My Million Dollar Secret by Riley Flowers

Author:Riley Flowers [Flowers, Riley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-12-06T16:00:00+00:00

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“What was your favorite restaurant when you were growing up around here?”

Emily turns to me and smiles. “You'll think I'm nuts.”

“Honestly, I'm probably not going to know it. You grew up around here, not me,” I chuckle. “I'm not going to know whether you're nuts or not.”

“I just mean, I'm sure being the big-shot-billionaire kinda guy, you probably like those super posh, elitist as hell places,” she giggles.

“You'd be surprised,” I tell her. “But you also seem to forget that I know how you grew up. You probably those super posh, elitist as hell places just as well as me.”

“Touché,” she relents. “Asshole.”

Her laughter is a beautifully melodic sound. I haven't heard it enough since we got back from Portland – that's something I need to remedy. The simple sound of her laughter makes me happy in ways I don't quite understand. But then, I don't think I need to understand something just to enjoy it, either.

“So? Where are we going?”

“The place is called El Zapato Rojo,” she says.

“The red shoe?” I chuckle. “You're actually taking me to a place to eat called the red shoe?”

“You told me to name my favorite place,” she replies with a shrug.

I give her a grin. “Fair enough. I did.”

I tell the driver the name of the restaurant and he looks it up on the GPS before heading in that direction.

“So, what is it about this place?” I ask, leaning back in my seat.

“Aside from it being the most amazing Mexican food you're going to find north of the border, the people there are so kind and down to earth,” she says, a smile touching her lips. “It's family-owned and they are such wonderful people. They really make you feel like one of the family.”

“You had me at amazing Mexican food.”

She laughs. “I'll warn you now, though, it's a bit of a hole in the wall,” she goes on. “My dad introduced me to the place when I was about – seven, I think. Been eating there ever since.”

At the mention of her father, a shadow of her grief passes over her face the way a cloud crosses the face of the sun, but disappears quickly, allowing that bright light to shine through again.

“You trying to say I’ll think I'm too good for this place?” I ask, feigning offense.

“You think you're too good for most places,” she fires back.

I shrug. “That's only because I am. They should probably pay me for walking through their doors and gracing their establishment with my presence.”

Emily rolls her eyes and I laugh – though, I don't think she was entirely joking, or think that I was kidding either. I look at her closely, really scrutinizing her eyes, searching for her tell as I ask the next question.

“Do you really think I believe I'm too good for some places? Or people?”

Emily shrugs. “I don't think you do it intentionally. I think it's more a function of how you grew up,” she offers. “But yeah, sometimes you can be a little bit – arrogant.

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