Page 62 of A Dish Best Served Hot

“You probably don’t want to hear this.” Papo Vega spun her around and then pulled her back into the steps. “But you remind me of your father. You are smart and passionate, a natural leader. You have a fire in you that draws people in. They want to be near you to warm their hands on your flames.”

“If you are trying to flirt with me, Papo Vega, comparing me to my dad and then a fireplace is not the way.”

He laughed. “Call me Papo. And me flirt? I leave that to the young ones like my grandsons.” He shot a look at Saint, which made her do the same.

Saint was staring at her with a look in his eyes that made her light up like the fire Papo Vega accused her of being.

Lola tore her eyes away and brought her attention back to the old man in front of her who wiggled his eyebrows at her roguishly. She laughed. “Is comparing me to my father supposed to be some sort of revenge for trying to get you kicked out and almost tackling you in the hall?”

“No! Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know, but they say revenge is a dish best served cold.”

“That may be true, but passion is best served hot.” He twirled her out and then back in. “And I wasn’t trying to offend you, you know,” he said. “I told you all of that because I wanted you to know that, like the young version of your father, I admire those qualities and I like you.”

Lola flushed with pleasure at the praise. “I like you too...Papo.”

“Good.” The song drew to a close. Papo let her go and stepped back. “Now it’s my turn to sing. I picked this song for you. Don’t waste it.” He pushed her in the direction of Saint. “Go serve my grandson something hot. He’s been in the cold for too long.”

Lola looked back at Saint. He was still staring at her with desire. Reminding herself that she was a badass bitch, Lola grabbed the proverbial bull by the horns. She strutted over to Saint, adding extra sway to her hips. Without speaking a word, she grabbed his hand and pulled him out the side door and around the corner to a darkened hallway. As the sounds of a famous bolero began, she stepped close to Saint and drew his arms around her.

Papo’s strong and still beautiful voice began to sing, “Bésame. Bésame mucho.”

She wrapped her arms around Saint’s neck.

He released a rough exhale and pulled her closer. Then he started to sway with her.

“I don’t think we ever danced with each other,” she said after a moment.

“That’s because you wouldn’t go to prom with me,” he responded. “Something about refusing to uphold society’s patriarchal views that women were only worth effort if they are dressed up like purchasable dolls.”

She looked up at him. “I stand by that.”

He smiled down at her. Then his face became somber. “It’s not that I don’t want to talk about her.”

Lola knew exactly whom he was referring to and she almost told him to stop. She didn’t want to think about his wife. She just wanted to enjoy being in his arms. However, she wanted to know, so she let him continue.

“Robyn and I didn’t have a normal relationship.”

“What doesthatmean?”

“We met at a bar near the base. We had a one-night stand. Right before I was due back, she found me and told me she was pregnant. She’d grown up in the system and she didn’t have anyone. No family. No friends. She had a part-time job as a waitress. That was it. We both were willing to do whatever was necessary for our child and Robyn needed medical insurance, so we got married and I left to continue my tour. Then, before I could even really get to know Robyn, she was gone. That’s why I don’t talk about her. If I open that door, then Rosie would start to ask questions. She’d want to know more and I can’t answer those questions because I don’t know.” He shook his head at himself. “How do I tell my daughter that I can’t tell her about her mom because I never even knew her outside of a few letters she sent me, most of which were about the pregnancy. I won’t lie to my kid. Rosie deserves better. Robyn deserved better.”

Lola’s heart squeezed. “You deserve better too, Saint.” She could see Saint doing all of that. He had such a thing for helping, for doing things correctly and honestly. She could see that his loveless marriage was more of a sore spot for him than it probably would be for Rosie. “Don’t put that kind of pressure on yourself. Rosie will eventually need to be told the truth, but don’t think it’s somehow going to scar her or ruin her life. Kids tend to understand more than people give them credit for and they are more resilient than they seem. She’ll probably be disappointed, but she’ll understand.”

In the distance the song ended and another began, but Lola paid it no mind. She continued swaying with Saint.

“I’m terrified that I’ll ruin her. That I’ll do something the wrong way or say something I shouldn’t have and mess her up. She’s obviously already dealing with something because she feels so much anxiety about it that she won’t talk in school. I didn’t even know. I mean I knew she wouldn’t talk, but I would’ve never connected it to anxiety if it weren’t for you. I shouldn’t be trusted with her. I’m going to fail her.”

She could feel his heart beating frantically where her cheek was resting on his chest. The hands at the small of her back began to clench. His breathing was agitated even though he was trying to take deep breaths.

Lola rose onto her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Is this okay?”

He nodded and pulled her closer.

She pressed a kiss to his cheek.

He turned his head and caught at her lips with his. It was a deep but quick kiss. Then he buried his nose in her hair and inhaled deeply. He exhaled and she felt it all along her scalp. The hairs on the back of her neck and arms rose in prickly pleasure. “Keep doing that.”

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