Page 52 of Embattled Return

And he was heading out the landing and down the stairs to his own apartment.

Marigold took a moment to just sit and think about the night, as well as the morning. Logan was a good guy, she could tell that much, and she really hoped his family lived up to what she thought his expectations of them were. If not, she and the LNF group would be there for him.

15

El Toro Arvada was a beautiful, well-kept restaurant on the north-west side of Denver. The parking lot was freshly paved and very full for the lunch rush, which was encouraging. Marigold had to park out, almost to the street.

Logan looked around the area, seeing the attention that had obviously been put into caring for this business. The landscaping was immaculate, and the food must be good considering how packed it was. There was a scent wafting from the building that was making his stomach rumble.

“It’s a nice looking restaurant,” Marigold murmured, turning off the ignition. “The sign says family-owned for forty years.”

Yeah, he’d seen that as well. He looked at the windows of the building, seeing people moving around. It was bright and beautiful outside right now, everything buttoned up for the winter, but there were large red umbrellas on the patio, like they’d started getting them out of storage and ready for the summer.

Logan didn’t know how to feel at that moment. Anxiety churned in his gut, tempered only by the fact that Marigold was beside him.

“Mari, thank you for coming with me. I apologize now if I do anything wrong.”

She smiled at the shortening of her name and reached out to rest a hand on his forearm. “If you need to go, we’ll go. Just say the word.”

“I will,” he agreed. Pushing the car door open, he planted his crutches and levered himself up out of the car.

Mari led the way up a few steps and she held a big wooden door open for him. Inside, a hostess greeted them with a brilliant smile. “Just two today? Would you like a booth or a table?”

Logan looked through the restaurant. “A booth, please.”

“Right this way,” the young woman said, and started to lead them through the tables. Logan took the seat that faced the main entrance of the restaurant. There was a hallway behind him, which he didn’t like, but he wasn’t going to draw attention to himself by moving. He glanced around the space.

El Toro was a typical looking Mexican restaurant, with brightly painted tables and interiors. It wasn’t as hokey as some Mexican restaurants he’d seen. There was something classy and almost antique to the place. It was obvious they’d been here a long time.

A young man with dark hair and pretty, dark blue eyes brought them a basket of tortilla chips and a chunky salsa. “What can I get you to drink?”

Mari looked between Logan and the waiter, and he suddenly realized the problem. There was a bit of a resemblance, scars aside. Dark haired, blue eyed, fairly muscular and handsome. Not Hispanic looking necessarily, but there were some aspects there. It was like they had a common Hispanic ancestor from generations ago.

“Margarita. Actually, make it a pitcher, please.”

“Will do,” the young man said, smiling brightly. “My name is Michael and it will be my pleasure to serve you today.”

Mari watched him disappear into the depths of the restaurant, then she glanced back at Logan. She covered his hand with her own, and he knew she was trying to ease some of the tension away. “We’re just getting some lunch,” she murmured. “No commitment. There may be no one here to talk to anyway.”

Yeah, she was probably right.

The young man returned with a pitcher brimming with lime margarita. “Do you know what you’d like to order?”

Logan flipped open his menu. It had been sitting untouched since they’d taken their seats. “I’ll do your lunch special with a side of guac. And can we do a queso for the table?”

The waiter nodded. “Absolutely. And for you ma’am?”

“Same. And an ice water, too, please.”

The young man collected their menus. “Back in just a few minutes,” he promised.

And he was, as promised, bringing her ice water and their queso. “If I forget anything, please wave me down. We’re pretty busy right now and things slip through here and there.”

“Will do,” Logan promised, reaching for his margarita.

“Seems like a nice kid,” Marigold murmured, lifting her glass. “Oh, man, this is a good drink.”

Though it was a little early in the day, they both enjoyed the margarita. They were halfway through the glass when an older woman brought their food out. Logan looked up at the older woman and froze, knowing that his plans had just gone to hell.

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