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“I know what fiancé means. Thanks for the thesaurus definitions. My question is, how did this happen in less than two weeks when you usually took a month to choose the color of your bed sheets?”
Mei here was exposing my secrets for the world (or underworld) to see.
“I’ve decided to combine all colors and sleep on black bed sheets from now on,” I said.
“Interesting, and I assume Gabriel here had something to do with that,” Mei said, inspecting my medieval husband/present-day fiancé.
“Sometimes, the best answer is the easiest one. Why fret over color when you know the darkest one includes all of them? It might be a matter of using your imagination,” said Gabriel with a mischievous smile while ogling at me.
I felt an awkward mood arising, so I asked Mei, “Did you order your coffee yet?”
“Not yet,” Mei said, still inspecting Gabriel with a raised eyebrow.
“Would you like me to order?” asked Gabriel.
“No,” we both said in unison.
“Mei has her signature coffee order no one can remember except her and the poor barista who is forced to take it,” I said.
“I’ll go order and be right back,” Mei said.
“Try me,” said Gabriel, smiling.
“If you insist,” said Mei incredulously. “I’d like a Venti latte with one vanilla, two pumps of caramel syrup, three pumps of mocha, one pump of raspberry, double blended, with low-fat whipped cream, caramel, and mocha drizzle.”
“Very well,” Gabriel said and turned toward me. “An Americano for you, my love?”
“Yes, please.”
Gabriel went to the barista and in one breath requested Mei’s order and mine and did it with utmost ease. Both of our jaws dropped.
“He’s not joking around, I see. His memory is superhuman,” Mei said, but also became suspicious. “Since when do you mingle with dark and sexy characters?”
“Dark and sexy?”
“Don’t you see it?”
“See what?” I asked.
“He’s hiding something.”
Chapter 15
Ifelt for a moment Mei could see right through me. “I mean, he’s not quite your regular guy, and he’s Romanian. Maybe it’s a cultural thing,” I said, trying to deflect.
“No, it has nothing to do with who he is or whatever he’s doing. It’s something different that I can’t pinpoint at the moment, but something tells me he’s not being truthful.”
Maybe you’re being overprotective after what happened with Elijah?” I asked.
“He’s nothing like that creep, but I’m still getting a weird vibe from him,” she said, looking aimlessly out the window. Then suddenly, she woke up from whatever she was thinking. “I know. He’s a con artist.”
“What? No, he’s not,” I said.
“Then how do you explain the whole proposal in a week thing? And this…Oh my, this ring is amazing,” Mei said, ogling at my engagement ring. “I’m telling you. Something is fishy. He’s too good to be true.”
“Would you believe me if I told you we had history?” I asked.
“No way. You knew him before the trip?” Mei asked.
