Shanice wrinkled her nose. “Yuck. Why do men ask that awful question?”
“I’m sorry. Do we?”
“So many times.”
“Maybe because we can’t believe it when we find an incredible woman like you who’s single, and we genuinely want to know. I know I do.”
She felt a little guilty. The truth was, she didn’t want to talk about why she wasn’t in a relationship, but sitting in the quiet ambiance of La Cocina Patagonia, with a glass of red wine and a handsome man who looked as if he genuinely cared about her answer, her resolve softened.
“I haven’t been in a relationship in a while. My last one ended abruptly, and I’ve been single ever since.”
“I see,” he said slowly. “Are you still heartbroken over him?”
She shook her head vehemently. “Hate I’d wasted my time, to be honest.”
Brown eyes met umber eyes across the table.
“Relationships aren’t easy.”
“No, they’re not,” Shanice agreed.
Marco reappeared with a waitress trailing behind him and holding a tray on her shoulder.
“Your appetizers are here,” he said.
The young woman lowered the tray and Marco removed a white dish and set it carefully in the center of the table. “These are two of our meat empanadas, which are legendary on the strip. You will not find a better empanada anywhere. And this is our ceviche.” He placed oversized martini glasses filled with fish and shrimp in front of each of them. “I’m sure you’ll be very satisfied with your choices. Can I get you anything else?”
“Nothing for me.” Shanice looked across the table at Vicente.
He shook his head, and Marco and the waitress left.
“I’m going to be full off the appetizers alone,” Shanice remarked. She bit into one of the empanadas and crossed her eyes at the delicious flavor. “Mmm, he’s right, this is so good.”
“So he didn’t steer us wrong so far, eh?” Vicente bit into his.
“No, he did good.”
“I guess I’m on my way to impressing you,” he said.
Shanice’s lips broke into a smile. “I guess you are.”
7
Cruz checked his watch as he waited for Shanice to return from the restroom.
Dinner had been exceptional. He had wolfed down his steak and lobster, and Shanice had danced in her seat as she devoured a meal of grilled steak topped with jumbo shrimp served with a side of vegetables.
Over the course of the meal, they’d discussed books and poetry, but every time she tried to learn more about him, he deftly turned the conversation back to her. He wondered if she’d had any idea Dennis was married. She’d seemed genuinely upset about the end of their relationship, but that didn’t mean she was being completely honest. He’d been working covert operations long enough to know that people were good actors.
Shanice came toward the table, her buxom build causing a few male eyes to follow her across the floor. Out of nowhere, a surge of jealousy made Cruz clench his fist. He had no claims to this woman. This was simply a job like any other, but the thought of other men imagining her naked the same way he was irritated the hell out of him.
When an older man caught Cruz staring him down, he immediately lowered his gaze to his plate.
Standing, he said, “I already paid the bill. Ready to go?”
“Ready,” Shanice said.
As they walked out, he placed a hand at her lower back, telling himself the possessive move was him simply playing the part he’d been assigned, but knowing full well there was a deeper meaning behind the act.
“Would you like to go for a walk?” he asked.
She glanced up at him, eyes bright with pleasure. “I’d love to.”
They said good night to the maître d’ and exited the hotel. They crossed the street to the side that bordered the water and strolled toward the more boisterous end of South Beach, where people showed off their sports cars and loud salsa music poured from the front entrance of some of the restaurants.
“What kind of work did you do before you started at the bookstore?” he asked.
“I’m not answering any more questions. I’ve talked about myself all night.”
“I don’t mind.” He really didn’t, as everything she said helped him put together pieces of the puzzle that was Shanice.
“I want to know about you.”
“We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you right now.”
“Nope. I’m not used to one-sided conversation, and I have questions, too.”
Give and take would be important to building trust between them. “What do you want to know?”
“For starters, why are you still single?”
In his line of work, lies and half-truths were the norm, but the key was to tell as much of the truth as possible so you didn’t have to remember a lie.
“Work,” Cruz answered.
He sat down on a bench directly across the street from a restaurant with its doors open and a blue light waving across the façade. Guests dined at the tables on the sidewalk while others loitered with drinks in hand around the outdoor bar that faced a bubbling fountain. The scene looked less like a restaurant and more like a discotheque.
Shanice joined him. “Do you like your job?”
Stretching his right arm along the back of the bench behind her back, he said, “I do. I’ve done it for years. It’s brutal, but interesting, and also very time-consuming. It doesn’t leave much time for a family.”
“Wow, I had no idea accounting was such demanding work. I know it can be grueling during tax season.”
Cruz nodded. “I stay busy all year.”
His work was intense and dirty, but enjoyable. Though he couldn’t imagine doing anything else, there were times when he wondered about his life choices. What else could he do with his skillsets and not have to start over?
Remaining in this line of work meant not allowing anyone to get too close. He couldn’t have a family. Who would want a man like him—a killer? To kill you had to practically be devoid of feelings and completely dedicated to the completion of the mission. Wives, girlfriends, and kids created a burden.
“The bookstore ebbs and flows. I love my job, too. Being around words all day is wonderful, and I get to share that love with people like you.”
She blushed and looked down at her lap.
All of a sudden the night took on a different air, and he wondered what it would be like to be on a real date with Shanice. What if this weren’t a job?
His chest tightened. That was unusual—for him to feel emotion toward anyone, particularly someone he was working for information. He needed to stay focused.
“Why did you ask me out?”
That shift in the air deepened, and he saw the longing in her eyes. He almost didn’t speak, but then he heard himself say, “Why not? You have an amazing smile, and you were always friendly every time I came into your store. You have a great personality, and tonight I’ve learned you’re easy to talk to.”
Nothing he’d said had been a lie. He meant every word. Shanice had a glow about her and an appealing personality that he could see easily drawing people in. She hadn’t been kind to only him at the bookstore. He’d seen her treat other customers the same way.