AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Lyla: “Cool! Consider it done. See you soon.”
I close the message window and hurry to the shower. Afterward, I find my new suitcase with all the new “girly shit” Marcus bought me. Remembering his excitement from our shopping trip, I start to smile. It’s easier today for some reason.
I slip into a thin yellow dress with long sleeves and a tie that wraps around my waist. It falls to mid-thigh, and I grab a pair of white flats and put them on. I apply a little makeup and grab my phone, put it in my purse which I find by the door, and head downstairs.
The house is completely quiet, and I wonder which room is Cole’s. Which is stupid because I don’t need to know that. I see his note and grab it along with the key and head out into my hometown. I just pray no one here knows what happened in Chicago.
I’m greeted with the glorious California heat. Oh, how I’ve missed it. The gorgeous blue sky is almost cloudless. Seagulls fly toward the beach up ahead, diving for French fries and taco scraps. The walk will be too short to the boardwalk, and I’ll have to Uber to the studio so I’m savoring every minute.
Some of the Mission district buildings have been remodeled into upscale diners and boutiques. All it’s missing is a full-scale restaurant like Warehouse 39, I think to myself, before I push it back into the far corners of my mind. Never to be thought again. I hope.
Passing the Ferris wheel, I find Stan and his taco stand in the exact same spot I first saw him when I was eight years old. A skinny, hungry little girl who was too scared to ask for a taco. He called me out and fed me every day until I met Charlie and Marcus. The old man is sporting a gut and gold chains these days but doesn’t look a lot different from that day almost twenty years ago.
“What’s up, Stan the man?” I say with the biggest smile I can muster.
“Oh, holy hell, it’s Lyla Turner as I live and breathe. You know I wake up every day hoping I live long enough to see you again one day,” he says as I come around the cart and wrap my arms around his belly the best I can.
“It’s nice to see you too, old man,” I say with a squeeze.
“What’s a guy got to do to get a hug like that?” a deep familiar voice says behind me. I release Stan, and we both turn and look. Cole, in all his plaid and man bun glory, is standing in front of the taco cart, smiling at me. This smile is different. Playful and friendly without the heat of before. Which is kind of disappointing.
“How you doin’, Cole?” Stan says and starts pulling out tortilla shells and making Cole’s tacos, knowing the man’s order by heart. That’s weird.
“This here is my girl, Lyla; she was raised on my tacos and now she’s a famous city chef in Chicago with her own fancy restaurant. Can you believe that?” He points to me, beaming with pride. “And the sweetheart still comes to see me of all people. How’d I get so lucky, darlin’?”
Stan hands Cole his tacos but looks at me, smiling. I roll my eyes and smirk. My heart drops. I have to correct him and tell him I’m not a chef anymore. “Actually, Stan—”
“You are a lucky man. You must be so proud of her. Beautiful and she cooks! That’s a lethal combination,” Cole interrupts me and winks.
I roll my eyes back at him, and Stan hands me two beef tacos. Just the way I like them. “Thank you,” I say softly, smiling up at his rosy cheeks and patting the old man’s belly a couple of times. I turn to look at Cole, but he’s turned around and started walking back across the street.
“Hey, Stan, I have to run, but I’m back home for good so I’m going to come see you all the time now,” I say, backing up and slowly rounding the cart.
“Well, that’s great news. You just made my whole year. Lyla!” he says loud enough so I can hear as I walk away. I wave back and then turn to cross the road. When I finally catch up to Cole, I’m embarrassingly out of breath so I just hit his shoulder, gasping for air and laughing at myself.
“You okay there?” Cole says, looking down at me as I’m bent over trying to catch my breath. Even without air I notice how hard and sculpted his bicep is.
“Hey,” I finally spit out.
“Hey,” he says, looking back at me, amused.
“Thanks for the save back there.” Jerking my thumb over my shoulder toward the cart, I right myself and fall in step beside him.
“Yeah, no problem.”
“I’ll tell him the truth tomorrow,” I say more to myself than to him.
“Or next week or never. Your secret’s safe with me.” He shrugs.
“Well, as much as I wish never was an option, I’m sure news will travel, and I’ll have to face the music eventually.”
“Lucky for you today is not that day.”
I just nod and look over at him. “You get lunch there often?”
“Almost every day. No one makes fish tacos like Stan, am I right?”
“You are right. He is the best. Always has been.”
