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“It is. I’d take José up on the lobster taco. It makes you feel a little faint when you eat it.”
“From how much you paid for it?”
He laughs. “From how insanely good it is.”
“I could drink three mermaid sunrises for the price of that taco.”
His eyebrows draw together. “I don’t mind.”
And now I’ve upset him somehow. Maybe he’s getting the idea that I think he’s cheap.
I go for honesty. “I’m not used to eating at fancy places. I grew up in ... hard circumstances.” I let out a half laugh. “I know I’m staying someplace fancy, but I didn’t pay for it. My sister’s husband did. So maybe I gave off the wrong vibe. Everything I’m wearing was five dollars or less at a thrift store.” I’m about to keep going when he reaches out and squeezes my hand.
“Hey. Does this place make you uncomfortable?”
“No, I ...”
“You worked incredibly hard last night.”
“And you gave me all the tips! I only deserved half!”
He holds my gaze, and I will myself to shut up. Why can’t I be like the girls at the bar back home, forcing guys on fancy dates and bragging about how much they spent?
I mean, I know why. Nobody who grew up like I did can spend stupid amounts of money on things that should cost less. But I would like a smidge of their girl power right now. Their ability to splurge.
“I’d like to treat you, Tillie.” The way my name comes out of his lips makes me shiver. “It’s your vacation, and I took a day of it away from you. Let me show you a place you wouldn’t go to on your own.”
He’s right. “Okay,” I say. “But I can’t order a lobster taco.”
“That’s fine. I will and you’ll promise to take a bite.”
“Deal.”
The server arrives and Gabe orders a carafe of mimosas and his lobster taco. I get the egg and toast.
He grins. “It’s going to be different today working without you.”
I sip my water. “It’s going to suck and you know it. I can’t believe you do the whole thing by yourself. What if you run out of ice? Or need change? Or twenty people show up at once?”
He shrugs. “I handle it. And I plan ahead. The only real challenge is if I need a day off. I lose the day’s sales.”
“But probably it’s not quite enough work to justify a second server.”
“Bingo. Last night was unusual.”
“Maybe we could do it again.”
The mimosas arrive, and he pours us each a glass from the carafe. “A booze brawl rematch?”
“Sure. Or some other competition. And you should think about events. If you did something once a month, you could really goose your income.”
He sips his drink. “Just one problem with that idea.”
I grip my cold glass. “What’s that?”
He meets my eye, and even though I know what’s coming, I can’t stop the way my whole body feels like it’s swooping when he says it.
“I won’t have you.”
