Page 29 of The Callahan Effect

Far more than I cared to admit.

He found me within seconds, and the easy smile that spread across his face erased every sensible thought still lingering in my head.

"Sorry if I kept you waiting."

I shook my head before tapping out a reply.

Not at all. I only got here a few minutes ago.

The corners of his mouth lifted.

"You're a terrible liar."

I shrugged innocently before adding, Hungry?

"Starving."

I gestured toward the arena exit. Once we were outside beneath the warm Spokane sunshine, I pulled out my phone.

I know a little Italian place about ten minutes from here. Nothing fancy, but the food's incredible. It overlooks the river if you'd like to see a little of Spokane.

Mason's expression brightened.

"I'd like that."

I'll drive.

"Sounds good to me."

The drive into downtown Spokane took barely ten minutes, yet it gave Mason his first real glimpse beyond the university campus. Evergreen occupied its own corner of the city, insulated by tree-lined streets and academic buildings that could easily make someone forget there was an entire community surrounding it. As we followed Riverside Avenue toward the heart of downtown, the skyline gradually opened around us. Historic brick buildings stood comfortably beside modern glass offices, cafés spilled onto sidewalks beneath colorful awnings, and people moved at an unhurried pace that made the city feel welcoming rather than busy.

I caught Mason studying everything through the passenger window, his attention shifting from the river appearing between the buildings to the small boutiques and restaurants lining the streets. There was an unmistakable curiosity in his expression, reminding me of someone discovering a place they'd only ever seen in photographs.

When we stopped at a traffic light, I unlocked my phone and typed out a message before holding it toward him.

I've lived here my whole life. Every time I think I've seen everything Spokane has to offer, I find another place worth coming back to.

"Sounds like you're trying to convince me to stay."

Maybe I am.

The light changed, and I pulled away from the intersection, following Riverside Avenue as it curved alongside the river. Mason continued peering through the passenger window, taking in everything from the restored brick warehouses that had become cafés and galleries to the green parkland stretching along the waterfront. Every now and then his attention settled on another landmark—a bronze sculpture, a historic building, or another stretch of sparkling water—and I found myself seeing my hometown through fresh eyes.

A few minutes later I eased into a parking space beneath a row of towering maples overlooking the river. Even before the engine stopped, Mason was looking toward the collection of small restaurants lining the street, each occupying one of the beautifully restored buildings that had stood there for well over a century.

I climbed out, waited for him to join me, and together we crossed the sidewalk toward a weathered brick building tucked beneath the Riverside Bridge.

The restaurant occupied the lower level of a century-old brick building overlooking the Spokane River. From the street it appeared hidden, the entrance tucked beneath a wrought-iron balcony draped with flowering baskets overflowing with red and white petunias. A hand-painted wooden sign bearing the name Rossi's Trattoria swung back and forth above the doorway, giving the impression the little restaurant had been welcoming customers for generations rather than trying to attract tourists.

As soon as we stepped inside, the aroma of garlic, basil, fresh bread, and simmering tomato sauce wrapped around us like a warm embrace. The dining room wasn't large, perhaps twenty tables altogether, with polished timber floors, exposed brick walls and shelves displaying dusty wine bottles alongside black-and-white photographs of Italy. Soft instrumental music drifted unnoticed through the room, adding to the relaxed atmosphere without ever demanding attention.

The hostess greeted me with immediate recognition before leading us toward my favorite table beside the wide windows overlooking the river.

Mason paused for a moment before sitting down.

"This place is incredible."

I smiled and showed him my answer.