Page 331 of Tormented Billionaire Romance Series

Naomi’s door swings open, and she’s standing there beaming. “You mean it?” she asks. “You’re not just saying that to get back in Grace’s pants or anything?”

This is one of the many reasons it’s impossible for me to take Naomi seriously.

“I mean it,” I tell her. “I was upset, but that’s no excuse for acting the way I did.”

My upper lip twitches when she pulls me in for a hug, but I go with it.

“Maybe you could make it up to me somehow,” Naomi says, and I look at Grace.

“Yeah,” Grace says, “we’re done here. Let me grab my jacket.”

Grace and I arrive at Carne Celeste and the way the hostess is eyeing me, I’m nervous about what’s going to come with our food. Still, she manages a smile and escorts us to an empty table near the back of the restaurant.

By the time Grace and I sit, the hostess is halfway back to the front of the restaurant, and suddenly this is all too real.

“Okay,” she says, “we’re here. What did you want to tell me?”

“I’m sorry, would you mind if we just talk for a few minutes?” I ask. “I just need a few moments to build up to it.”

Grace raises an eyebrow. She says, “Okay, but I hope you know you’re paying for dinner.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I say quickly, my throat devoid of moisture. “Of course, I’ve got dinner.”

She cracks a smile. “What do you want to talk about before we can talk about what we’re here to talk about?” she asks.

I make decisions every day that affect a lot of people, but sitting here in this red booth with its splitting vinyl upholstery, I don’t think I can remember my name. I know it has something to do with Rome and the Second Punic War. Maybe we can talk about that.

“Did you know,” I start, “the Roman General Cornelius Scipio was the one who finally defeated Hannibal when it looked like Carthage was poised to conquer the empire?”

How I thought that was a good topic for conversation is beyond me.

“Yeah,” she says. “I took history in high school.”

“Everyone remembers the crossing of the Alps, but most people don’t remember that it was by using Hannibal’s strategy that Scipio was able to defeat the Carthaginian finally,” I continue. Why am I continuing?

Thankfully, the waiter comes over to the table before I have to explain why I’m going through ancient Roman history. Yeah, it’s my last name, but come on, Zach.

“Have you had an opportunity to look at the menus, or do you need a few minutes?” the young, pimpled man with the paper hat says.

“You know,” Grace says, “I haven’t even had a chance to look at the menu.”

“I’ll have the veggie enchilada with the green sauce,” I tell the waiter. “Could I get that with sour cream on the side instead of on top? Also, a side of black beans instead of refried, if you don’t mind, and maybe some shredded lettuce in a bowl?”

I don’t look at Grace. That was me testing the waters.

“I’ll have the same,” Grace says slowly. The waiter walks away, writing, and Grace leans over the table. “That is what I’ve ordered every time I’ve been in here since I was like five years old,” she says.

“I know,” I tell her.

“What do you mean you know?” she asks.

“This is what I wanted to talk to you about,” I start.

“What, that you’re having me followed? Did you hire a private investigator or did you just bribe someone in town to spill a few of my likes and dislikes?” she asks.

“No,” I tell her. “I know it the same way I know you never wanted to work at Rory’s Treasures. A long time ago, at least, you wanted to be a teacher, but the way Grant has a stranglehold over the hiring in this town like it’s sixteenth-century Puritan America and everyone wants to be a blacksmith, you always knew it wasn’t going to happen. Still, you’re never going to leave Mulholland because this is where your parents are and where your grandparents are. You like new experiences, maybe more than Naomi, but when it comes right down to it, you’re a sucker for tradition.”

“How do you know all this?” she asks.

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