Page 10 of The Fall Risk

He handed me one.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Thanks for the coffee.”

We sat in our chairs, pouring our drinks. He brought the straw to his lips and took a sip and closed his eyes. “This is nice.”

I smiled. It was nice. Izzy had good ideas.

“So, how do you like the building so far?” he asked, looking at me.

“I liked it more when I could leave.”

He snorted. When I didn’t say anything else, he cocked his head. “Did you know that we have terrible allergies because most trees in urban settings are male?”

I drew my brows down. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, it’s—” He stopped himself. “You know what? Never mind. So what do you do for a living?” he said, changing the subject.

“No, I want to hear about this tree thing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you can’t just drop some random piece of tree trivia on me and then bail.”

He laughed a little. “It’s just . . . Gabe told me I’d do this.”

“Do what?”

“Talk about trees. I do it when I’m nervous.”

“You’re nervous? Why?”

“You’re heavily armed.” He gestured to the bear spray, which I still had.

“Sorry, it’s my emotional support bear spray,” I said, putting out my lower lip.

He laughed.

“So tell me, male trees.”

“No, it’s stupid,” he said.

“It’s not stupid, I want to hear it. My allergies are terrible.”

The corner of his lip twitched. “Okay.” He sat back in his chair dramatically. “Every street in this city is a carefully cultivated allergen corridor.”

I nodded. “A hooking start, I’m listening.”

“Female trees produce fruit. Fruit falls, it makes messes, it attracts vermin. So most trees planted in urban areas are male. They put out pollen with no female trees to absorb it, so it ends up in the air instead.”

I gaped at him.

“It’s true.”

“That is botanical sexism,” I breathed. “Also, that would make a great band name.”

He chuckled.