Page 51 of Show Off

“I can’t.”

Dal blinks. “You can.”

I’m shaking my head, knowing I need to be careful. “It’s my job to?—”

“Did you fake it on the counter the other night?”

“What?” I can’t believe he asked that. “Of course not. I?—”

“I know you didn’t, Lana.” The heat in his gaze turns my insides to liquid. “I wanted to see your face when you’re being completely honest.”

Well, that’s a dick move. “Of all the manipulative?—”

“What food do I make in the restaurant that you hate?”

I stare at his face, uncomprehending. “I don’t understand.”

“Come on, Lana.” Dal folds his arms. “You can’t love everything I make. Tell me something you didn’t care for. Please.”

It’s the pleading that gets me. That, and the pain in his eyes. I don’t know how, but I sense the only thing that might make it better is honesty. Complete and total honesty, even about something so trivial.

“The vegan potato leek soup,” I blurt. “You had it on the menu last spring.”

He frowns. “You’re not vegan.”

“No, but I love potatoes.” It’s pretty tough to fuck them up, which might be part of my fondness. “That soup tasted like feet.”

Dal nods without a trace of offense. “Thank you for your candor.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You’ll notice it’s not on the menu anymore.”

“Did someone else complain?”

“No.”

I wait for him to point out that if they had, the less-than-perfect soup would have disappeared sooner from the menu. That if I’d been honest from the start, I’d have spared other patrons the taste of toes.

“What’s your favorite thing about your body?” His heated gaze holds mine. “Don’t worry about being vain. Just say it.”

“Tits,” I say without thinking. “Wait.” That came out wrong. “I meant my smile.” Something less conceited, less sexualized.

But Dal’s shaking his head. “Your first answer sounded more honest.”

I’m not sure that’s a good thing. But he’s right, it feels nice just saying the first thing to pop into mind.

“Is my makgeolli really your favorite dessert on earth?” He’s daring me now, challenging me to be honest.

“No.” I lick my lips, tasting ginger. “But it’s really good.”

“What’s your real favorite?”

“Nutter Butter cookies with canned whipped cream.”

Dal winces. “Really?”

“You asked.” Should I have humored him? “But as far as gourmet desserts go, the makgeolli’s really great and?—”

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