“No Señor, no necesita dinero.”
She places her hand over his, guiding the money back to him.
“Por favor?” he asks, pushing his hand back towards her, clearly wanting her to take the money.
“¿Sabes lo que esto te comprará?” she asks, finally accepting the money.
“¿Qué?”
His eyes light up, clearly curious about what else his precious dollars might be able to buy him.
“Dos rebanadas de pastel,” she says, nodding to the selection of cakes and sweet pies on the countertop.
“¿Dos?”
“Sí, comes un poco de sopa. Entonces comeremos pastel juntos.”
I can’t believe that she’s offering to bring him soup and then sit with him so they can eat cake together. The princess offering to sit and eat with a homeless guy… I’m so fucking confused.
“Muchas gracias,” he says, before heading to a different booth.
After watching him walk away, she looks back to us.
“Sorry about that, now, what would you like?”
Elizabeth
“Muchas gracias,” Señor Perez says, before he heads towards his usual booth.
I’m glad he accepted my suggestion of eating cake together. I can’t bring myself to charge him for the soup knowing it’s likely the only hot meal he has each day; it breaks my heart to think about what he does on the days I’m not working here.
Granted, having the money taken from my wages isn’t great for me financially, but I figure what’s the cost of four bowls of soup a week compared to knowing that he’s at least had a hot meal and somewhere safe to sit for a couple of hours. After watching him walk away, I look back to the table. I’d almost forgotten it was the guys… and Diablo.
When I first walked over, seeing him sitting at the booth made my heart stop for a moment. They didn’t know I work here so it must be a coincidence, but still, my plan to completely avoid him after making the biggest mistake ever at Donovan’s party has been ruined.
Why the fuck did I kiss him? He’d been so vile, saying all that shit about Donovan, I hate him. Was I really that drunk? Maybe I have more of a praise kink than I thought if all it took was him telling me I was fucking perfect, even if he did mean it sarcastically. Not to mention that when he kissed me back it was fucking amazing… Nope. No, no and no, we are not going there.
I shake myself internally before smiling at the guys.
“Sorry about that, now, what would you like?”
After taking Señor Perez his soup, making sure Pretty Boy and Slim both have their slices of cherry pie, Tank has his loaded burger and fries, and Diablo has his black coffee, I grab two slices of the apple pie and join Señor Perez at his table.
We can’t talk about anything too in-depth; my Spanish is nowhere near that fluent, but we can make small talk, and it passes the time easily. As we finish, I know he’ll be getting up to leave shortly, so I gather our plates and say my goodbyes, telling him I’ll see him on Monday. I head towards the staff area but when I put the plates on the dishwasher’s trolley, I feel a presence behind me.
“It’s not every day you see a princess clearing up the plates of a homeless man.”
I swear I can hear the smugness in his voice, and it makes me want to punch him, but the only way I’m going to get out of this is if I keep my cool.
“What do you want, Diablo?” I ask, not hiding the irritation in my voice or giving him the satisfaction of looking at him.
“I just thought we should probably have a talk.”
Why does his voice have to be so fucking sexy, has he always sounded like this, or is it because I still have the memory of him standing so close to me, telling me I’m fucking perfect.
“Oh yeah, about what?” I ask, hoping I sound aloof instead of my voice betraying how much he’s affecting me.
He shifts forward so he’s pressing up against my back, luckily, we’re away from the eyes of the others so they won’t see. He chuckles, his breath warm against the sensitive skin on my neck.
