Page 127 of Reckless Vow

The interior boasts an eclectic mix of mismatched wooden tables and chairs. Walls adorned with black-and-white photographs capture Lisbon’s timeless beauty, while handwritten menus suggest dishes prepared with love and tradition.

“Mimi and her husband are talented cooks. Please don’t make this place a crime scene in your book.”

She laughs. “I can’t promise that, but I might send my hero on vacation here.”

“I like Waldo Rivers.” Her main character, a PI, is a well-written, flawed hero.

She covers her face. “God, I forgot you read my books.”

“Why haven’t you told the family you’re a writer? I get the secret behind the pen name your publisher has been milking, but sharing your success with your family?”

She purses her lips and moves them to the side, thinking. A gesture I remember. “I never felt like I fit in, you remember that. Being a rebel had been my cry for attention. One I never outgrew. I know it’s stupid, but I kept telling myself that if they were truly interested, they would find out.”

“Are you going to tell them now?”

I want to ask about us, not just her career, but maybe we can have an evening where the conversation isn’t tainted.

“I don’t know.” She smiles at me, and for the next few beats we just stare at each other, pretending we have no worries in the world.

“I hope you like fish and seafood.” I break the silence.

“Of course I do, especially fresh. But my favorite has always been Mexican food. There’s something about the blend of flavors that I find really exciting. Tacos, enchiladas, bring it on.”

I chuckle. “You lost me at tacos.”

She gasps in mock offense. “You take that back. Tacos are a primary food group.”

“Steak is a primary food group.”

Brook narrows her eyes, grinning. “We may have to agree to disagree on that one. It’s Skittles all over again. Who even are you?”

We stare at each other for a moment, wondering who even we are.

Well, I’m wondering, because as much as I’m sensing the long-lost connection, I’m also realizing we’ve grown up, had experiences that changed us, and this is almost like our first date.

Rediscovering.

Uncovering.

Wondering.

The server brings us water, wine, and a bread basket.

“Oh my god, I haven’t eaten all day.” Brook tears a piece of white loaf.

“Why?”

“I was too busy revisiting my life. Thank you very much.” She rolls her eyes.

“I’m sorry you found those files, but it’s not like there was anything earth-shattering there.”

She munches casually. “I partied, shopped, and dated abusive assholes.”

I wince at that. I hate those men, and that’s before I acknowledge how poorly they treated her. “Stop putting yourself down, or I’ll put you over my knee until your ass is burning.”

Her eyes widen, and there is a spark in them before she catches herself and covers the reaction with the wineglass.

“This is delicious.”

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