Page 40 of Hale Yes
I watch with rapt attention as she replies, again in Spanish. “No soy su cita. Somos compañeros de trabajo.”
No idea what they just said. I heard my name and picked up a few other words, but my Spanish is rusty. So I ask her as soon as we’re seated at a table notched into the arch of a bay window that overlooks the restaurant’s courtyard.
“What were you and Vicente saying? Trabajo means work, right?”
Nicolette takes a sip of water and eyes me over the rim. “He said you’d never brought a date here before.” She smirks, her tone casual. “And I told him I’m not your date. I’m a prostitute.”
Choking on my own spit, I cover my mouth with my napkin. “Wh-what?”
Her laughter is a rich, warm sound that swirls around the table. “Kidding. I told him we’re coworkers.”
I snag my own water goblet and take a large gulp to clear my throat. “Thank god. I thought for a second there that I’d never be able to show my face in here again.”
Nicolette takes in the space, her eyes roaming from floor to ceiling. “Okay confession time.” She bends forward and lowers her voice, and I find my own posture arcing to mimic her. “In the car, when you said you were taking me to a tapas bar, I thought you saidtopless bar.”
A burst of hilarity spews from my mouth again. That’s why she was acting so nervous.
“You actually thought I’d take you to a topless bar?”
She grins. “I was so confused. I never thought the straitlaced Dr. Helix Hale would go to a strip club.”
Straitlaced.If she only knew. “I’m not saying I’ve never been to one, but I certainly wouldn’t take you there.”
“I was afraid we’d show up and the sign would read Cooter’s or something with the two O’s being nipples,” she comments. “I was fully prepared to see women dancing in cages, and I’d probably have to suppress the urge to yank open the doors and yell, ‘Free the titties!’ like a lunatic.”
We both crack up until we hear a throat clear beside us. Vicente sets down a carafe of housemade sangria and two wine glasses. “I walk away for two minutes and come back to this discussion,” he says, clicking his tongue in mock disappointment.
Nicolette points at me accusingly. “It’s Dr. Hale’s fault. He’s trying to corrupt me.”
“Exactly as I suspected.” He waggles a stubby finger at me, his voice teasing. “Don’t make me have to come back over here. I’ll not have you insulting my new favorite guest.”
“I thought I was your favorite guest, Vicente,” I tell him, feigning insult.
He waves his hand like he’s shooing me away as he makes goo goo eyes at Nicolette. “Let me know if you need my assistance, madam. I can get rid of this pest if he’s bothering you. Then you can sit at my table, and I’ll treat you like a princess for the rest of the evening.”
“You don’t even have a table,” I scoff at his obvious flirting. “I’ve been coming here for years, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sit down.”
“Because I’ve never had the proper motivation.” He turns to Nicolette. “Have you decided what you’d like to eat tonight, Princess Nicolette?” I roll my eyes.
“I haven’t looked at the menu yet,” she says. “Do you mind if we take a few minutes?”
“Of course,” Vicente purrs, practically bowing his way from the table, but not before tossing me a cheeky wink.
“He’s a piece of work,” she chuckles, picking up her menu.
“He’s something,” I mutter, trying to hide the annoyance in my voice. I know Vicente doesn’t mean anything by his blatant flirting, but it still crawled under my skin a little bit. Maybe it’s because he’s on a first-name basis with Nicolette while she and I are still using formal titles. And yes, I’m aware that’s my own damn fault.
“Hmm, might have to try the paella,” she muses, her green eyes cast down toward the list of small plates.
“You can call me Helix,” I blurt out, and her gaze snaps up to mine. “If you want.”
“Okay, Helix,” she replies, and I like the way my name sounds from her pretty lips. “And you may call me Princess Nicolette.”
I snort in amusement. I can’t remember the last time I’ve laughed this much, though it was probably with Phoenix. He’s a lot calmer now that he’s a dad, but he’s still the funniest person I know.
“I refuse to call you princess,” I declare, earning me a quirked eyebrow from my date, er, dinner companion. “You’re too good for that. I rather think of you in the queen category.”
Nicolette sets down her menu and gives me a sarcastic slow clap. “Well done, Helix.” But I don’t miss her blush at the compliment.
