Tori peered at her reflection in her car’s visor vanity mirror. At least she didn’t look too sleep-deprived for her breakfast not-date with Emery. She hardly knew what to think about it, but she wasn’t going to miss it. Yes, it made her more than a little sad that she jumped at the slightest invitation from her crush, but she was beyond caring about her pride, so long as he was there. She took a deep breath and got out of her Lancer, glancing around out of habit, taking stock of the cars, people, entry and exit points. Though the area around Classic Rides wasn’t as heavy on crime as some areas in Miami, the IHOP was squarely located in a not-so-great armpit of the city, but she got along well enough. Emery’s Tesla was parked in front of the restaurant. A couple of tree trimmers stood on the sidewalk, eyeing the car. Good luck, guys. The Tesla was a piece of fascinating work. Emery had let her kick the tires a bit a time or two, probably to get rid of her. Her fingers itched to lift the hood and get her hands dirty.
