Chapter 6
"This is nice." Luther beamed at her from across the table.
They had been escorted to a table near the window which had a view of the streets.
La Cafeteria was a busy and bustling diner that catered to mostly the people in the business district and was run and operated by a rotund woman and her very thin, dark-haired daughter.
The woman called herself 'La Rosa' and could be heard chatting cheerfully with everyone who came in.
Her English accent was thick and her laughter loud.
Antoinette fell in love with the general ambience.
"It is," Antoinette agreed as she looked around.
"So, Antoinette, what are you having? I must remind you that my Spanish is lousy at best. I tend to butcher the pronunciation."
"So, I recall." Picking up the embossed menu, she scanned it. "The Tostada con tomate, aceite, y jamon sounds delicious. I had it at the palace and enjoyed the taste of it."
He gave her an admiring look at her perfect diction and accent.
"You speak the language very well."
"I have an ear for language." She gestured to the thin-looking woman who came over instantly and placed their orders.
"I'm happy you did not stand me up."
She gave him a curious stare over her glass of water. "Why would I do that?"
Shrugging elegant shoulders, he opened his napkin carefully. To her amusement, he tucked it precisely inside his collar.
"I've not had much luck with the ladies."
"Since you've been here?"
"Since before," he admitted ruefully. "I have to compliment you on your hair."
"Oh." She had decided against leaving it loose and had braided it to one side, the fat plait resting on her left breast.
"Thanks."
"And your eyes are magnificent," he continued.
She lifted a brow at him. "Are we going to spend the time we have itemizing my assets?"
He grinned at her sheepishly. "I'm very awkward around beautiful women."
"You're quite the charmer," she commented.
"You don't sound pleased with my compliments. I hope you don't think this is a pick-up line."
"It wouldn't matter." She paused when the waiter came over with their order.
"Gracias."
"De nada." The man flashed her a flirtatious smile before wandering away.
"The Spanish are a flirtatious lot," Luther remarked.
"So, I've discovered. Have you been back to the states since you've been living here?"
Luther considered pursuing the line of conversation he had started but decided not to push his luck.
"Once. Just to tie things up, get rid of my apartment and put my stuff in storage.
" He stirred extra cream in his coffee and took an appreciative sip.
"I have no family left back home, so there are no ties whatsoever. What about you? Any family?"
"It was just my mother and she died recently. So, no."
"I'm sorry for your loss."
She nodded.
"Now you're a big shot working at the palace." His eyes twinkled. "Have you had any reporters hassling you yet? Wanting to find out what goes on behind the walls of the lofty building?"
"I signed an NDA and even if that wasn't the case, I don't discuss my employers with anyone."
"That's a good principle. Not even with friends?" He looked so charmingly hopeful that she had to laugh.
"We're not friends."
"Now see, you've gone and hurt my feelings and here I thought we were on our way to being best friends.
" He grinned and toasted her with his coffee.
"We Americans have to stick together. I've seen the prince around.
He has been to the gallery a couple of times.
We have not spoken of course, because unlike his dear mother, the queen, the man is unapproachable. You've met him of course."
"Briefly." Picking up her cup, she took a sip and closed her eyes in delight. "This is very good."
"I think that's my cue to stop talking about things that don't concern me."
Antoinette eyed him over the rim of her cup. "You're a smart guy. I think we might be friends after all."
They spent the rest of the meal talking about the state of their country and the places they had been to.
"Well, this was pleasant."
"We ought to do it again." He settled the bill and insisted on leaving the tip as well. "I enjoyed myself."
"You're very easy to please," she commented.
"That I am. But being in the company of a beautiful woman and one who speaks a language I can readily understand is such a bonus. Where to now?"
"I was thinking of taking a walk in the market."
His eyes lit up. "I hope you won't think it too forward of me to ask if I can accompany you. It so happens that I need to pick up some produce as well." He quickly took her jacket and helped her on with it.
"Thanks. Not at all."
*****
She felt like a tourist. The market was filled with hawkers and buyers. Stalls with colorful fruits on full display were everywhere. The chatter rang out mostly in Spanish, with a few local dialects interspersed with English and several other languages.
