Page 110 of A Dish Best Served Hot

Lola blinked, confused. “I’m sorry?”

“If this side becomes a functional theater, there will be noise late at night. I’m not going to curb the normal operations of a theater to accommodate these kids’ bedtime.”

Really? That’s what he was thinking? She couldn’t help but think that this was a huge mistake. Her thoughts must’ve been clear on her face, because Saint jumped it.

“We will obviously take soundproofing into consideration during renovation. We’ve already talked about having the bedrooms at the far side of the building with the lesser used rooms for both the theater and shelter in the middle.” Saint motioned to the stairs. “Should we take a look around, so we can tell you a bit more about our plans?”

He shook his head. “I toured the building yesterday. It needs a lot of work, which we both know will cost an exorbitant amount of money.”

Lola felt her hopes dashing. He wasn’t going to do this. He was too cold and unfeeling. He was going to turn them down flat. “I understand, Mr. Bailón—”

“Why are you doing this?” he asked.

Lola’s irritation spiked. This man had but one more time to interrupt her before she gave him a piece of her mind, superstar millionaire or not. “These kids deserve a safe place. Not just a place to sleep, but to be their true selves and be surrounded by people who will accept them and build them up. I will do whatever it takes to provide that for them.”

He didn’t react to her at all. He simply turned his attention to Saint. “What about you? You work for the contractor not the community center, why are you doing this?”

Lola winced inwardly. She didn’t think Chord Bailón was going to feel moved by Saint’s desire to make up for the Raven Realty project.

The side of Saint’s lip curled. “Love,” he said. “I gave it up seventeen years ago to fight for a country that doesn’t love me or those I care about. It left me disillusioned, lonely, and unable to feel hope. Then Lola showed back up.” He looked at her with such raw emotion on his face that she couldn’t help reaching over and gripping his hand.

He squeezed her hand. “I have watched her pour her love into everyone around her over and over again. She’s done that for the teens and staff at El Hogar, she’s done it for my daughter, and she’s done it for me. She considers everyone in this neighborhood a loved one and she will go above and beyond for them. She made me open my eyes and look beyond myself and my family.” He looked back at Chord Bailón. “You want to know why I’m here, it’s because of her. She inspires me to be a better human being, the type who doesn’t just show up in times of need, but every day.”

Lola’s heart lit up like a shooting star. So many people only saw her as a difficult troublemaker. Someone who was never happy and always trying to rock the boat. To know that Saint, of all people, understood her motivations and was inspired by her...well, it touched a place inside her that no one ever had. Saint had always been able to reach her like no one else. He knew her better than just about anyone, the good and the bad. She loved that he’d never shied away from either. “Saint,” she whispered, emotion making her throat tight.

Saint looked ready to pull her into his arms, but a loud throat clearing brought them both back to reality. Right. There was a musical superstar standing next to them waiting for them to explain why he should spend his money on their project. She’d forgotten about him.

They turned to look at Chord Bailón, who stood next to them with his phone in his hand. He looked as serious and as distant as he had the whole time.

She wondered what the hell had happened to him that not even witnessing two people bare their hearts could break his stoicism.

“When I begin a project, I give it my all,” he said. “I need to know that those involved are in it for the right reasons and will do the same.” He waved his phone around. “I just texted my lawyers. They’re going to put in an offer for the building and draw up a rental agreement for the community center.”

Lola was shocked. “Wait. What? You’re going to do it? You’ll buy the building and rent part of it to El Vecindario?”

For the first time his emotionless facade cracked and his lips quirked the tiniest bit. “You may be the only person I’ve ever met who is more intense than I am, and I mean that in the best way possible.”

She could only stare, dumbfounded. “Uh. Thanks.”

“We’ll be in touch,” he told them before shoving his phone in his pocket and swaggering away, no handshake or goodbye.

The moment he was out the front door, Lola spun to face Saint. “We did it!” she exclaimed.

“We did.” He let out a laugh of disbelief.

He turned to her. “I love you, Lola León, and I want to be with you, but I want you to know for sure that I’m going to support you in everything that you do. I will never again make you choose between being with me or doing what you need to do. Your goals are now my goals. Your fights are my fights. I will be at your side on the frontlines.”

She shook her head not in disagreement but in amazement that he was willing to do this for her. “Saint, I want to be with you too, but I don’t want you to always be afraid for me and I don’t want you to put your own mental health at risk to be at my side. I will never stop fighting for what I believe in, but I know now that I don’t have to lead the charge in the field, ready and willing to burn everything to the ground. There are other ways to fight and I want to try them.”

“Lola, I know how much being out there means to you and I can’t tell you that I won’t worry, but I’m working on it. I’ve started therapy and I plan to keep going.”

“I love that, but I need to show you that I’m willing to be a true partner to you too and that means compromise. I’m going to work on strategically dismantling oppressive systems without a battering ram and flamethrower.”

“Unless you really have to.”

“Unless we both agree that I really have to. Together.”

“Together. I love the sound of that.”

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