Page 35 of Bad Blood Wolf

“Stop being an idiot,” she said. It sounded fun. And silly. And like something she could never do.

He reached over and rested his hand on her thigh. She leaned back in the seat, but she didn’t push him away. Stupid Tornado. He never gave up.

“This still isn’t a date.”

He just grinned. Fucker.

They pulled into the parking lot of a shabby little building on the outskirts of town, that Jasmin had never noticed before. There was a small sign—La Cabañero. Fine South American Cuisine.

It was late for lunch, but the parking lot was still half-full. She liked that already. South Americans worked on a slower timeframe than Americans, and they liked their leisurely meals.

Then they got out of the car, and the smell of the food hit her.

Grilled meat and spices, and a hint of home. It hit a place in her heart she hadn’t realized was there.

Brody glanced sideways at her, as if sensing something of how she felt. He caught her hand and twined his fingers with hers.

This time she didn’t pull away.

“Don’t know if you’ve been yearning for Brazilian food,” he said, “but Toni does some great dishes. Also Argentinian specialties, Chilean… lots of meat, and traditional food from different cultures. You’ll love it.”

She did love it. She loved Toni the minute she met him. He was a portly little man with silver hair who looked like he enjoyed his own food. He came out of the kitchen the minute he learned Brody was there, exclaiming in a mixture of English and Portuguese, and kissing Brody on both cheeks.

He fussed over Jasmin, pinching her cheek and telling Brody she was beautiful. When he found out she spoke Portuguese he was thrilled; when he found out she was a chef he was in ecstasy.

He insisted on bringing them a selection of what seemed like everything on the menu, explaining to Jasmin his ‘secret’ ingredients and asking her opinion on everything.

“I am thinking to add more chili pepper to this filling,” he said, handing her a fresh, hot, deep-fried pastry stuffed with spicy meat. “What you say? Yes? No?”

Jasmin filled her stomach and gave her opinions. Brody sat back and watched, chiming in every now and then. He seemed distracted, though, glancing at his phone every few minutes where it lay on the tabletop.

About halfway through the meal it vibrated. Brody picked it up, glanced at the notification, and dismissed it.

“Anything important?” Jasmin asked.

He shook his head. “Just a friend.” He put the phone down, but a certain tension had left him.

Sunday, she remembered suddenly. He’d said he needed the money by Sunday night, and it was Sunday. Was that whoever he needed to give it to, messaging him? Dealer? Bookie? Blackmailer?

Brody was talking to Toni, tasting a new dish, laughing at something the older man said. There was no chance to ask him.

And she had the feeling he wouldn’t tell her, even if she did ask.

That knowledge made her feel suddenly cold inside. She didn’t really know this man. He was a stranger.

Finally, when they were full and the restaurant was nearly empty, Toni said, “Dio mio, it is good to see you, Brody! And your lovely lady. It has been too long. When you going to leave that stuffy office and come cook for me, so I can retire?”

Brody laughed. “You’ll never retire, and I’m not that good.”

“Ah, well, semi-retire, then,” he said. “I am tired, and Rosa needs me at home.” He turned to Jasmin. “My wife,” he said. “Her health is not always so good, you see.”

“I’m sorry,” she said sincerely.

He patted her hand. “Getting old sucks,” he said, eyes twinkling. That made her laugh.

Brody went off with him to haggle over the bill. Presumably Jasmin wasn’t supposed to hear these delicate negotiations, because she was a female and this was a date.

Men.