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“I don’t want to talk about the fire. When are you coming home?”
“I am home, and by the way—your sister and Edmund are hilarious. Edmund is scared to death of you and your brothers, but he’s actually a lot of fun.”
Fine. Edmund is fun. He’s good for my sister. I see that now. But I don’t care about that right now. All I care about is seeing Olive’s face.
“Come over,” I demand. “I want you. I want to spoon all afternoon.”
“Oooh. Would you like me to bring over some dinner? I make a mean frozen pizza. I’ll try not to burn it.”
“Dinner? What time is it?” I’m so out of it, I didn’t check the time on my phone before I called.
“It’s a quarter to seven,” she says. “I’m starved.”
“Quarter to seven? Crap!”
I overslept. The summer sun still filters brightly into my room, making it seem earlier than it is. Carlos is supposed to meet me at my office in fifteen minutes. I hobble out of bed looking for my shoes.
“Is a quarter to seven a bad time for spooning?” she quips. “I could maybe fit you in at eight-fifteen.”
“No. I need to see you. Meet me at the restaurant. I have a meeting in fifteen, but I can get it ver with in three minutes.”
I’ll show Carlos how to get around on my computer and let him have at it. Thank goodness Enrique had the foresight to digitize everything for all the restaurants and put it on the cloud. I’m confident Carlos can find what he needs. Then I can discuss it with him later—when I have a clearer head.
“Are you sure?” Olive asks. “You have a lot going on right now. I can see you tomorrow.”
“I can’t wait until tomorrow, Olive. I need to talk to you, and then I need to do other things to you. Preferably now.”
“Rrrowr, tiger. So demanding.”
“Get used to it, woman,” I tease.
I can hear her shuddering breath over the phone line. If I could only touch her right this second, she’d internally combust in two point five seconds.
“I um… better get ready then,” she rasps.
“Fifteen minutes, Olive.”
I pull into the restaurant parking lot exactly fourteen minutes later—which isn’t bad, considering I decided on a shower after doing the sniff test, brushed and flossed my teeth to a shine, and shaved. When I park my car, I see her standing near the front entrance. She’s radiant in the pink-orange glow of the setting sun, her wild hair flapping in the breeze, and the brilliant smile spread over her angelic face.
As our gazes lock, my heart thunders in my chest. Suddenly it’s all clear to me. She is my future—and I want to run as fast as I can to begin my new life with her. Or at least take long, swift strides. With a laser focused intent to sweep her into my arms and kiss her to kingdom come, I go to her, almost gliding on air. My gaze trained only on her. I don’t notice the men until they’re in my path, crowding around me.
“And here I was thinking, you’d left me for another man,” says the dark-haired one with a really nice looking dress shirt. He’s Churro. I’d remember that snaggletooth grin anywhere. “I have to admit, I was getting a little bit jealous.”
He slings his arm over my shoulder and the other two guys close in. I know the big guy as Roach. He’s jamming something into my lower back. I’m ninety-eight percent sure it’s not one of those massagers from Costco, so I don’t even think about struggling. My eyes slice to Olive, willing her not to come this way. She seems confused, but not alarmed. From her point of view, it must look like I’m just chatting with a few guys. And I want to keep it that way. For her protection, the less she knows, the better.
“I was just out of town for the holiday,” I say. “Barbequing… fireworks.”
“How patriotic. Too bad fireworks can be so dangerous.”
I cut him a look. “Like setting a building on fire?”
He probably used Cheetos as kindle.
“Oooh, yes. I heard about that. What a shame.” He clicks his tongue. “It would be a travesty if something like that should happen again.”
“Listen, I don’t know where Pancho Ortega is. He won’t answer my calls.”
Churro slaps my shoulder and gives me a hard squeeze. “I have no more use for Pancho Ortega.”
