“This is my cue to leave,” I said.

“No. You’re not leaving. She is.” Rock walked into the restaurant.

Five minutes later he walked back out. “She’s not my date, but she’s refusing to leave without making a scene. Do you have another table for the two of us? I’ll make it worth your while.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Wolfe. We’re booked solid.”

Rock went rigid. “Let me tell you something. This is the last time my family comes to this place. You screwed up. She’s not my date.”

I tugged on his arm. “Then how did she know you’d be here?”

“She saw it on my calendar, apparently.”

“And how did some strange woman have access to your calendar?”

He sighed. “It’s a long story.”

“Apparently we’re not going to have dinner, so start talking. Seems we’ve got all evening.”

“No. Fucking no. Set another place at the table,” he said. “My date and I are going to eat. Then, call the police and have Ms. Romero escorted out.”

“That would cause a scene,” the maître d’ said.

“Do I look like I care?” he asked, seething. “She will leave. She can’t afford to eat here.”

“Who is this woman, Rock?”

“A blast from the past,” he said. “One I really don’t want to deal with.”

“I think you’re going to have to deal with her.”

“Unfortunately, you’re right, but trust me. This won’t take long.” He headed into the restaurant.

Should I follow? I had no idea. In the end, though, my curiosity won. I wanted a look at this “blast from the past.”

“Ma’am,” the maître d’ said, “was he serious when he asked me to call the police?”

“I’ve never known him not to be serious. And he will boycott this place, I assure you. He and his entire family. I’d do what he asks.”

The man nodded. “Very well, then.”

I headed into the restaurant.

Rock stood at the edge of a table secluded in a corner. A very private table. I smiled. He’d arranged this for us, and at the moment, another woman was in my seat.

Not for long.

The woman was indeed beautiful. Fair skin, dark hair, and an emerald sequined dress with a plunging neckline. Bigger breasts than I ever hoped to have, and a biker tat on her shoulder.

It worked for her.

I was still in my work clothes, and God himself only knew what my hair looked like.

This woman was everything I wasn’t at the moment.

“The police are on their way, Nieves,” Rock was saying. “You can either leave now or be escorted out.”

The woman simply shrugged and then lifted her brow when she met my gaze. “Is this your lovely date?”

“She is. Have a seat, Lacey.”