Page 41 of A Flighty Fake Boyfriend
I got a shock when, after the toast, Luis’s brothers Jorge and Salazar came to sit at our table. Jorge had always been a little standoffish, but Salazar was the baby of the family and prone to shenanigans.
“Good to see you again, Ryan.” Salazar lifted his glass to his lips.
“Nice to see you too.” I took two fiery prawns from my plate and passed them to Epic. “Your family is well I hope.”
“Very well, thank you.” He set his glass down. “I hope it’s not awkward for you to attend the wedding. There was some contention over whether to issue an invitation, but Luis and indeed William were insistent.”
“That’s very kind.”
“William puts up with much from my brother. The man is a saint.”
He might need to be.Epic offered me a saucy little meatball.
“The food is to die for.” His whispered words next to my ear sent shivers straight to my groin.
Once the party got underway, servers replenished each table with plates of tidbits. Epic smiled warmly at our server, who handed each of us a small glass of what I assumed to be gazpacho.
Epic said, “Thank you.”
The waiter winked.
“Are you still in Vancouver, Ryan?” Jorge asked.
“Yes, still with StolenLives.”
“Don Quixote with your windmills. I admire your fight.”
I sipped my soup. “You’ve always been a very generous benefactor, and I thank you.”
“Will you never settle down? Marry and build a family of your own?”
“It’s not in the near future,” I answered politely.
He turned his gaze to Epic. “And what do you do, young sir?”
“I wait tables at a restaurant called Bistro in St. Nacho’s.”
“How very American. Do you attend school?”
“Not right now.”
I watched and waited for Epic to mention that he’d finished school with an MFE, but he didn’t. He ate a meatball, smiled serenely, and turned to me.
“This is delicious. Try yours.”
I did as he asked. The meatball tasted wonderful—smooth, moist, flavorful meat in a spicy sauce. “You’re right. These are divine.”
“And the gazpacho is so yum.”
“My brother always serves the finest dishes.” Salazar picked up a meatball and popped it into his mouth. “He’s an incurable foodie. William indulges him, but soon he will be as fat as Jose Miguel.”
“Shh.” Jorge laughed with him. “Uncle won’t appreciate hearing you say that.”
“Luis is very disciplined.” When I was with him, he worked out first thing every morning, rain or shine. “He’ll always be fit.”
“Let’s hope he keeps his hair.” Salazar offered me a plate of papas braves with an aioli sauce for dipping. “William is too lovely for a bald husband.”
The evening went on with waiters bringing out different dishes, croquetas—meat and potatoes rolled in breadcrumbs and fried—fried peppers in crusty sea salt, octopus, and bundles of peppers wrapped in sardines with green olives.
