Lauren had already told Gene and Kam that she’d be eating with “a friend,” so when the meeting broke up and Gene said, “Lunch at Itzel’s?” a blip of frustration slipped through her.
“I’m in,” Kam said. “Lauren?”
“I’m eating with someone else,” she said, glad Trent had remained seated in the back row, his attention on his phone. But the man was a police officer, and she didn’t believe for a minute that he didn’t hear her. “But we need to meet up and talk about electrical for the Wainscott job,” she said to Kam. “And let’s calendar another session for after the applications are due for this festival.”
Kam always had to come do some wiring to make sure the community center didn’t burn to the ground during the festival.
“Will do.” Kam started toward the door with Gene. “You’ve got my numbe
