Page 125 of Heart of a Villain

“Even if it fails, like many restaurants do, I just want to know what it’s like to have achieved it even once.”

He leaned against the counter, arms folded. “So, tell me, what are your specials for tonight, ma’am?”

“Well,” she spun, facing him, “tonight, for appetizers, we have crab beignets with cajun aioli, chicken croquettes, fried green tomatoes with pimento cheese, mini pastilla bites, and pão de queijo—cheese bread.”

He grinned.

“For dinner…shrimp and grits Moqueca. Hannah would have loved that one.”

His expression momentarily dimmed. While he and Hannah hadn’t started out on the best terms, they’d eventually grown close. It wouldn’t surprise her to know that he still missed her as well.

“Cornbread feijoada,” she added. “Fried chicken with Moroccan spices, tagine jambalaya, and baked catfish with chermoula. A little bit of everything, right?

“Right.”

“Now, for dessert…brigadeiro pecan pie.”

He groaned.

“Coconut bread pudding with saffron.”

He licked his lips.

“And banana fritters drizzled in cinnamon honey.”

He moaned.

She nearly unraveled.

“Is there music?” he asked. “It’s fine dining, so perhaps some Bach?”

“No, sir. This is multicultural fine dining. There’s bossa nova. Blues. Jazz. I’m talking saxophones blended with Moroccan lutes and drums. Some nights, ambient music with chill vibes. Upscale but not pretentious.” She wound her hips. “Gustavvo Lima.”

“You don’t know any Gustavvo Lima.”

“On the contrary…” She pulled out her phone, searched for yet another song that made her think of him, pressed play, and held out a hand.

Adrían didn’t hesitate.

Whether it was coming to her or defending her, he never hesitated.

She let him twirl her and hold her close, and it felt illegal to be this doggone happy. The entire time they danced together, she never stopped smiling. Regardless of what she’d said, she never would have given this up.

Their dance took them back to the main dining room, where they bumped into tables and chairs. She laughed while he rubbed her hip or she gently caressed his lower back. It wasn’t until the song ended that she remembered why they were there in the first place.

“Don’t we have somewhere to be?” she asked. “I’m trying to get paid here, my friend. I have plans.”

He held her against him from behind, rocking their bodies from side to side. “What plans do you have?”

“A house. A new life. A gift for my man’s birthday. Spoiling my new lot of nieces and nephews.”

“No, we don’t have anywhere to be,” he said. “I already signed all the paperwork.”

“Oh? Then why are we here?”

“It’s here for whenever you’re ready.”

“What is?”

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