Page 45 of Wild Catch
Every step feels weirder. Like the air closest to her is charged and I’m gonna get zapped.
I stop at a safe distance from whatever this storm is and slide my hands into the pockets of my black joggers. “What’s going on, Rose?” My voice is raspy but I refuse to clear it because that could be perceived as a sign of nerves. And I’m not nervous. I’m just a little mystified, that’s all.
“Well.” She leans to the side to look behind me. “There’s something kind of private I need to talk with you about. But a bunch of players are taking a surprising amount of time retrieving their suitcases, what with them getting distracted by us every thirty seconds…”
I run my hands through my hair to massage my scalp, just trying to get ahead of the headache my teammates give me often. “I know a good place where we can talk without witnesses.” Something about her demeanor changes and I add, “But still public.”
“Great.”
She relaxes. Another guy would get angry that he was distrusted.
Me? I can’t help but seeing her in a different light. Her usual sunny disposition led me to think that she’s a happy-go-lucky, slightly ditzy woman with terrible taste—as anyone who goes out with Ben Williams probably is.
But it turns out that Rosalina Mena is smart. I respect that.
“Take out your phone so I can give you the address,” I mutter. “That way you can confirm that the place is safe first.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh, yes. Thanks.” She’s still blinking at me as she palms her pockets and finds her phone on one at the back. I’m about to tell her the name of the place when she just unlocks her device and hands it over.
All right, I guess this is faster. I find her browser and key in the name. The correct result pops up right away and I pull up the website before returning her phone.
When I lift my head, I find that she’s still watching me. Her head is tilted, eyes slightly narrowed like she’s trying to categorize me. Good luck with that.
I motion with her phone again until she takes it. As her attention drifts down to the screen, I say, “See you there in fifteen.” And with that I set course to find my Paningale V4 R.
*
I leave the Orlando Wild facilities before she does and beat the worst of the rush hour traffic. This little joint is not on a main road, but it’s still part of what is considered Mills 50, an area where Asian businesses abound. This place is where I come when I want a really good Korean BBQ like the stuff you find in San Francisco, where there’s a pretty big Korean community. I’m not looking for that aspect, but merely for the food. Sometimes I just crave a killer kimchi.
So, even if Rose decides that what she wants to talk about isn’t important after all and prefers to head home, I’m still going to feast like a king tonight. And I deserve it after scraping a win in this series.
“Annyeonghaseyo,” the owner greets me without further ado. I’m a regular. He knows who I am. He doesn’t care to profit off my fame beyond what I can pay for bulgogi servings and endless banchan. It’s a perfect arrangement. I nod at him and he nods back, which tells me my usual table is free.
However, I add, “There may be a second person this time.”
“Twice the servings then?”
“I don’t know. She may want something else.”
His eyebrow twitches. I’m always by myself and I know what’s going through his mind now that I mentioned that my possible dinner companion is a she. But I shake my head. Rose isn’t a date. Or a friend. I guess we’re coworkers, except she said that this topic is private, so it can’t be work related.
I grunt, forcing myself out of my overthinking. Without further ado, I sort through the tables to find the farthest booth at the back, taking the seat where I can see the front door easily.
I’ll give her exactly ten minutes, then I’m ordering enough food for an army. But I’m only checking sports news on my phone for two when some movement at the corner of my eye gets my attention.
It’s her. She’s talking with the owner at the front, maybe asking about me—or not. Suddenly she’s laughing and the old man joins in. This is the first time I even hear his laughter since I’ve been coming to this restaurant.
Then she spots me, and her amusement ebbs away pretty drastically.
“Geez.” I squirm on my seat. Guess I found the one woman who sees right through my objectively handsome face and down to my rotten core.
Finally, she tears herself away from charming the crap out of the owner and makes her way over. Rose takes the seat across the table, dropping her little purse beside her. She folds her arms and leans them on the table, propping herself up to get a better view outside of the booth.
“Wow, this place looks like we’re in another country. How did you find it?”
“I’m a regular.” I look away from her and wait to make eye contact with a waitress. I never need the menu, but Rose definitely does.
It takes a tense minute for the menu to arrive and another one while I wait for her to acquaint herself with it. I try not to stare at her, but it’d probably be even ruder if I just go back to perusing my phone.
