Page 80 of Tastes Like Summer

I control my features, though, since all three girls follow close behind him.

The tension between the two of us is obvious—especially when Diana pulls away, breaking herself free from my hold. I try not to take it personally, to feel hurt, however… It’s easier said than done. But I get it. It’s obvious the girls know about us now, but we still haven’t discussed what a relationship together will look like or how they feel about it.

“Well, we were going to go to Michael’s new restaurant to have an early dinner,” Diana tells him.

“You have a restaurant?” He raises a brow as if he needs to see it to believe it.

“I do, actually. Just opened it yesterday.”

“You opened it yesterday, and you can just take your second day off like that?”

I grit my teeth. “This is an important day for the girls. I wasn’t going to let anything come between me and my family.”

Rodrigo doesn’t like my answer, hearing every single layer of subtext I managed to include in that statement.

“You already knew about the restaurant. I told you this morning,” Diana hisses at him.

Clearly he’s just trying to get a rise out of me, but I won’t let him win.

“You should come,” I tell Rodrigo, trying to be the bigger man, lightening the tone of my voice when I see Diana tensing beside me.

“Yes, Papi, come!” Emi cuts in.

Rodrigo scoffs. “Of course I’m going to come. I’m here to see my daughters.” Ironic, since he doesn’t even address them when he speaks. Instead, he keeps his narrowed eyes on me. “The real question is whether we’re going to accept your plan or not, not the other way around.”

“We? Excuse me? Going to dinner after the talent show was something Diana, the girls, and I agreed upon weeks ago. Before you even got here. So, yeah. It is this way. You may join us.”

“Papi.” Cami tugs at her father’s hand, but he barely acknowledges her.

Diana puts a hand on my chest, her eyes pleading when she says “Michael, please. The girls,” she whispers glancing nervously at where Cami and Emi stand, their faces devastated.

Immediately, I feel like shit. Because I care about them, and they don’t need to see me and their father argue, they don’t need to see their mother caught in the middle. I mean, for fuck’s sake, we haven’t even sat down as a family to discuss what me dating their mother means, and we’re already fighting.

I need to reel it in, even if Rodrigo is a total asshole.

Filled with irritation, I take a deep breath, slap a smile on my face, and state “Let’s go eat, then.”

I stare down at the beautifully plated tomato, cucumber, and feta salad in front of me with a sense of despair. It sounds like a simple enough dish, but something about the vinaigrette Michael created and the quality of the ingredients he used made me fall in love with it when I first tried it last night. Today, though, I can’t appreciate the way the rich cherry tomatoes’ flavor bursts in my mouth, or the freshness of the cucumber and its satisfying crunch. I can’t relish in the sweet and tangy dressing that had my tastebuds wanting more of something so simple yet beautiful. And I know I won’t even get to enjoy the entree and dessert I ordered, either. There are no words to describe how amazing last night’s dinner was, or how excited I was to have more of Michael’s amazing food with our girls, and now it’s been ruined by my ex.

My ex who cannot stop making snide comments or remarks.

My ex who keeps trying to belittle the amazing work Michael and Lexi put into this endeavor by using backhanded compliments like “cute restaurant” and “the food is so simple” and “did you guys run out of cash, or did you mean to decorate the place like this?”.

My ex who hasn’t spoken to his daughters all summer but tries to gaslight us all into thinking there was nothing wrong and he was just “busy.” Luckily, none of us buys it—not even the girls, I don’t think.

My eyes flash to Michael, whose muscles are wound so tight it’s a wonder he can even breathe. His eyes are on his plate as he grits his teeth while we are all forced to listen to the Rodrigo show.

“…So anyway, after that weekend Elizabeth and I spent in Palm Springs, we decided we should visit the West Coast more. So I was thinking you girls—Cami and Emi—should come on a trip with us the next time we go.”

“Whoa, hold on.” I say, raising a hand. “Elizabeth? I thought your girlfriend’s name was Katie.”

Rodrigo purses his lips and takes a sip of his drink before responding. “That didn’t work out. Katie grew a bit too… attached.”

I scoff. “So who’s this new woman, then?”

“Just someone I met through work. She’s an intern through our company’s MBA program.”

“An intern? Rodrigo, really?”