People burst into applause, like kernels of popcorn exploding in a microwave bag, and Jesse laughed so hard she had to brace herself against the counter. I pretended to launch at her, and she pretended to run, her shoulder brushing mine. Instead of flinching or running, she just straightened back up, wiped a happy tear off her face, and smiled at the brownish-greenish foam that clung to my upper lip. “You’re hired,” I growled into her face. For a second, it looked like she might just wipe the foam off with her thumb. For a second, it looked like old Jesse would bulldoze her way into the room.
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