Page 32 of The Enforcer

They talked about this and that while he drove. Mary was really enthused about their house, and he loved how she talked about ‘them’ sprucing up the place. He didn’t care about decorating, didn’t have her style for sure, but he liked that she asked about his preferences.

Half an hour later, he parked in front of the restaurant in one of San Fran’s high-end neighborhoods.

“The L’Auberge?” Mary seemed surprised at his choice.

“Yeah. Place is supposed to be hot and trending, with a to die for amuse-bouche or something.” Tommie had rattled on about the dish. He hoped they served it in plates, because he was starving.

“Ah yes, their amuse-bouche.” She smiled. “Tommie couldn’t stop raving about it.”

The maître D’ was awaiting them from behind the desk, his nose a mile in the air. Hector didn’t like the way the asshole gave him a curt onceover, and dismissed him. When his eyes landed on Mary, his eyes shone, though.

“Do you have a reservation, sir?”

If his voice became any more haughty, he was going to float up to the ceiling.

“Try Detta,” Hector said, as he looked around.

The place had white walls, glass up to the ceiling, and a chandelier that gave too much light. In fact, everything was too much. Too fancy, too licked, too… fake. Still, it was the poshest place in town and, according to Tommie, they had great food.

A waiter led them to their table next to the fire place.

“Thank you for this,” Mary said as they sat down. “I mean, I know our engagement isn’t exactly textbook, but I like that you try to make it as normal as it is.”

He decided that she had no idea. She really believed that he was this self-sacrificing hero person that was throwing himself on a blade. Little did she know that the situation with Zoe had been the perfect excuse to snare her. Yes, he had resisted at first, but once he’d decided that she would be his, he was all in. If he had asked her to marry him, she could—would—have refused. But now, he had her without having to have faced rejection. And there would be no take-backsies. He’d told her that up front.

“Wearea normal couple,” he stipulated. “I don’t care how we came to be. So, we do things a bit backward. You know, having dinner and getting to know each other after getting engaged, but that doesn’t make it any less real.”

“You really mean that.”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I hadn’t meant it.” Growing up, he didn’t have anything else but his word. He could buy her the world now, but he wanted her to know that his word would be enough.

Speaking of buying the world, he pulled out a small box from inside his jacket.

She took the box and opened it. “It’s beautiful,” she said softly.

Remembering how she reacted to the big mansions, he’d opted for a simple wedding band. It was in white gold and held only one small stone.

Mary leaned over the table and gave him a kiss. Their eyes met, and he got a weird feeling in his stomach. He hoped he wasn’t coming down with something.

The waiter took their drinks and handed them their menus. To his dismay, it was solely written in French.

Pretentious fucks.

“Problem?”

“Don’t know French,” he admitted.

“How about I order for both of us?” She looked at him hesitantly, and he realized she expected him to throw a fit, or maybe make this a pride issue. Except, he was just proud that she knew French.

“Feed me, baby. I like anything with meat.”

When the waiter returned, she did just that. Hector’s gaze once again roamed the fancy restaurant. It reeked of old money and entitled people. The soft piano music did nothing to squelch the feeling that he didn’t belong in here.

“You miss this?” he asked.

“Miss what?”

“All of this. The fancy restaurants, the big mansion. Basically, everything you had when your grandfather was still alive. Why did you move to a shitty apartment anyway? You had to know Gio would’ve set you up wherever you wanted.”

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