“Let me get you seated.” I motion for them to follow me. “It’s perfect timing. This is the table with the best view.”
Hector looks out the window and sighs. “I’ve missed that view.”
“How long are you staying?”
“Indefinitely,” Hal says.
My eyebrows lift. “Really? I thought you were settled in Vegas.”
Hector’s nose scrunches. “It’s just not for me.” He points at his brother. “It’s more his speed, but I think even he is ready for the quieter life. And like you said, I can handle the cold as long as I get to see my family. We saw Jackson briefly yesterday. He was at his parents’ place in St. Paul when we stopped by.”
“How are John and Margaret?”
“They’re doing well. They’ve joined the pickleball craze and are trying to talk Hal and me into driving into the Cities at least once a week to play with them.” He shakes his head. “I told them I’ll save my chances of breaking my wrist with my Harley. I think they’ll be coming up this weekend.” He points at his brother. “Remind me to tell Juju that if she hasn’t heard by tonight.”
Hal nods. “Will do. Speaking of Juju,” he says as he waves his menu, “which of her desserts should we try today?”
They both look at me expectantly.
“Uh, I’m not…we don’t have Juju’s desserts. Britney is the pastry chef here and?—”
A sharp voice cuts in behind me. “He’s already got my Brussels sprouts on his menu. I wouldn’t give Camden Whitman my baked goods if he were the last man alive.”
I turn slowly.
Juliana’s standing behind me, arms crossed, and wearing a bright red lipstick that shoots straight to my dick. Her eyes are full of fire and maybe a bit of panic now that she realizes everyone in the restaurant heard her.
I fold my arms and stare her down. “Well, well. Someone’s true wishes are coming out.”
“Excuse me?” Eyes narrowed, lasers fired.
“You heard me.” I lean close to her and lower my voice just enough that only she can hear me. “You want me to eat your goods. I heard your favorite is pound cake…”
She makes a noise I’ve never heard from her. Something between a gasp and a shriek. When I step back, her face is bright red.
“You are—” she hisses. “I can’t?—”
She turns on her heels and walks away, straight into the glass door that’s so clean it’s transparent. She holds a hand to her head, arm flinging out in frustration.
I rush toward her to see if she’s okay, that old instinct taking over, but she glares at me and yanks the door open before storming toward her car.
And then she shocks me by turning around and walking back into the restaurant.
She marches past me to Hector and Hal’s table, never making eye contact with me, and hands her grandpa something.
“Thank you, dear. Sorry you came all this way. Are you okay?” he asks gently.
“I’m fine,” she says softly.
And she’s gone as quickly as she stormed in.
I walk back to their table, a bit shaken by all that anger.
“I’ve never seen her like that,” Hal says.
“Me either,” Hector admits.
And then his eyes meet mine.
