“Well, whatever it is, I like it. It’s nice to be treated like a queen for a change.”
“I don’t know who you’ve dealt with in the past, but that’s changing now.”
I can’t see her fully through my periphery, but I can feel the shift in her demeanor. Her voice becomes timid, subtle. “With our fake dating arrangement?”
Fake as it may be, I mean it. “Yes.”
“Right. Speaking of my chariot, wherever you’re taking me to, we are going to need to discuss the rules and expectations, since we don’t have much time until the wedding and we didn’t do much talking back at Hummingbirds.”
“How much time do we have?” I ask, stopping in front of the entrance, letting her off my back.
“The wedding is in one week. You seriously have no idea how much you’re saving me. My dad has been on me about settling down forever. At least this will get him off my case for the time being,” she says, taking in our surroundings. “A club? You didn’t get enough dancing in before?”
“Yes, but they have some of the best food carts inside. I figured we both could use something to eat. And if we so happen to dance some more, I could think of worse ways to spend my night.” I open the door for us. “After you.”
Upon entering she sees the pastelillo cart, which is why I chose this place. Squealing, she taps at my arm. “I can’t believe you remembered.”
It’s not lost on me how cruel this feels. This is the first connection I’ve had with someone in a long time, and it’s not real.
Right?
CHAPTER 20
SARINA
“Good, aren’t they?”
I nod my head enthusiastically about to take another bite of my pastelillo.
“Best in the city. Just don’t tell Tino I said that.” He lifts his finger to his mouth.
“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” I say with a laugh that Tomás echoes.
“Okay, phew. Guess we’re good at keeping those.”
His laughter draws to a close as does mine. Our moment ruined by indirectly addressing the many elephants lingering in the room with us. Between our initial meeting, our new work situation, and him being Lorena’s brother, it feels as though the list keeps growing longer by the day.
Chewing the last of my food, I bring my hand to my mouth, shielding it to speak.
“Listen, I–”
“Hold that thought,” Tomás says before scurrying off to the stand we ordered from. It’s not until he comes back with a napkin and small cup of water in hand that I realize some of the guava from the pastelillo dripped onto my dress.
He dips the napkin in the water, saturating it just enough, and then looks up at me with the most adorable puppy dog look in his rich brown eyes. “You want me to or would you prefer to do it?”
The stain is conveniently located below my waist. A damn near perfect bull’s-eye above my center.
“You can do it.”
“Are you sure?” His gaze doesn’t falter from mine.
I uncross my legs and lean back placing both elbows on the table. “Yes, it’s not like you haven’t made what’s underneath the fabric wet before.”
His jaw grows visibly tight as he begins to address the mess I made.
It doesn’t take much to get him flustered. I can tell there’s so much he wants to say but he’s holding back, which appears to be his default.
A minute or two more float on by, and once he’s rid my dress of the guava, replacing it with a giant, rather inconveniently placed wet spot, he tosses the napkin in the trash.
