Page 18 of Hearts on the Table
“My middle name is not Rodriguez. And you shouldn’t seat us here with all those people waiting outside.”
“Of course I can! You’re family, you ass! I’m done with you now. You’re not even going to introduce us, you fucking Neanderthal.” He pivoted to smile at Lainey, curly hair falling across his forehead. “I’m Santiago.”
“I’m Lainey. It’s nice to meet you.”
Anyone else would have missed the split-second when he froze, his long, black-polish-tipped fingers barely twitching when their hands clasped. Lainey likely didn’t catch the quick flicker of his eyes to my face, then back to hers. But I did. I met his eyes again when he looked at me, silently pleading for him to be cool.
His teeth glinted. “Sit. Stay.” He swept away. As soon as Lainey’s back was turned, his head whipped around and hemouthedholy shit, holy shit, what the fuckat me. I ignored him, opting instead to watch Lainey gawk at the shop.
I’d been coming here since before it opened, and sometimes even I was still impressed. Colorful paper and bronze lanterns crowded together on the ceiling. White stars and moons swirled across the indigo walls. Tiago had spent several very late nights informing me exactly what all the various runes and astrological bullshit were, but I didn’t remember them now. Once I’d painted one, I just moved onto the next.
Outside, colorful umbrellas strung together to make a massive, whimsical patio cover. Jordan and I had nearly come to blows over that one. Believe it or not, umbrellas aren’t the most ideal material if you’re trying to build a sustainable roof structure.
“This place lives up to the hype.” Lainey swept her eyes around the pastry case, stuffed with a dizzying array of Cuban, French, and American confections. “Does he own it?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes widened. “When you said you could get us in here, I didn’t think it’d be because you know the owner. Dang. They even know your order.”
Tiago’s hand appeared, placing a cup and saucer in front of me. He scoffed. “Of course I do. Not that it’s hard to remember.”
“Coffee. Black. Pretty standard for a doctor.” Lainey rolled her eyes along with Santiago. She knew my coffee order, too. I took a sip to hide my smile.
“He takes it with sugar here. Classic Café Cubano.”
“Not like I’m allowed to have anything else,” I grumbled.
“Anything except plain black,Amor. You need to spice things up. You”—he swiveled on his way to the back, pointing at Lainey—“little miss decaf iced tea and ‘something cool with cold foam.’ You good with spice?”
“Ah, yes?”
He clapped twice and whirled through the beaded curtain to the kitchen. I sipped my drink, savoring.
“You gave him my drink order?”
“Are you impressed yet?” Our eyes met. Held. Warmthspread in my chest and turned molten. The table between us was the size of a postage stamp. Our knees bumped underneath it.
“Yes.” A thousand thoughts rattled around in the back of my head. Like how we’d just endured the workout of the year and I probably smelled like the men’s locker room. That she was most likely starving, like me. I was wondering whether or not Tiago was going to play it cool now that he knew exactly who sat across from me. But it faded to the background; her eyes like a tether, reeling me in closer and closer the longer she looked at me.
“Pardon,” Jordan’s voice rumbled somewhere above us. His arm descended over the top of the pastry case to deposit a plate of baked goods. He gave Lainey a slow smile. “I’m Jordan. Tell me what you think of these two.” He pointed to two pastries on top of the pile before ducking back behind the case.
I leaned back in my chair, not entirely sure when I’d moved towards her. Lainey likewise pushed her shoulders back in her seat, looking lost and staring at the plate before us. A faint flush touched her cheeks. “They drop pastry out of the sky here? Is this heaven?”
“Jordan runs the kitchen.”
“He talks as much as you do.” Her nose wrinkled at me, teasing.
“It’s my curse to be surrounded by large, silent men. I have to carry on all the conversations around here.” Santiago managed to Tetris the plates to make room for—I’m not kidding—a whole fucking platter of iced tea drinks. He presented them to Lainey like she was a queen. “For you, a flight. We’ve got the floral Rooibos with the dreamsicle cold foam. Lavender hibiscus withthe honey foam. Decaf earl gray with coconut caramel. And chai with habanero brown sugar.”
Tiago smirked at me, batting his eyelashes. I shrugged. “You lost me at dreamsicle.”
“You have flights of tea here?” Lainey gaped at the colorful glasses as if he’d offered her a selection of jewels.
“We don’t. But you’re a VIP.”
Lainey bit her lip, looking up at Santiago with stars in her eyes. “I think I’m in love with you.”
“Oh, Honey, that’s sweet, but I’m taken. My friend’s single, though.” He patted my shoulder and swept off to buss a table. It was a challenge to stop myself from glaring after him. Thankfully, Lainey seemed too entranced by her tea to have noticed his wing-manning.
