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The afternoon sun warmed the park bench where Ben fidgeted with a paint swatch, flanked by Melisa sipping iced coffee and Rob tossing acorns at a squirrel. "I’m slammed prepping for Monday’s audit," Ben blurted, crumbling the color sample in his fist. "But if I don’t repaint the living room before my landlord’s inspection—" Melisa’s cup hit the table with a clack. "You’re buying pizza," she declared, already shrugging into her denim jacket. Rob lobbed a final acorn skyward. "Three-hour job, tops," he grinned, snatching the swatch to examine sage green streaks. Gravel sprayed under their shoes as they cut through the park gates, Ben’s relief dissolving into laughter when Rob tripped over a roller tray waiting on his porch.
