“Not really, I have thick skin. But don’t assume I decide who to sleep with based only on how they look. Last time I slept with a woman only because she had a big rack, I was eighteen and in high school. So, when was the last time you slept with someone only because they had a nice ass?”

Totally against my will, an image of his perfectly round buns wrapped in white boxer briefs slips before my eyes. Those are buttocks that could definitely make me skip the need for an emotional connection.

I swallow, hoping I’m not blushing too hard. “I haven’t… I mean… not really.” At my visible embarrassment, his features soften a little. “Okay,” I concede. “You’ve made your point. I won’t make superficial assumptions about you from now on. Sorry.”

He finally smiles. “Apology accepted, boss.”

I try to bring the conversation back to its original track. “So, you asked me on a date. Why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

“What made you give up a job for me? If we tell that story, either my mom or my sister is going to ask why you were instantly smitten with me.”

“Why? They can’t accept a man could just ask you out?”

“We’re women, we need details.”

“Okay, I’ll have an answer for when they ask.”

“Can’t you share it with me first?”

“No,” he says, smirking. “It isn’t ready yet.”

I scowl at him.

“Don’t worry.” Diego leans forward in his chair. “I’ll come up with something cheesy enough to sate your mom and sister’s romance cravings.”

I stare at him, unconvinced.

“Hey, I’m good at this stuff, I swear.” He makes the Boy Scout salute.

I sure hope he is, with what I’m paying him. And if it turns out he sucks, I hope Mom and Julia will be too distracted by how good he looks to notice.

“Okay,” I say. “I’m going to trust you on this. Oh, one last detail: What was the ad for?”

“Deodorant,” Diego says without hesitation.

“Deodorant?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with it?”

“It isn’t very romantic.”

“We can say perfume or chocolate if you prefer, but deodorant makes it sound less staged, more real.”

He has a point. “Deodorant it is.”

An email flashes on my phone screen, and I get a peek of the time as well. “Wow, it’s super late. Don’t you have to be at the mall in like twenty minutes?”

He stares at his watch. “You’re right.”

We both get up, don our jackets, and exit the coffee shop in a hurry. It doesn’t take long to be back at my building, where we stop outside to say goodbye.

“The subway is that way,” I say. “I hope I haven’t made you too late?”