“You trust me?” I lift a brow.
Her lips part with a smile. “Yeah.”
When our server comes by with chips and salsa, I order two dishes for us to share. Or she can pick whichever she wants. Honestly, she can eat them both. I’ll happily sit here as long as we’re together.
Twenty-Four
Cora
There’s an endless supply of chips and salsa at my fingertips and Isaac sits across from me looking like the best dessert. Could my weekend get any better?
I can’t remember when I’ve had a night like this. One that’s full of promise and fun.
“What’s that smile for?” he asks, catching me eating him up with my eyes.
“Nothing,” I lie. “I’m just really happy.”
His gaze sweeps across my body, a flirtatious grin widening his own smile. “Good.”
We stare at each other a long moment. One that should be awkward, but isn’t at all. He bites his lower lip and I imagine doing the same. Naked. Together. Back at my place. A giddy, swoony feeling expands in my chest. I press my lips together, but I can’t be the first to look away so I don’t. We must look ridiculous, but Isaac doesn’t seem to mind.
As if he knows I won’t give up on our flirty staring contest, he finally breaks.
I shoot him a wink.
He chuckles, shakes his head, and takes a long drink from his bottle of Dos Equis.
I reach for a chip and load it with salsa. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you. Are you still taking classes?” Before when I stopped in the coffee shop, he was often doing homework or studying for a test. It hits me now that I haven’t seen him do either.
He nods and takes a sip of beer before answering. “Yeah, I only have two classes right now because of the intercession. But in a few weeks, I’ll have a full load again.”
He works, goes to school, and raises his son. “How do you manage all that with David and work?” He must possess some super hero qualities.
“Most days I don’t.” He smiles but there’s a touch of pain beneath the surface he can’t hide. “Manage it all, that is.”
“I’m sure you do better than you give yourself credit for.”
“I think you have to say that.”
“Why?” I crinkle my nose. “Because you assume I’m nice.” I shake off the patriarchal vibes the word nice gives me. “I’m professional, yes. Polite when necessary, sure. But I’m always honest over being nice, and I wouldn’t say something merely to inflate your ego.”
A grin takes over Isaac’s face and he gives me a long look, as if he’s gauging the truth of my words. “Good.” A rumble of laughter shakes his chest. “You know I have two sisters, and a mom who doesn’t put up with my shit. I don’t expect any less from you.”
Our server returns with platters full of food. Shrimp ceviche. Fish tacos in corn tortillas. Rice, beans, pico de gallo and slices of avocado—the small feast takes up most of our table. She hands us each a plate, and places two more bottles of Dos Equis at the table.
I don’t even know where to start. “This looks so good.”
“Oh, it is. Here.” Isaac scoops food onto my plate. “You have to try this. I know I’m biased, but everything here is good.”
I smile at his enthusiasm, and how comfortable he appears. If it were anyone else, I probably wouldn’t appreciate my date making me a plate of food, but with Isaac it’s not coming from a place of control. He obviously wants to share this with me. His food. His culture. His childhood. I wonder when I’ll be brave enough to do the same.
We fall into easy conversation while eating, and he wasn’t lying. Everything tastes amazing. I catch a few onlookers from other tables, but from my vantage point no one pulls out their phones to snap covert photos. For once I’m having a meal in public without being interrupted by autograph seekers. It’s refreshing. Unexpected. Like stepping foot into a world I’ve always wondered about. Tonight, I’m just a woman on a date with a man. Isaac is the local celebrity here.
“Isaac!” An older man approaches the table, dressed in black pants and the same shirt as the wait staff but wearing an apron. “Qué onda?”
“Victor.” Isaac smiles widely, scooting out of the booth to pull the old man into an embrace. “Padrino! So good to see you.”
“Isaac! I started to think you forgot about us.” He pats Isaac’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you. And who is this lovely señorita?” The man winks and flashes me a smile.
I slide out of my seat to stand by Isaac.
Isaac presses his palm at the small of my back. “Cora, I’d like you to meet the best chef in all of Easton Heights, Victor Moreno.”
Victor holds out his hand, grinning and giving my hand a firm shake. “Always the charmer, this one. It’s nice to meet you, Cora.” If he recognizes my movie star status, he doesn’t let on. The normalcy of it all, being introduced to an acquaintance not for personal gain or business connections, speaks to a longing I’d all but forgotten. I understand my place in the world, what fame and money bring, and I’ve accepted it. It’s been a blessing and provided more than I ever imagined. But being here tonight with Isaac has given me something I didn’t even know was possible.
“The food is amazing,” I say, gesturing to our mostly empty plates. “Thank you.”
“Gracias. I’m so glad you enjoyed the meal.” Victor smiles as if he appreciates my answer and turns his gaze back to Isaac. “I need to get back in the kitchen, but give my best to your family. Don’t be a stranger.”
“Sorry. It’s been so long,” Isaac says, his shoulders tensing with the words.
“We miss you around here. That little boy of yours too, he must be getting big.”
“Yeah. Turned three a few months ago.”
“No kidding?” Victor shakes his head. “Bring him by during the week and he can play with my granddaughter. Maybe give you some time to add to your collection?”
“Maybe.” Isaac sighs, shaking his head. “I know I need to get that stuff out of your hair. I’ll work on finding a place for it soon.”
“No rush.” Victor glances around the room. “I owe you. It can stay as long as you need.”
“Gracias, Victor.”
The older man turns his gaze to me. “It was lovely to meet you, Cora. Take care of our Isaac. He’s a good one.”
Oh, I plan to take care of him tonight. Sensual fantasies threaten to invade my thoughts and I bite back my smile. “He is, isn’t he.”
Victor winks at Isaac. “See what a good wingman I’d make?”
“Get outta here, old man.” Isaac laughs and shakes his head. “You’re married.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Victor waves over his shoulder, heading back to the kitchen.
“He seems really nice,” I say after we’re back in our seats.
“The best.” Isaac brings his gaze back to mine. “I worked here in high school. He always encouraged me to pursue art. Helped me approach my papá about it when I decided to apply to art school. His son and I were classmates. Used to be friends when we were little.”