitress gave them a grin before taking their menus. "I'll be back with that shortly," she said cheerfully. Once she had left, Arlo turned his focus back to Callie. "What were we talking about...? Oh, right. You sewed as a child?" * * * She shrugged. "Well, you've seen my room. It's a little on the smaller side."
"What kind of stuff did you sew?" he asked, crossing his hands. * * * She waved him away. "It's no big deal. We'll figure it out."
