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backs are to the wall, so Freddy can have a good look at the whole restaurant. Jorge looks annoyed, and Freddy looks like he always does. There’s a good chance he just told Jorge to fuck himself.

There’s a server headed our way, but Noah says, “I’ve got this one.”

He’s not doing it for the tip. He understands this is business. He looks at Mona.

“You look like a Rum Runner-kind of girl. Maybe a Sex on the Beach,” he says with a grin.

She blinks. Damn, I’ve never seen her shittiness waylaid so easily.

“You choose,” she says, and Lucas turns wide eyes at her. Apparently this is new for him, too.

“What about you, boss?” Noah asks Lucas.

Wait for it.

“Unsweet tea.”

“Izzy, you like dark beer, right? I have an Italian that’s damn good.”

How does he even remember that?

“I’ll take it.”

“Water for you, sunshine?” he asks Freddy.

“Fuck off,” Freddy says, but there’s no real venom in it.

“So yes. And…”

“Water,” says Jorge.

“Sure thing,” says Noah, and he disappears.

My eyes land on Jorge. He’s watching me, too.

I say, “My clients have reviewed your revised offer, and they feel it is reasonable. They request a detailed description of who will be making pickups, how they will be paying, and how the product will be protected financially. I know how the fronts work, but they would like some assurance that there will be no records that indicate their involvement with you.”

Jorge’s shoulders visibly relax, and I have to wonder if he expected me to try to go higher again. At this point, I want this shit to be over.

He says, “That should be easy enough, although I’ll need a few more days. My schedule is extremely busy right now.”

That’s a few days too many for my patience for this situation.

Noah returns with our drinks, and as he sets them down, I say, “Considering how hard Abuela is pushing this, I’d imagine you can make time to get your information together.”

Noah dutifully pretends he doesn’t hear anything. He also doesn’t ask if we want to order food. He just walks away.

Jorge’s lips thin and he releases a long breath through his nose. He doesn’t like me. I can see it all over his face. He wants to say something shitty, but he can’t risk offending Mona.

“I will have it to you as soon as possible,” he says with a tight jaw.

I take a long drink of my beer, and I notice that Freddy’s eyes are looking past me, tracking. The nerves stir again. I know Maria is here without having to look. I bet it’s silently killing Freddy that he’s sitting here, and there’s no one watching her back.

Ok. Deal with this shit first. I look to Mona, who seems to be enjoying her fruity drink.

“Is there anything else we’d like to address?”

She shakes her head.

“Then I guess we’re done here,” I say to Jorge.

He nods. By the way his eyes are narrowed, and his forehead is furrowed, he’s pretty pissed. He stands and looks expectantly at Freddy.

Freddy just stares back until Jorge walks away. Then he looks at me and nods. He gets up and walks to the bar.

This will give me time to decide how I’m going to approach this. Despite all the time I’ve had to think about it, I still don’t know. I could go the dick route, but I don’t think it’s warranted.

I can hear Freddy and Maria speaking fast Spanish to each other. Even after all this time, I recognize her voice. I’d be hard pressed to forget what she sounds like when she comes.

As I take a long drink, Noah returns.

“Did you want to eat?”

I don’t think my stomach can handle food, so I hold up my mostly empty bottle. Mona chooses some kind of wrap, and fuck Lucas. Just before Noah walks away, Maria approaches the table.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Noah says, giving her a one-armed hug.

He leaves and she takes the seat where Freddy had just been. She doesn’t say anything at first. She just looks at me. She’s reading me, like I’m reading her.

She’s thin, too thin. Her hair is long, down against her shoulders. She’s wearing little denim shorts and a tank top. And goddammit if she’s not more beautiful than I remember.

“Excuse me, what are you doing?” Mona says. There’s all that bitch I’ve been missing.

Oh yeah. I didn’t tell her about this part of the meeting. This should be fun.

Maria’s gaze slides to Mona and goes icy. There’s absolutely no question who is the badass here. Mona may be a heartless bitchface, but she’s never blown up a building with a bunch of people in it. The tension is thick enough to choke on, but Maria doesn’t say a word, she just looks back at me.

“You look good, Isaiah,” she says.

My name on her lips is something I never thought I’d hear again. It has the same libido-stirring effect it always has. Why did I think this was a good idea? Fuck.

Beside me, I can tell that Mona is raging. She’s gone stiff and still. I wonder how much worse I can make it.

“So do you. Memories do not do justice,” I answer. Well, I guess I’m not being a dick.

Noah comes by with my beer, and one for Maria. How could I forget that she likes dark beer, too. She points the neck in my direction. What the hell, why not? I clink mine against hers.

She tips the bottle up and takes a healthy drink. Then she says, “Where did you go, when you left us?”

My eyes don’t leave her as I take my drink. Is this real? She actually just wanted to see me? Inevitably, I wonder, does she miss me?

“Florida. Cape Canaveral. I got a job on a fishing trawler.”

She’s quiet for a while, then she says, “You know, that absolutely makes sense. I bet you loved it.”

“I did,” I agree. I hook a thumb toward Mona, and add, “And then this bitch showed up.”

Mona’s head snaps toward me, but I ignore her.

Maria studies me,

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