Page 39 of A Dish Best Served Hot

He flipped his hand over and grabbed hers. “And what about the rest of them?”

She grimaced. “Well...that’s a little bit harder.”

“I figured.” He nodded, intertwining their fingers.

Lola stared at their hands. His big tanned hand with its small scars and fresh scratches swallowed her pale, freckled one with its chipped purple polish.

“We probably shouldn’t be doing this, right?” Saint asked, his gaze also on their hands.

They for sure shouldn’t be holding hands, but Lola wasn’t about to let go. “We’re friends now and friends can hold hands sometimes.”

His look said that he clearly didn’t believe her, but he also didn’t let her hand go.

She cleared her throat. “Back to the issue at hand. I think once Yara knows that you’re doing it because your tío needs the money for medical reasons, she will chill out a lot.”

He cleared his throat. “Actually, we can’t tell anyone about that. He doesn’t want anyone to know yet and I already broke my word by telling you.”

She could hear the guilt in his voice. Saint was the kind of guy who took keeping his word very seriously and she couldn’t help but feel a bit flattered that he’d broken it because he didn’t want her, specifically, to think badly of him. “I hope you know that not telling them is going to make this much harder. Everyone at El Hogar considers you a traitor to the neighborhood.”

“I know.” He paused. “But I can handle it.”

Warmth spread through her at his willingness to face animosity from all of her friends just to keep his word to his uncle. She watched her thumb brush over his as if soothing away hurt yet to come.

“Hey.” Yara’s voice cut into Lola’s thoughts.

Lola’s head shot up. She yanked her hand out of Saint’s and shoved it under the table. It was one thing to hold his hand when it was just the two of them; it was another thing to do it in front of people. “Hey,” she squeaked way too brightly. “How’s it going?”

“I’m as well as could be under the circumstances,” Yara responded with a significant look at the man sitting next to Lola.

This was going to be a shit show.

“Umm. Have a seat,” Lola said even though Yara was already doing so. Lola had chosen the spot at the head of the table to feel in charge, but—with Saint on one side of the table and Yara on the other—she simply felt caught in the middle.

After Lola provided introductions, a tense silence settled over the table. Fortunately, the server appeared almost immediately with water. Unfortunately, the server was Mariana who also had Saint on their shit list. “Hey. I didn’t know you worked here,” Lola said.

Mariana smiled. “I’m always here when I’m not at El Hogar.” Their face turned solemn. “I mean when Iwasn’tat El Hogar. Can’t be there if it doesn’t exist anymore.” At that they gave Saint a dirty look.

He looked down at his hands.

Things were off to a great start. “Look,” Lola began. “It’s not Saint’s fault that the owners decided to sell the building to some scavengers on the down-low. That was done before he was even remotely involved in this.”

“True,” Mariana agreed.

“Hmm,” was all Yara said.

Lola knew there was more forthcoming, but at least she was letting them get drinks first.

“Are you all here for wings—” Mariana motioned to the list of wing flavors “—or did you want menus?”

“Wings for sure,” Lola and Yara said at the same time, causing the other woman to let out her first smile of the night.

Mariana pulled a pen and pad out of their apron. “Great, do you know which ones and how many?”

“We didn’t get to that yet,” Lola admitted. “What do you suggest?”

Mariana shrugged. “Depends on how much spice you like.”

“I’m half Mexican. I love spicy,” Lola said. “My Puerto Rican half rebels by giving me acid reflux, but I keep eating it anyway.”

---