Page 41 of Broken Grump

Her eyes peer down at it. “Perfect. Although, I feel like a bit of an imposter.”

I shrug with one shoulder. “Hey, you are Catholic after all, aren’t you?”

“True.” Turning her attention to outside the window, she asks, “Where are we anyway?”

“Just a mom-and-pop restaurant Randall likes.”

“Oh, okay.”

I get out first and swing over to her side and open her door.

“Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” To sell the charade, I bring her hand, which is already in mine, up to my lips and plant a kiss on it.

I swear she blushes.

But then I follow her eyes as they settle on the small, arcade-looking hole in the wall.

“Shut up!”

Oh, no.After Randall mentioned Roasted Duck by Pa Ord, I was afraid it might be below her standards.

“I love this place!” she exclaims with glee while wringing her hands together. “Abueloand I came here a bunch whenever I was in town.”

And then I’m reminded again that she isn’t anything like the girls I’ve dated in the past, who probably would’ve hated it here.

“Oh, my gosh. I feel like a kid in a candy store.”

Now, something I’ve always admired about her is coming back to me. She’s easily impressed and almost always down for a good time.

“Abueloalways said it was such a shame that Americans didn’t seem to cherish and revere duck meat like they do in Nicaragua,” she tells me.

“Is that so?” It isn’t exactly my meal of choice, but I won’t mention that.

But before we pass through the small door, I hold her back for a second.

“What?”

“Remember, you’re a good Christian woman.”

She yanks her sleeve away from me. “I know.”

I sigh. “Okay. But if he brings it up, neither one of us eats red nor white meat during lent.”

“Oh.” She brings her fingers up to her mouth and nods. “That’s right. Except that’s months away.”

“I—I know. I’m just saying. That would blow our cover pretty quickly if we acted clueless about that main practice.”

“Alright. Got it.”

“Good. Wait.” I stop her again.

She rolls her eyes now. “What?”

With a shy smile, I kiss her on the cheek. “Just in case anyone was watching,” I whisper into her ear. I then grab her hand in mine. It feels simultaneously strange and right at the same time.

When we finally walk inside, we’re greeted by a man I recognize from his professional profile online.

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