So I was able to avoid running into Asher at the restaurant. I dawdled long enough at the fryer that he was gone by the time my uncle called me back to the dining room for another song, and I dragged myself in front of the customers again.
But he knew where I worked now, so this could be bad.
I was going to have to do some serious damage control to keep him away from girl-me.
By the time I finished my shift, I’d forgotten that he’d text-bombed me right before I sang. So when I started to call him, I was surprised to see all his old messages awaiting me. They went a little something like:
1. Holy shit! I found her.
2. What’s the name of the girl who works at your family’s restaurant? The one with the purple streaks in her hair?
3. Never mind. I just learned it.
I frowned, trying to recall anyone calling me Remy, but then I remembered... Tío Alonso had called me Elisa. A few times.
4. Call me as soon as you get off work.
Blowing out a breath, I dialed him, not sure what to say but determined to throw him off the scent of…well, me.
Yeah, I couldn’t believe I was going to do that, either.
“Hey,” he answered, and I swear, the cheer and smile in his voice lit me up from the inside.
“Hey,” I murmured right back, still not sure what to tell him because I knew he was going to ask about her... I mean, me.
He was going to ask about me.
“So...” And here it came. “I know someone you can set me up with.”
“Hmm?” My throat went immediately dry. I played dumb. “What?”
“That girl at Casta?eda’s, your family’s Mexican restaurant. Elisa, right?”
Oh...hell. He really thought my name was Elisa. “Elisa?” I said slowly.
But seriously. Me? He wanted me to set him up with me? For a split second, I envisioned it. I could use my slutty se?orita voice, pretend I was someone named Elisa, and I could finally get my hands on Asher Hart, the way I’d been craving.
But then reality set in.
No, I couldn’t do that to him. I absolutely could not. I just...I wouldn’t.
“You’ll never believe this. But she’s shower girl. From Chicago.”
Words failed me. What the hell did I say now? Finally, I stuttered, “No shit?”
“Yeah, and she’s related to you, right? You said everyone who worked there was related. What is she, a cousin or something?”
“Sure,” I said, not knowing how else to answer.
He gave a laugh. “You don’t sound too certain of that.”
I shrugged and flailed out my hand. “Well, you know...complicated Mexican family trees and all that.”
“Ahh,” he murmured as if he understood but was honestly more confused than ever. “So, you really don’t know what she was doing in Chicago? In our hotel room?”
“Well, uh, I... I guess I did know she’d be there that weekend, and I told her where I was staying, but I hadn’t thought she’d stopped by to see me. Maybe, uh, maybe when I went to meet you for breakfast, I left the door unlocked or something, and she stopped by then and just...needed to borrow the shower. I...I’ll have to ask her about that.”
“Yeah...definitely do that. And...why didn’t you realize who I was talking about when I mentioned the purple streaks, since you were obviously expecting her?”
Damn it, Asher, I almost growled. Stop making me think up more lies.
“Are they purple?” I asked, then laughed. “I thought they were a grayish color.”
Big T always teased me that they looked gray instead of purple.
“No,” Asher’s voice echoed through my ear. “They’re clearly a light purple.”
Thank you, I almost told him. I was glad some people didn’t see gray.
“So you think you can do it?” he pressed.
I blinked and shook my head. “Do what?”
He sighed. “Set me up with her?”
He seemed so eager...to meet me. Me! This powerful zap of energy bolted through me and I suddenly felt more alive than I ever had before. Asher wanted me. Female me. I kind of wanted to scream and dance and hug the entire world.
But yeah...reality and all that.
My own disappointment crashed through me as I slowly said, “No....I can’t do that, sorry.”
Silence.
He wasn’t expecting that answer. He honestly thought I’d help him out. Then he slowly asked, “Because of your own feelings for me? Or because she’s your cousin?”
Since hurt laced his voice, I quickly assured him, “No, no. It has nothing to do with...either of those things.”
When I floundered, trying to come up with an answer that might appease him, he said, “Does she already have a boyfriend?”
“No.” Crap! Yes! I should’ve said yes, and that would’ve stopped him in his tracks. Damn it, why was I so stupid?
“Then....?”
“You don’t want to go out with her,” I blurted, not sure what else to say.
He laughed. “Yes, I do. I just told you I did.”
“No...” I shook my head adamantly, even though he couldn’t see me. “You don’t.”
“Why?”