She stood, wishing she could look directly into his eyes. Oh, well. Looking up would have to do. “First, it’s not polite to loom. And second, well, now you know what it feels like.”

His gaze burned into hers. “I. Didn’t. Steal. Your. Idea,” he said, enunciating every word. “And this”—he thrust a hand at the band—“is beyond the pale. I’m trying to run a business here.”

“Yeah. I know.” Annika gestured grandly at her table. “So am I.”

Shaking his head, Hudson rubbed his jaw and took a breath, muttering something that sounded very much like “stubborn” under his breath. Annika tried not to grin. Let him get all frustrated for a change. He studied her face again and smiled thinly, his eyes narrowing just a tad. “Okay. This is how you want to play it?”

Annika raised an eyebrow and cocked her head, but didn’t say anything.

Hudson turned and stalked away to his side of the rooftop, every step brimming with irritation. As Annika watched, he went to the sound system and cut the music he’d been playing—and then, after clapping his hands to get people’s attention, he announced in a voice like a foghorn, “All right, everybody! Listen up! It’s a margarita mariachi party! The bartender’s going to make you margaritas in flavors you’ve never even dreamed of before. Oh, and please, enjoy our guest band and dance the night away!” He gestured toward the mariachi band as if it were all his brilliant idea.

People cheered and roared with happiness. Catching Annika’s eye across the crowd, Hudson picked a fresh drink off the bar and raised the glass to her. One corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk.

Fuming, Annika turned to June, who was looking at her with wide eyes. She took a slug of agua fresca. “Dammit.”

June took a bite of her taco and watched as the partygoers on the other side of the roof lined up to get margaritas from the bartender, who was making them in every color of the rainbow. “So … do you want to just sit here and eat?”

Annika looked at the people who’d already kicked off their shoes and were now dancing to the mariachi music. “Yes,” she said defiantly, turning back around and heaping her plate with tacos. “Let’s eat.”

chapter six