“On that one we hit you with white rice, Dominican style red beans, beefsteakCriollowith sautéed onions, caramelized sweet plantains,Mi Abuelita’sslaw and avocado slices.”
Carmen let out a squeal from behind me at his description.
“If you want to go with Cuba, you wantLa Lupe,which is named aftermyfavorite Latina singer.” He preened at that. “It’s comes with killer Cuban black beans, Cuban shredded beef, caramelized sweet plantains, and hot and spicy pickled onions.”
He smiled again and leaned on the counter a little bit when he was done. I was already sweating and hadn’t even orderedmy food. “We also have the tostones topped with queso crema, cilantro pesto, and sweet-and-sour pickled shallots.”
This time I could not help myself and a moan escaped my mouth. “I love tostones.”
That rakish smile was going to be my undoing.
“That’s what I like to hear. We also have a sweet corn pudding with a passion fruit glaze for dessert. It’s a small offering, but these are some of our most popular items and a great intro to our food.”
He lifted an eyebrow at me in question. “So, did I tempt you with anything?”
If only you knew, “gas station guy.”
I nodded and tried once again to sound unaffected. “Definitely, everything sounds delicious. I’ll have the Lupe and an order of tostones.Oh, and the Yerbabuena lemonade.”
He kept staring at me with a weird smirk on his face, like he found me infinitely entertaining. After a second, he started jotting down my order.
“Excellent. Can I get your name so we can call you when the order’s ready?”
I widened my eyes at his perfectly reasonable question. This elicited yet another semi-filthy smile.
I had no idea what he found so damn amusing. “It’s Jude, Jude Fuller.” Why did I give him my full name like a dork?
“All right, Jude Fuller. I got you.” Those winks of his were lethal.
Carmen stepped up to give her order after shooting me an amused look, and immediately asked, “Can we do this in español or what?”
“Claro, aquí se habla español.”
Another wink.
I was starting to wonder if he had a condition.
“¡Excelente!” Carmen held up her hand to him for a high five—so extra—and proceeded to tell him what she wanted in rapid fire Spanish. When she was done she jerked her thumb over her shoulder.
“Just put my order under Jude’s name.” She held up her phone at him. “I need to make a call, so he’ll get mine, too.”
Liar.
He beamed at her and gave me a thumbs-up.
“It’ll be ready in a few, guys.”
With that he turned his attention to the next people in line.
Once we were out of earshot Carmen started talking excitedly, her hands all over the place. “See! I told you he was Dominican! I knew a man so fine could only be produced in the DR.” She smacked her lips. Loudly. “He sure was staring you up and down, too. You’re so funny.” She cackled and shook my arm. “And of course he thought you were adorable. Oh man, if the food’s good, we’re making this a regular stop.”
I angled my head in genuine confusion, because adorable wasnotwhat I’d been going for. Finally, my brain came back online, and there were questions.
“Wait, how did you find out he’s Dominican? You were only standing there for like thirty seconds.”
“Oh Jude.” She shook her head, looking at me like I was an idiot.
“I got a full report! His name is Ernesto, but everyone calls him Nesto. The truck is his, he drove it up from the city yesterday and is planning to be here for five or six months. If the business does well, he may stay longer. His mom lives here. She works for Cornell. Has other family here, too; they came up from the city like ten years ago.” She was actually a little winded by the time she finished her report.