Antoinette veered toward a cart with the fruits she had come to love: cherimoya, quince, and her personal favorite, loquat. Luther stepped back and watched as she haggled with the various vendors, speaking like a native.
Grabbing a basket, he carried it as she heaped fruits and vegetables before going on to the homemade crafts and local souvenirs.
"I have several people I would love to send things back home for," she murmured as she caught his look of curiosity.
"Which is why we're buying out the market," he said teasingly. He felt quite content to just follow her around and enjoy her presence.
She had a sparkling personality when she let down her guard. He wanted to ask her about the subtle vulnerability he saw on her lovely face but knew instinctively that it was too soon.
"Is the basket too heavy?"
He sent her a wounded look that had her grinning.
"You're offending my fragile manhood."
"I'm offering to help you with the load, but as usual, men think they're superheroes."
"Not superheroes precisely."
"But you just want to assure the 'little lady' that you're strong enough to bear the weight." She turned to pick up an unusual-looking pair of earrings and missed the pained look on his face.
"You don't have a favorable opinion of our sex, do you?"
"Not particularly." She started to speak to the vendor in Spanish, and he waited until she was finished.
"May I ask you a favor?"
Tucking the package into her tote, she slid him a glance as they continued on their way.
"Depends on the favor."
"At least get to know me before you start lumping me in with the rest."
She studied him for a minute as the crowd eddied around them.
"Fair enough." She glanced at her watch, surprised to see that she had been away from the palace for almost four hours and it was getting cloudy. "Now I really have to go."
He accompanied her to her vehicle where he stowed her things on the back seat.
"Is it too soon to ask for a second meeting?"
Sliding behind the wheel, she looked at him. "I have your number."
"You do," he murmured lightly, trying not to show his disappointment. "I enjoyed the date."
"It's not a date."
"I prefer to think of it as one."
"As you wish." She fired up the engine. "I will call. Thanks for a lovely time, Luther."
"My pleasure." Straightening, he stepped back and watched as she drove off with a wave.
He stood there for a moment, staring at the taillights and just grinned. He was going to keep on asking until she simply said yes. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants, he started whistling as he strolled toward his vehicle.
*****
The ceremonial red carpet had never been laid out for him.
He was always amused at the significance or lack of ceremony whenever he stepped foot inside the prestigious Elite Club.
He was certainly not the only royalty member; there were a few others as well.
He was from a long line of men who had walked the lofty halls of the club.
He recalled his father discussing the fact that times had changed and he was not certain he was up for those changes.
"Now they are allowing anyone who can afford to pay the exorbitant membership fee.
" The disgust had been evident in his voice.
"Nonentity rubbing shoulders with people of blue blood.
It's appalling." But then again, his father, King Eduardo Garcia-Perez, was known for his biases and had made no apologies for it.
He had not been well liked among his peers, which was not in the least bit surprising.
But Tomas had no such hang-ups. His father had stopped attending functions at the club when it had started to be overrun by what he called 'the minorities,' and had been horrified when members started marrying women of color.
He had just settled himself in the ivory booth when someone joined him.
"If it isn't the prince himself."
Leaning back, he studied the man sliding across from him.
"If it isn't CeeCee."
Christos Costas grimaced at the hated nickname. "Don't make me start calling you PT." He grinned at the pained look on his friend's face. "Don't dish if you can't take it. Why the hell aren't you at the lofty palace of yours?"
"Because I'm here. Why are you here? Aren't you a fairly newlywed with triplets?"
Christos' smile was wide. "My wife let me off the hook. There's a tournament here tomorrow that I will be taking part in. What's your excuse?"
"I'm on my way back from Italy." Tomas took a sip of the malt and looked around the room. He had chosen this particular one to avoid the crowd because he wanted to be alone for a little bit. "How's the marriage?"
"Still in the honeymoon stage. Leanne keeps me on my feet." He shook his head. "She's feisty and unpredictable and does not put up with any crap. I love her to death."
"You sound like a lovesick moron."
"And proud of it." Christos did not take offense. "You should try it."
"That kind of life isn't for me." In the past, he would have sounded more convincing.