Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“What happened to your dad?” I asked.
“He died of a heart attack when I was in my teens.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” He frowned. “You help focus me, Mila. You make me stronger, but I don’t think you’re curing me. You’re making me happier than I can recall ever feeling, but isn’t that what love is supposed to do?”
I felt my eyes widen. “Love?” I whispered.
He shook his head. “Too much?”
I had to look away from the intensity in his eyes. “No,” I whispered. “I feel it too.”
“You threaten her.”
“That’s what Andi says.”
“MJ likes—needs—to be the center of attention, no matter what. She wants the focus on her. She lives for the spotlight.” He laughed dryly. “Way more than I do. I love the work. She loves the hype. She craves it.”
“She should have been the actor.”
He lifted one shoulder. “In many ways, I think she is.”
“It would be hard to live that way,” I mused. “She must be exhausted all the time.”
He shook his head. “You are so incredible. She’s been nothing but awful to you, yet you show her grace.”
“That’s how I was raised by my parents.”
“They did an outstanding job.” He blew out a breath. “I’m glad you’re heading home soon and away from her. I’ll be anxious to join you.”
“What did she say to you?”
He told me, and it was my turn to be affronted.
“We have lots of maple syrup, but snow is only in the winter. You’ll be there during the heat of the summer. We don’t live in a frozen tundra twelve months of the year.”
“I’ll let her think that. She hates the cold, so she’ll never show up.” He chuckled. “Now, can we stop talking about her and talk about us? About what you’re going to show me in Canada?” He leaned close. “About how I’m supposed to survive once you leave?”
“It’s only for a couple of weeks. Maybe less if filming wraps up.”
He leaned forward and kissed me. “Then I am going to do my best to speed things along. My performances will be perfect.” He winked. “The best incentive I know will be having you in my arms again.”
“Okay, then.”
He laughed. “Ready to order?”
“Yes.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
NICHOLAS
Mila sat back, wiping her lips. “That was incredible.”
I grinned. “I know. Manny’s food is fabulous. I love it here. Great meals, I never get bothered, and the margaritas are delicious.”
“And powerful.”
“That’s why I only had a small one. Yours was full size.”
“Aiden would go crazy. He loves Mexican, and this fusion is out of this world. How did you find it?”
“He used to have a food truck close to where I lived. His dad is Mexican, and his mom is Asian. He combined both for some of his dishes, and I was addicted. I think I lived on his ginger beef tacos for a month once. I ate there all the time. Cheap and delicious. We got to be friends. When he found this place, I fronted him the money to buy it. I’d had my break, and I thought he deserved his. I have never regretted it. He is always busy, but he fits me in anytime I want.”
I saw the look that passed over her face, and I chuckled. “Not other women, Shortcake. I usually come alone and often eat in the kitchen. He has a big family table in there. I brought MJ here once early on. She hated it.”
“What is to hate?”
“She likes fine dining. Or, in other words, expensive. Places she can be seen.”
“Ah.”
Our waitress, Manny’s daughter, came to the table. She grinned at the empty plates. “Good, right?”
I laughed. “Amazing as always, Carmen. Our compliments to the kitchen.”
“Dad is bringing dessert.”
“Great.”
A few moments later, Manny appeared, sliding his deep-fried ice cream and homemade churros onto the table. I eyed the pots of chocolate and the dulce de leche, already knowing Mila would love both. I introduced them, and he smiled, sitting beside me.
“You are too pretty and smart to be an actress,” he said with a droll wink. “What are you doing with this guy?”
“I heard he knew the best Mexican-Asian fusion restaurant in the state,” she replied. “I’m done with him now.”
Manny laughed and I grinned.
“I’m working with Mila right now. But you’re right. She isn’t an actress.” I smiled at her fondly. “She is the most real person I know.”
Manny smiled. “Good. You deserve real, my friend.”
We chatted for a few minutes, and he clapped me on the shoulder and left after kissing Mila’s hand. She hummed in delight after tasting the desserts, and we polished off the platter. I loved watching her eat. Enjoy the food. Most of the women I knew nibbled on salad. Sipped their wine as if they had to make it last a month. Mila relished her food. Delighted in the tastes and textures. I liked how her delight made her look. Soft, rounded—a pleasure to touch. Not flat.