Page 40 of A Dish Best Served Hot

“Nonsense,” Yara said. “I’m one hundred percent Puerto Rican and you already know that I like ’em hot.”

Lola laughed. “Fair enough.” She turned to Saint. “What about you?”

Before he could even open his mouth Yara was answering for him. “I don’t think he’s at our level.”

Saint raised one eyebrow. “Meaning?”

Yara lifted a shoulder. “No offense, but you don’t look like you can handle the heat.” It was clear from her tone that Yara wasn’t solely referring to chicken wings.

“I can handle heat just fine,” he retorted.

“Really? Is that why you’re letting Lola do all your talking for you?”

“Yara,” Lola admonished.

“What?” Yara asked. “I’m just wondering why we should trust him when he can’t even speak up for himself.”

“Not to mention he already stabbed us in the back,” Mariana added.

Saint sat forward. “You want to see me handle the heat? Fine.” He turned to Mariana. “I want an order of the hottest wings on the menu.” He looked at Yara. “As I eat them you can grill me on my intentions.”

“That’s not nec—” Lola began, but Yara cut her off.

“No. He wants all the heat. Let him.” She turned to Mariana. “Don’t you have a wing challenge?”

They nodded. “But it’s insane. They’re made with Carolina Reaper peppers. There’s no way.”

“I’ll do it,” said the idiot next to her.

Annoyed by this whole thing Lola decided to prove a point. “Yara is doing it too.”

“What?” the woman in question yelped.

Lola expected her to see how dumb this was and back down, but then Saint had to go and open his normally silent mouth.

“Don’t tell me that you can dish out the heat but not take it,” he taunted.

“Oh, we are doing this,” Yara declared.

“If I eat more wings than you, I get to help find El Hogar a new home with no questions asked and no comments about my involvement in the Raven Realty project.”

“And if I eat more than you, you find another way to assuage your guilt for selling out the neighbors that have supported your family for decades.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Lola rolled her eyes. “This is incredibly stupid. I hope you both realize that.”

Lola looked to Mariana, who simply shrugged.

“I really want to see what happens.” They wrote something on their pad then looked at Lola. “Are you taking part, or do you want something else?”

“There is no way in hell I’m eating a Carolina Reaper hot wing. You can put me down for regular buffalo wings and a bunch of bread and milk for these two.”

“Oh, we have everything needed to help someone after they try the challenge and if not, there’s always 911.”

“Well, that’s comforting,” Lola muttered.

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