Page 12 of My Arrogant Millionaire

»Oh, please, Jandro, cut the crap,« I said quickly.

Baron chuckled softly, and his initial skepticism vanished. He realized that Alejandro and I were no more than friends, but I found it interesting how possessive he could become. And I liked it. »Don’t listen to her, tell me more about Gracie.« He emphasized my nickname in a particular way, but not to mock it. It sounded more like pleasant surprise.

I snorted, and the two men laughed almost simultaneously. »Don’t you have guests?« I asked, nodding to the two women who clearly wanted to regain the bartender’s attention.

»They’re undoubtedly waiting for me,« he replied.

»Gracie!« I breathed a sigh of relief as I recognized the Spanish accent and turned away from the two men. Camila rushed toward me, arms outstretched for a hug. I walked towards her and let her press me against her ample bosom. »How wonderful that you’re here today! We’ve missed you!«

»I’m sorry, Momi. I’ve been quite busy these past few weeks.« She released me and pushed me away, of course to scrutinize me.

»You’ve lost weight! Far too much stress! Pequeña, come on, sit down!« I turned to Baron, and as Alejandro resumed his place behind the bar, he joined me at my side.

»Oh, you’ve brought a guest!« She immediately grabbed Baron’s arm and squeezed gently. »Strong, handsome, Pequeña, I’m proud of you.« She winked at me, and I rolled my eyes with a smile.

»Momi,« I warned her, and she made a dismissive hand gesture. »Come on, sit down!«

She led us to one of the rear tables, set slightly apart from the others by tall earthenware jugs filled with umbrella bamboo and pampas grass. Green cloth napkins lay on the dark wooden tabletop. Lamps on the ochre-colored walls and an abundance of tea lights in various sizes and colors at the center of the table cast flickering, cozy light.

»Thank you, Momi,« I said, giving her a kiss on her round cheek before she hurried away and we took our seats. Baron grinned at me from across the table. »What?« I asked. Somehow, I was nervous about how he would find El Pacifico, considering he was used to places like Jacques.

»You love these people, don’t you?«

It was a question I could easily answer, but one I hadn’t expected. I averted my gaze and looked at my fingers resting on the table. »They’re family.« Gathering all the courage from deep within me, I looked at Baron. His expression was neither amused nor did he find my statement ridiculous. He was simply... interested. »My parents fought often, and we lived just down the street. Momi took me in, gave me food and a place to rest when I couldn’t be at home.«

»I can understand that,« he replied, and I hung on his every word. Why had I assumed he was born into this elite life? The more I got to know him, the more my impression of him changed. »My refuge was our hallway. Armed with a book, I simply waited for my parents‹ arguments to end.«

»How old were you when it started?« I asked softly. Damn, how could our conversation drift in this direction so quickly?

»Six,« he whispered, as if no one else should hear him. In that one word, there was so much pain that I wanted to embrace and hold him until the moment of remembrance had passed. »And you?«

»It was somehow always like that.«

He nodded, as if he simply understood everything. We looked at each other, and this time there was no desire, no lust in his gaze. It was longing—longing that I knew from myself. For stability, a home. Somehow, I had always been searching for those things and had never really found them. Not even now. I was twenty-six and didn’t even have my own apartment. Baron had thrown himself into work and had become more successful than most people out there. But it didn’t help; the emptiness remained.

Behind the screen, Alejandro appeared with two cocktail glasses and two shot glasses, placing them in front of us, and the moment was over. Immediately, Baron put on his mask of lightness, the one I usually wore too. It was nothing more than a performance, but we had both caught a glimpse of our true selves, and that was before the food even arrived. It was definitely a first for me.

»Please, enjoy!« Alejandro winked at me again and disappeared.

Baron sniffed the glass and wrinkled his nose slightly. »Don’t tell me you don’t know Micheladas!« I cried out indignantly, placing my hand over my heart.

Baron furrowed his brow and stared at me bewildered, as if I had asked him to strip right here on the spot. I had to laugh and was glad the relaxed atmosphere had returned. »Okay, listen up.« I raised the shot glass. »First, you drink a cinnamon-tequila before the meal... or several...« My grin grew wider as Baron still hadn’t moved. »And a Michelada is a typical Mexican cocktail. It includes chili flakes and sea salt on the rim of the glass.« I pointed to it. »It also contains lime juice, Worcestershire sauce, Tabasco, and Mexican lager beer.«

»That sounds terrible,« he replied with a disgusted expression.

»Don’t tell me you only know obscenely expensive bourbons and champagne?«

»To be honest, I haven’t had alcohol in ages.« He laughed a little sheepishly.

»How come? You don’t drink alcohol?«

»I work, and a massive hangover isn’t exactly conducive to my success.«

I set the shot glass back on the table and pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger. »Hold on, let me digest that for a second.« I looked at him. »Do you know what that sounds like to me?«

»You’re going to tell me,« he replied, amused.

»Pretty boring!« I picked up the shot glass again. »I’m not saying alcohol is always a good thing, and one should definitely stay away from it when feeling sad. But damn, tonight we’re enjoying life, Crisis!«

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