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“Dinner’s free.”
“Drinks, then.”
“We have all-you-can-drink packages.”
His grin widened. “Then I guess your only incentive to join me is my company.”
“It’s not much, but I’ll take it.”
Being the talk of the town and getting bad press was what I called just another Tuesday, but since Cruz was used to being the golden child, I made an effort to be who I thought he wanted me to be when we arrived at our assigned dinner table.
My back was straight, my face serious, and I only laughed quietly whenever it was appropriate. I was determined not to cause him any reason for embarrassment for the rest of the trip.
More so because I wanted to stay on my family’s good side than wanting to impress Cruz, although it had to be said, the fact that he dropped about two grand and his undivided attention on me today did make me like him considerably more.
“How’s your shima aji?” he asked tightly, stealing a glance at me.
Small as heck, I wanted to reply.
This time we went for the exclusive dinner, not the all-you-can-eat or the complimentary dining room, and the food was miniature. You’d find more on a Jerry & Sons plate after the customer was done with it.
“Exquisite, thank you.” I dabbed the corners of my mouth unnecessarily with a napkin. “And your white quail?”
“Good.” He gave me a cynical once-over, knowing very well I was faking it. “Wanna share the dessert assortment?”
I tried to think what a girl like Gabriella would reply to that. That’s what he liked, right?
That’s the company he willingly chose.
“Thank you, but I don’t eat sugar after six,” I murmured.
“You destroyed a sleeve of Oreos last night. On the bed. Then I caught you munching on the crumbs this morning.”
I felt myself flushing pink. “I’m trying to get better about it. I have to watch my figure.”
“Your figure’s perfect.”
“Is that a medical assessment or a personal one?”
“It’s a goddamn fact I wish wasn’t true because it has been distracting me since my years on the high school football team when you’d come to Rob’s games. What’s gotten into you?”
Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.
That was a lot to unpack, but he delivered the barb with such ease, with an almost mocking smirk, I forced myself not to pry the subject open. I couldn’t afford to argue with him publicly and/or kiss him.
Not tonight.
“I’m trying not to cause you any trouble.”
“By being the most boring woman on planet Earth?”
“By trying to act like someone you’d actually be seen with,” I snapped, my nose and eyes feeling unbearably hot with humiliation.
I wasn’t going to cry, of course, but I was feeling all kinds of weird about trying to pacify a man who wasn’t my father or Bear. It went against my religion or something.
He groaned, flagging down our waitress.
“My only issue with you is that you like to dress the part people in town gave you. The rest of your personality is amusing to me. I can handle crazy. I speak the language fluently.”
