Page 82 of Unscripted with Mila

I grinned. “I know. Manny’s food is fabulous. I love it here. Great meals, I never get bothered, and the margaritas are delicious.”

“And powerful.”

“That’s why I only had a small one. Yours was full size.”

“Aiden would go crazy. He loves Mexican, and this fusion is out of this world. How did you find it?”

“He used to have a food truck close to where I lived. His dad is Mexican, and his mom is Asian. He combined both for some of his dishes, and I was addicted. I think I lived on his ginger beef tacos for a month once. I ate there all the time. Cheap and delicious. We got to be friends. When he found this place, I fronted him the money to buy it. I’d had my break, and I thought he deserved his. I have never regretted it. He is always busy, but he fits me in anytime I want.”

I saw the look that passed over her face, and I chuckled. “Not other women, Shortcake. I usually come alone and often eat in the kitchen. He has a big family table in there. I brought MJ here once early on. She hated it.”

“What is to hate?”

“She likes fine dining. Or, in other words, expensive. Places she can be seen.”

“Ah.”

Our waitress, Manny’s daughter, came to the table. She grinned at the empty plates. “Good, right?”

I laughed. “Amazing as always, Carmen. Our compliments to the kitchen.”

“Dad is bringing dessert.”

“Great.”

A few moments later, Manny appeared, sliding his deep-fried ice cream and homemade churros onto the table. I eyed the pots of chocolate and the dulce de leche, already knowing Mila would love both. I introduced them, and he smiled, sitting beside me.

“You are too pretty and smart to be an actress,” he said with a droll wink. “What are you doing with this guy?”

“I heard he knew the best Mexican-Asian fusion restaurant in the state,” she replied. “I’m done with him now.”

Manny laughed and I grinned.

“I’m working with Mila right now. But you’re right. She isn’t an actress.” I smiled at her fondly. “She is the most real person I know.”

Manny smiled. “Good. You deserve real, my friend.”

We chatted for a few minutes, and he clapped me on the shoulder and left after kissing Mila’s hand. She hummed in delight after tasting the desserts, and we polished off the platter. I loved watching her eat. Enjoy the food. Most of the women I knew nibbled on salad. Sipped their wine as if they had to make it last a month. Mila relished her food. Delighted in the tastes and textures. I liked how her delight made her look. Soft, rounded—a pleasure to touch. Not flat.

“Aiden and my dad would fly to California just to eat here. My whole family would.”

“Will I meet them?” I asked, strangely nervous. “Your family, I mean.”

She looked at me over the rim of her glass. “I expect so since you’ll be in the complex.”

“How will I meet them?” I asked.

“How? I don’t understand.”

“Will I meet them as ‘this is Nicholas Scott, the actor,’ or—” I swallowed the sudden thickness in my throat “—‘this is Nick, my, ah…’” I flicked my fingers, unsure how to complete the sentence.

She smiled and took my hand. “I will introduce you however you’re comfortable with, Nick.”

“I’m yours.”

“Then I’ll introduce you like that. ‘This is my Nick. My boyfriend.’”

A word shouldn’t make me smile so hard, but that one did.