“And then stop by Hot and Cold to get some of Sadie’s spicy apple cider.”
“Aw, thanks. We’ll be open in just a few.”
Joan shared a nod with Beth-Ann. She spied Wren’s jet-black ensemble inside the truck. Beth-Ann’s tatted, shaved-headed best friend was her total opposite on the outside, but both were all kindness inside. The supportive community of food truck owners was not something Joan had expected when they got into this business venture. A happy surprise.
This walk with Sadie was her favorite part of each workday. It was so normal. Two people greeting other people they’d befriended doing something they loved. Something good.
They reached where Hot and Cold was parked just north of Allegria Tower. Its deep-pink-and-blue logo popped from the light-blue background. Sadie grinned up at Joan, warming her in that pure way. How had a former Supervillain gotten lucky enough to find a woman who loved her for being boring old Joan Malone?
They shared a quick kiss before opening the side door. The lingering scent of pressed sandwiches mixed with a slight tinge of all-natural cleaning products hung in the truck.
Mark was efficiently dicing an onion at the prep counter. His sandy-blond hair stuck up and out in bedhead chic. “Did you get my tomatillos?” he said.
“Yes, chef,” Sadie teased. She set her shopping bag on the small stainless-steel worktop.
Joan set hers down and began to unpack the fresh veggies her brother needed for his cold topping creations. “Gruyère cheese was on sale, so I got extra.”
“We don’t buy ingredients because they’re on sale,” Mark said. “We buy them because they’re high-quality.”
“It’s the kind you like, not a bargain item.”
Sadie stepped back from where she stashed her tote bag by the driver’s seat. She paused beside Mark, eyebrows knit. “Isn’t that what you were wearing yesterday?”
Mark glanced down at the gray, short-sleeved polo and jeans that actually yes, he had worn yesterday. “It would appear so.”
Sadie shook her head, though she was smiling. “And what was this gentleman’s name?”
“Uh… Eddie? Drake? Orlando?”
“Markie, you said you’d at least remember their names.”
“I probably remembered it last night.”
“Maybe,” Joan snickered.
“I’m pretty sure there was a D in it,” Mark said.
Sadie giggled. “Oh, there was a D in it all right.”
Mark burst out laughing and gave her an elbow bump. “Nice one.”
“Next time, will you at least remember their name?”
“I make no promises.”
Joan chuckled at them. She snagged a clean apron from one of the low metal cabinets as the two most important people in her life joked about Mark’s romantic escapades.
Prep work zipped along smoothly—a well-oiled machine at this point. She got the flat-top and fryer going, Sadie started on her hot chocolate, Mark got the toppings in order for the day’s chosen sandwiches. A comforting routine.
She adjusted her trusty black-and-red Vector City Vultures baseball cap in place. Always a funny coincidence that her favorite team and her Spark suit had the same colors. Only that suit was now the property of the Superheroes. She kind of missed it. Or at least the anonymity it’d provided. This hat was her Food Truck Joanie persona. Like it would somehow shield her warming proteins and melting cheeses with fire from her bare hands.
“Hon, back me up on this.” Sadie bumped Joan with her hip.
“Always,” Joan assured her.
“You’re not even paying attention,” Mark said.
“I back Sadie up no matter what.”
