Page 15 of Empire of Temptation

When Bev bit off what she was about to say, I prompted, “My mom, what?”

Bev patted my free hand where it rested on the counter. “Your mom wouldn’t want you messing around with those kinds of men.”

Mom and Bev had been good friends, playing in a cutthroat mahjong group every week until Mom grew too sick. Since my mom died, Bev had watched over me, almost like a grandma.

Sam spoke up. “Gram, stop scaring her. You know Val doesn’t have time for dating.”

Guilt washed over Bev’s expression. “I’m sorry, Val. I know you’ve had a lot on your plate these last few years.”

An understatement. There hadn’t been time for romance or even hookups. My mother got sick when I was sixteen, and all my time after that had been split between school, her care, and the restaurant. Now, five years later, I was an overworked, exhausted virgin, which was so embarrassing. Most girls my age were finishing college, having fun, while my nights were spent arguing with servers and chefs. And any man I’d even remotely tried to flirt with had quickly lost interest when they heard my schedule.

Sorry, I work every night. Maybe we could have a morning coffee date if it’s before nine o’clock?

I was cursed. Sad and angry and cursed.

I finished paying and took my things. “Speaking of, I need to get over there. This situation isn’t going to un-fuck itself.”

“Wait,” Sam said, heading for the edge of the counter. “I’ll walk you out.”

“Okay. Bye, Bev!” I lifted the hand holding thecoffee in farewell and went to wait for Sam. When my friend joined me, we slowly made our way to the door.

“Don’t let Bev scare you away,” Sam said quietly. “She worries, that’s all.”

“I know. It’s all right.”

She elbowed me. “So, tell me about him. What happened after he handed out money and you closed up?”

“How do you know something happened?”

“I don’t, but the way you’re turning red right now is a pretty big clue. You look like that time in high school when our chemistry teacher told you to stop staring at Joey Brooks.”

I bit my lip. “I swear, that boy was so fine.”

“Agreed. Now, back to Mr. Hundred Dollar Bills, please.”

“Not you, too. Ugh.” Sometimes Sam and Bev were far too alike. “And there’s not much to tell. He made me dinner and then?—”

“He made you dinner?” Her voice was a screech that gained the attention of everyone in the room.

I wanted to crawl under a table. “Do you mind? I don’t need the entire town to find out.”

“Sorry. Oops, sorry.” She took my elbow and led me outside onto the walk. “Wait, I need details.”

I couldn’t hold it in. I spilled about my stomach growling, the pasta dinner, how charming Luca had been.

“Oh, my god. You have a crush on him.”

“Stop it. He’s a stranger. And too old for me.”

“How old is old?”

“Sam,” I said with a heavy sigh. “Can this grilling wait? I haven’t even had coffee yet.”

“Too bad, Montella. Answer the question.”

“He’s late thirties, I think.”

“That’s not too old!” She clapped her hands. “I like this for you. I think you should make him some chicken parm as a thank you.”

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