AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I found a dried coffee spill on my work uniform I hadn’t noticed before putting it on, my name tag was missing, and I burned my morning toast while working on my skirt’s stain.
Damn stains.
Then there was Miguel, who begged to stay home from school, claiming he was still sick, even though he’d acted perfectly healthy the entire day before and he didn’t have a fever anymore.
So I was forced to put up with his arguing and begging and general butt-headedness after I told him he was going to class.
Becoming the big, bad sister, I had to get him to eat his breakfast, check his sugar levels, clean his insulin pump, put on fresh school clothes—and underwear—brush his teeth, find his book bag. And his shoes. It was a wonder I didn’t have to argue with him to take every freaking breath he inhaled.
Fourth graders could be so irritatingly helpless when they didn’t want to do something. Then again, so could adult men.
Because, during all that, I had to contend with Papá, reminding him to take his pain pills and to call the insurance company today and look for some new kind of work, even though I knew he would do none of that. He was just going to sit in front of the television and feel sorry for himself. He refused to apply for disability, too proud to seek help from the government, and he was too embarrassed to admit how much pain he was in, meaning he’d ignore his pills too.
So he was just going to continue to let everything rest on my shoulders.
Not sure how to deal with him, I shifted my focus to my brother and demanded to see his homework folder to make sure he was caught up before I dragged him from the apartment and walked him to class.
After I watched him disappear inside the school, I hurried on ahead to Trudy’s, only to learn Mary Louellen had quit, bless her heart. And since she’d been scheduled to work today, I had to both waitress and bus tables through my entire shift. So seeing Diego stride inside with a cocky grin and a massive bundle of ink red roses at the end of my shift was just the cherry on top of my already shitty day.
Scowling, I pointed sternly. “No. Get those fucking things away from me. I have told you, over and over again, I don’t want your roses. There’s no chance in hell I’ll ever go out with you. You’re starting to piss me off with this, Diego.”
The joke totally would’ve been on me if he’d shaken his head and answered, “But these aren’t for you, chica.” I would’ve felt like a complete fool and probably raced from the café like the idiot I was. And still, I totally would’ve preferred that twist to the story.
Except, no. The roses were for me after all, just as the last two dozen before them had been, and he still wanted a date.
“But, darling.” He swept toward me and spread his arms wide, smiling even bigger as if he enjoyed my resistance. “There’s no possible way for you to know if we’d suit each other or not unless you go out with me.”
Folding my arms over my chest, I stood rigidly by the counter where I’d just taken an order from a couple of teens.
“Don’t you dare tell me what I can or cannot discern for myself, you asshole. I have eyes and ears and a reasoning brain to think with. I can use my own powers of observati
on to make up my own goddamn mind, thank you very much. And I will never have any use for thieves, liars, braggarts, or players. Now get away from me before I call you in for harassment, buddy.”
As the wide-eyed teens bobbed their attention from me to Diego and back to me again, avidly watching our show, Diego slowed to a stop in front of me, his smile slipping. “Why do you call me such things, mi reina? I am wounded.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh please. I called you that because you are that. I know very well you don’t work in the filming industry. Like you told me. Or live at Preston Estates. Like you told me. You actually work there. I saw you with my own eyes, waiting tables.”
His grin dropped completely. When he opened his mouth, probably to fill me with more lies, I held up a hand. “And guess what else? I know you had to steal money from someone else’s wallet to pay for those roses.”
Eyes flaring with surprise, he glanced at the bouquet in his arms.
“The fact of the matter is, Diego, if I wanted to date a liar and a thief, I’d pick a better one than you.”
Uninvited, a vision of the man from last night flashed through my head. His dry, biting wit, his sardonic glances, that sexy, unapologetic quirk in his full, soft lips.
Damn. Why was I thinking about him?
So not cool.
In front of me, Diego eased forward warily as if approaching a rabid animal, and he tentatively placed the roses on the countertop next to me. “You’re not having a good day.” He sent me an uneasy smile. “I see this now.” Straightening away from me as he left the flowers behind, he held up a finger and nodded. “I will come back tomorrow.”
“No, you won’t.”
He winked and turned away.
Rolling my eyes, I sighed and dropped my hands to my sides as I glanced at the flowers. It completely eluded me as to what prompted this man to return time after time again to woo me. There were at least three billion other women in the world, half of them prettier and two point eight billion of them nicer. What the hell made him want me so much?
Curiosity and a little flattered part inside me prompted me to reach for the card tucked in a nest of baby’s breath. I plucked it free before turning it around to read the back:
