My phone buzzed again with yet another message as we were handed the menus. I thought about ignoring it, but curiosity got the better of me. I scrolled through the messages from last night and this morning.
Where did you go?
Did you leave?
What the hell
Sandy, you better not be gone, I swear to god
Paul said you left
What do you mean brunch is canceled?
Sandy
Seriously, stop being an asshole
I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING
Okay, I’ve slept on it. I still didn’t do anything
I’m coming over later and I’m not leaving until you let me in
I have to do that thing with Caleb today
Why did Vince call me sounding weird?
You’re up to something
I know it
I’m going to figure it out
And finally, the one I just received:
You can’t ignore me forever
Bullshit I couldn’t.
Okay, I probably couldn’t, but no one told me what to do.
Not especially since Vince was convinced (goddammit, I was never going to be able to use that word again!) that Darren was in love with me, for fuck’s sake. That was the part I couldn’t quite grasp, no matter how hard I tried. Because I wasn’t sure I wanted to understand it. I didn’t think that could ever be real and—
“Ladies and gentleman, welcome to Poco’s,” a sultry voice said.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Paul muttered. “He’s like a fucking cockroach.”
But the waiter must not have heard him, eyes running up and down Vince and Corey. “My name is Santiago,” he said, cocking his hip. “And I will be here to service you.” He winked at Vince. “Oops. I meant serve you.”
“My names is Esteban Raymundo Moreno,” Vince said, rolling his r’s so hard, I thought he was going to lose his tongue. “I am named after mi padre.”
“How fascinating,” Santiago said. “I like your mustache. It’s very… large.”
“¡Gracias!” Vince said, beaming.
I wasn’t going to put up with his shit today, especially since Paul already looked like someone’s spinster great-aunt from the fifties. “Santiago, was it?”
He glanced away from Vince, sizing me up before nodding.
