Nydia shared a glance with Jasmine. “My mother is a hairstylist.”
Evangeline patted her hair. “Do you think she could work wonders with this mop?”
Nydia nodded. “My mother’s reputation has preceded her. She’s known in the neighborhood asla reina del cabello, and that translates to the queen of hair.”
“Please don’t tell me I have to go to New York to get a good cut?” Evangeline teased as she pushed open the door at the rear of the restaurant. It had stopped raining and had cooled down enough for diners to eat alfresco under a large white awning.
Nydia was preempted from answering when she saw Lamar standing off to the side of the hostess station. When his jaw dropped there was no doubt he was shocked to see her. The young girl, she assumed it was his daughter, did not see her father’s reaction to her as she and Evangeline’s girls hugged one another, all talking at the same time.
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth when he met her eyes. “I didn’t expect to see you again this soon.”
Wow!she mused. How had she forgotten how sexy he sounded? His voice was deep, smooth, and velvety. And the cadence was slow enough for her to hang onto his every word. “I didn’t expect to come down this soon,” she replied.
“Mr. Pierce, your table is ready.” The hostess’s voice shattered the man’s warm spell that had pulled Nydia in and refused to let her go.
Lamar turned to the woman. “We’re going to need a larger table. I made a reservation for five, but now there are seven of us.”
“Make that eight,” Jasmine added. “Cameron’s going to join us.”
The hostess studied the seating chart on the podium. “If you can wait a few minutes I will have a server set the banquette for you.”
* * *
Lamar approached Nydia, his gaze lingering on her coiffed hair. The chic style was perfect for her small, round face. She’d applied only a hint of makeup to her eyes and mouth, a mouth he’d kissed and longed to kiss again. He’d returned to New Orleans, unable to clear his head of everything he’d shared with Nydia. It was the first time in his life that he cursed having total recall.
Lamar thought of Nydia as a chameleon. There were times when she looked like a fresh-faced college coed, but could easily transition into a stylish, well turned-out young sophisticate, and she was the latter today with her chic hairstyle and white silk blouse and tailored cropped black slacks and Tory Burch flats. The designer’s shoes had been a favorite of his late wife’s.
“When did you get in?” he asked quietly.
“Friday night.”
Lamar’s brow unconsciously furrowed. “You flew in during the fog?” It had rained for a couple of days and once it ended a heavy mist had blanketed the city, lowering visibility to one-tenth of a mile.
Nydia nodded. “Yes. Once we touched down it seemed like an eternity before my driver arrived at the hotel.”
“You’re staying at the LaSalle?” She nodded again. “How long are you staying?”
“Mr. Pierce, your table is ready.”
The hostess preempted Nydia’s reply. “Thank you.” He beckoned to Kendra and the twins. “Come on, girls. Let’s sit down.” Cupping Nydia’s elbow, he escorted her to the banquette in a corner of the crowded, popular restaurant, Evangeline and Jasmine following.
He waited until everyone was seated on the U-shaped upholstered bench before sitting next to Nydia. The three girls sat together, giggling uncontrollably. The two sisters-in-law whispered to each other, laughing softly as if sharing a secret.
Lamar leaned over and tapped his daughter’s shoulder. “Kendra, this is Miss Nydia. She’s the one who made thepasteles. Nydia, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Kendra.”
Kendra clapped a hand over her mouth. “You really made them?” she asked through her fingers.
Nydia smiled. “Yes. I made them with my friend.”
“What are past-tell-is?” Evangeline asked.
Jasmine placed a hand on Evangeline’s arm. “They’re tamales filled with meat and root veggies. Puerto Ricans usually serve them around Christmas or when they have a large celebration. Talk about delicious.”
Kendra moaned audibly. “They were the bomb! Miss Ramona and me ate more than Daddy.”
“If they were that good, then you should bring them to the school’s International Week dinner,” Taylor said.
“Last year I had an empanada for the first time, and I was mad I didn’t take more than one because all the boys were dogging them,” Morgan stated, frowning.
