Page 31 of Once Upon a Curse for True Love
Donatello startled, then shot her another sideways look.“Was that you?”
Andromeda’s glare could have melted steel.“In case you hadn’t noticed, detective, we skipped lunch.Some of us need actual sustenance to survive, not just the satisfaction of ruining innocent people’s days.”
Without warning, Donatello activated the blinker and executed a sharp U-turn that had Andromeda grabbing the door handle for support.
“What are you doing?”she demanded.“My house is in the opposite direction.”
“I’m going to feed you,” he replied simply, “before that stomach of yours triggers a noise complaint.I know a Chinese place about five minutes away—best dumplings in Salem.”
Andromeda eyed him sideways.“Most people ask before dragging someone off to dinner.”
“You hungry or not?”
“I’m hungry, not desperate.This still counts as kidnapping.”
“This is an unsolicited act of heroism.You can thank me later.”
The Golden Dragon was tucked between a bookstore and a crystal shop on one of Salem’s quieter side streets.Its facade was unassuming, but the delicious smells wafting from within made Andromeda’s stomach growl again—softer this time, but no less insistent.
“The grandmother who runs the kitchen is half-witch on her mother’s side—uses enough magic to make the food unforgettable,” Donatello said as he held the door open for her.“Family-owned for three generations.”
Andromeda paused too close to him before getting in.“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a foodie.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Swan.”
The hostess—a young woman with a streak of blue in her dark hair—greeted Donatello by name and led them to a corner booth with red cushions and a small paper lantern casting a warm glow between them.As she handed them menus, she gave Donatello a curious look, her eyes lingering on his beanie before flicking to Andromeda with obvious interest.
“Your usual jasmine tea, Don?”she asked.
“Yes, please.”
Andromeda’s mouth twitched as she flipped open the menu.“I’ll have the tea, too.”
Donatello glanced at her.“What?”
“Nothing,” she said innocently.“Jasmine tea is not the manly beverage I expected you to order.”
He didn’t miss a beat.“Yeah, well, I save the blood of my enemies for weekends.”
By the time they’d ordered drinks and enough food for four people, the atmosphere had settled to something suspiciously date-like.The small table forced them to sit close, their knees brushing beneath it.And the soft lighting took the edge off Andromeda’s features, turning the digital menace into someone he wanted to know better.
Donatello watched, fascinated, as she ate the rice—he could manage most foods with chopsticks but had to ask for a fork for the rice.
“You’re oddly good at that,” he observed, nodding toward her bamboo sticks.
“I could say the same about your brooding,” she replied, eyes dancing with amusement.“Professional grade.”
He shrugged.“Must be the bad hair day.”
Andromeda’s smile turned sly, and she pointed her chopsticks at his beanie.“You can take that off, you know.I’ve already seen what’s underneath.”
“That’s what she said,” Donatello deadpanned.
Her surprised laugh lit up her entire face.“He makes jokes.”She sounded genuinely delighted.“Will the wonders never cease?”
She stared at him then—like she was in no hurry to look away.It put Donatello off balance in the most unnerving, satisfying way.He yanked off the beanie, revealing his lilac locks in all their pastel glory.
Andromeda’s eyes widened, her lips parting on a small gasp before she composed herself.Did she… like the purple?
