Chapter 20 Leticia
LETICIA
PARTY ANIMALS
“Hello.” I wonder if Royal can hear my smile when I greet him on the phone.
“Oh, thank god.” Royal sighs dramatically. “It rang more than twice, and I thought you were standing me up.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” I laugh. “I’m the one who asked you to call tonight, remember?”
“I don’t know, maybe this was how you were planning to end our friendship, stand me up or something.” He yawns before continuing. “In all seriousness, it’s good to hear your voice.”
“It’s good to hear yours.” I keep looking at the contents of the refrigerator, like they’ll magically morph into something interesting to eat.
“So, what is the cohost doing tonight?” Royal’s voice changes in volume and quality, like he goes from one microphone to another. Whatever he’s using now is much crisper and clearer. It’s a noticeable difference with how I’m holding my phone to my ear.
“Well, I’m currently glaring at the contents of the refrigerator, demanding that they change into something delicious to eat.” I give up and close the refrigerator door.
“Possibly a dumb question” — Royal pauses for a beat — “but why don’t you just order food from somewhere? You’re in Gold Coast. It has some of the best restaurants in all of Chicago.”
“True.” I think about the restaurants in the surrounding blocks. “But how do you know they’re the best?”
“The awards they earn are public record?” Royal’s quick to defend himself, but in a more meek voice, he says, “Listen, I’m just a man who likes to eat. A little thing like boundaries hasn’t ever stopped me from finding a way to get food.”
I gasp, pulling my hand to my chest as I pace the kitchen. “Scandalous! You’ve been coming to D’Medici territory for food?!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, let’s not make it sound nefarious like that.
I occasionally will blur the lines of who belongs where to send a delivery driver from neutral territory to D’Medici territory to bring me what I desire.
But I personally have respected the boundary between our families ninety-eight percent of the time,” Royal admits with such a sly tone.
“The other two percent was for coffee because I wasn’t about to go to that stupid fuckin’ chain when a perfectly good local shop was around the corner. ”
“Well, I think that’s probably negligible. We wouldn’t want the chain stores to get too uppity about themselves.” I walk over to the drawer where I keep some takeout menus hidden under tea towels.
“Decide to order in?” Royal asks, and I pause.
I get that feeling like I’m being watched again, but it’s not a menacing feeling. It’s kind of comforting to not be alone.
I shake my head. “Yeah, there’s this Chinese place I can hardly ever order from because Dad’s too racist despite being an immigrant himself, and Mom is unadventurous.” I sigh, looking over the menu. There are so many options, and they all sound so good.
“My parents just went out to dinner. They’re bringing me back a half duck and sweet potato fries. Maybe they’ll get back at the same time as your food arrives and we can eat together.” He offers, and I welcome the change in subject from my trauma dumping.
“That’d be great. But what should I order?” I drum my fingers on the counter before putting the phone on speaker and setting it in front of me.
“What are the options?” Royal tries to help.
“Should I send you pictures of the menu?” I reach for my phone again.
“Or the name of the restaurant. I bet they have an online menu?”
Moving my hand from my phone, I flip the menu over like I haven’t looked at it a hundred times just to double-check the name. “Oh, fair. It’s called Lion’s Den.”
I don’t hear any clicking coming from his side of the phone.
“This place looks delicious.” Royal hums. “What was that noise about?”
“What noise?” I stop breathing, trying to listen.
“You made this little grumbling noise, like you’re displeased or something.”
“I don’t remember making a noise,” I say but now start questioning it.
“What were you thinking about?” Royal probes a little harder.
All I can do is pretty much think about you lately. My face turns hot, and I scrunch my nose up, hoping for a positive response. “I couldn’t hear you typing.”
“Oh, I’m using my tablet.” He explains without a pause. “We could video call — that is —” he stammers, “if you want.”
Is he nervous? I’m thrown off base on multiple levels. Video call is a new step.
“Yeah. That’d be okay. I’ll warn you, I didn’t look great in the photo I sent you, but now, after a day out and about, it’s a lot worse.” I quickly step to the drawer where I keep extra hair ties and try to wrangle my hair from the blonde mess of flyaways into a presentable pony.
“Well, I’m in sweatpants, and I think my T-shirt has a stain on it.” Royal almost sounds embarrassed, maybe? “I should probably change shirts.”
“Gasp!” I fake the noise. “A stain? Unacceptable. My friends can never have a stain.” I’m giggling by the time I get the last word out. “Seriously.” I draw a deep breath to pull myself together. “I’m not worried about a stain.”
“Good, because I’m not worried about however badly you think you look. I’m sure you’re perfect.” Royal turns my words, the entire sentiment, back against me.
I stop trying to wrangle my hair and let it fall back loose around my shoulders because I can hear how much he means it. His honesty resonates in my bones.
“If you’re sure.” I tap the video call button on my phone and pick it up.
“Positive,” Royal answers, and a second later, his face comes into view. “There you are, gorgeous.”
He smiles widely when he says that, and it looks so genuine. He’s animated and full of life.
I push past the stupid grin that wants to form on my face when he calls me that. “Okay, so you’re having what for dinner?”
“Duck and sweet potatoes.”
I go back to looking at the menu, but I want to be watching him. I think he has a dimple when he smiles, but I can’t be sure without seeing it some more.
“Duck is like chicken. So if I have chicken, it’s almost like we’re eating the same meal.” I look back at my phone. “Not really, but close enough.”
“What’s your go-to chicken meal?” Royal moves, and the background behind him spins.
I try to catch glimpses of what is in the room with him, but he fills up too much of the frame.
“Well, normally I like General Tso’s chicken and snow peas or honey chicken.” I look at options and try to decide.
“Order them all, then you can eat a little bit of each.” Royal seems to read my mind.
“Doesn’t that seem excessive?” I eye the potstickers and crab rangoons on the menu too.
“Pftt,” Royal huffs. “You’re supposed to order an inordinate amount of Chinese food. It’s like a rule. If you don’t order enough food to feed at least three people more than are attending said meal, it’s against the law.”
“The law, hmmm?” I shake my head and look at him on the screen.
He nods, his brown hair flopping with the movement. “Trust me, I’m a food-ordering expert.”
“Okay, fine.” I concede.
“Good, because I already put in an order with those three, some potstickers, crab rangoons, sweet and sour sauce, and sugar buns.” He’s beaming.
“What? How?” My jaw drops.
His Cheshire cat grin comes with a nonchalant shrug. “They have online ordering, it’s not exactly a secret where you live, and because we’re eating together, it kinda makes this like a date.”
He wants to date me? I try to hold back my excitement.
He backpedals a second. “Friend date, if we have to call it that.”
“Sure.” My heart falls, but I don’t dare let my smile fade.
I know I’m swimming in dangerous waters. The pool of emotions is deep and turbulent. If I allow myself to be pulled away from the safe shores of friendship, nothing will save me from the reality of drowning when the time comes to marry someone else.
But Royal smiles. “Want to pick out a movie to watch while we eat?”
I’m distracted from the perilous situation again. “Absolutely.”