Alex has been gone for four days. I know this because I’ve counted every hour he’s been gone. I’ve worked every day, hoping that time will pass faster, only it doesn’t. Each day, I come home and Rosa is here, cooking for me and trying to distract me, but it doesn’t work. This morning, as I lie in his bed, I send him a text. Three words.

“I miss you.”

I get nothing in return.

* * *

I slam the metal door on the coffee machine and press the start button before moving on to the next drip machine and repeating the process. Jax eyes me carefully, not approaching me. Obviously, my mood speaks to how I’m feeling this morning. He slowly scrawls the daily coffee special and a meaningful quote on the chalkboard. I love his quotes. I find myself looking forward to them every morning.

Today, however, I just don’t care.

Megan took the day off. She let us know yesterday that she’s so pleased with how well and efficiently we work together that she was leaving the shop to us today. It’s Friday, the busiest day of the week, but Jax and I assured her we could handle it. I need the busyness to keep my mind distracted anyway.

I stock the display case with pastries and muffins and prep the creamer, milk, and sugar station.

“Talk to me, sunshine,” Jax says sympathetically as he leans back against the counter. His legs are crossed in front of him and his arms are folded over his chest.

I sigh deeply and mimic his position on the counter behind me so we’re facing each other. “Just life.”

“Ah, come on. It’s more than that. You’re the most positive person I’ve ever met, Em. What’s got you all moody this morning? You haven’t been yourself for a couple of days.”

I shrug. “Just a lot on my mind.” To say the least.

He nods and twists his lips for a moment. “So, uh, I know we spend every day together, but do you, uh, want to go to a concert tonight? It’s a local band that one of my buddies plays in. They have a gig at a bar in Uptown Phoenix. Just friends.” He holds his hands up innocently. “Sounds like the cure for your mood. Music and shitty beer.”

I laugh at him, although the invitation sounds great. “That actually sounds really fun, but I’m going to have to pass. Can we do it another time?”

He frowns but doesn’t push it. “Yeah, they play pretty much every weekend. But I’m holding you to it. You need to get out, meet people, have a good time.”

He’s right, of course. Since I’ve come here, I’ve only met a handful of people. “I know, and I will. I promise.” I scold myself for being a homebody. I shouldn’t be waiting around for Alex.

He flings a towel at me, and I catch it before it hits me in the face. He laughs and walks around the counter to unlock the front door and get this day started. It’s insanely busy today. So much so that Jax and I barely say two words to each other that aren’t about making more coffee, refilling creamer, restocking pastries, or wiping down tables. It’s actually nice not worrying about checking my phone every hour on the hour.

When I look at the clock again, it’s two thirty and the next shift comes on at three. I’m wiping down tables while Jax finishes filling out paperwork from our shift and getting the day’s deposit ready, when the front door swings open.

It’s Sam. I haven’t seen him in the last two days, but he’s crossed my mind many times.

“Hey, stranger,” he says with a smile.

“Hey.” I’m surprised at how excited I sound.

“How’ve you been?”

“Good,” I lie. Because I’ve been shit. Total shit. And lonely. I wring the washcloth in my hands. There’s something familiar about the way Sam watches me, but I can’t put my finger on it. My stomach does a little dip.

“Can I take you to dinner tonight?” he asks. He’s direct. I like that about him.

“Ummm.” I wipe my sweaty palms on my hips and shift on my feet. In my periphery, Jax clears his throat loudly, but keeps his gaze on the paperwork. The silence is awkward, and I can see a hint of frustration on Sam’s face. He breaks up the silence by calling out to Jax.

“Hey, Jax.” I stall for time. “Can you get me a medium dark roast? Leave a little room,” Sam asks.

“You got it,” Jax says, dropping the paperwork on the counter and pulling a cardboard cup down from the shelf.

Sam walks away and takes a seat at a table, and I glance out the window at Andres, wondering how I’ll ever be able to shake him for the evening if I accept Sam’s invitation. I stay near the counter and fight with myself on whether I should go to dinner with him.

Jax sets Sam’s coffee in front of me. “Sunshine. Take the man up on it. It’s dinner.” He encourages me with his eyes, and I sigh.

Sam watches me intently as I walk his coffee over to him. He raises his eyebrows as I approach. “Coffee delivery. Nice,” he says as I set the hot coffee in front of him. His eyes go from humorous to sincere in one second as he asks me again, “Have dinner with me, Emilia. I’ve enjoyed talking to you, and I’d like to get to know you better.”

Heat crawls across my chest, and I scratch nervously at my neck. “I like talking to you too,” I admit. I feel like I’m betraying Alex by even considering this.

“Here.” He pulls out a piece of paper with his phone number scribbled on it. “My cell number is on there. It’s just dinner, Emilia.” He smirks at me. “Call or text when you get off work and let me know.” His lips pull into a full smile and his eyes beg me to say yes. “And I know you’re off work in the next half hour, so I expect an answer fairly soon.”

I chew nervously on my bottom lip. “Okay, I’ll let you know.”

He stands up and pulls a ten-dollar bill from his wallet. “For the coffee.”

“No. I’ve got this,” I stammer.

He rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Just take the money, Emilia.”

I shove his hand away as he laughs playfully, waving to get Jax’s attention. “Jax, your girl won’t take my money. She says it’s no good here.”

“Sunshine, take the man’s money,” Jax grumbles, shaking his head at us and our banter.

“I’ve gotta go. Talk to you soon, Emilia.” He slaps the ten on the counter on his way out.

Jax sighs, annoyed. “Sunshine, that man is into you.”

“No, he’s not.” I flush, embarrassed.

As Jax and I wrap up our shift and I’m hanging up my apron, Jax shuffles over and hands me another envelope with today’s tips. I shove it into my back pocket.

“Go to dinner with the man, sunshine. Put him out of his misery. Oh, and I want details on Monday.” I struggle for a moment, but I decide that dinner with a friend might be good for me.

“Deal.”

* * *

“Hi, Rosa!” I announce as I burst through the front door, suddenly excited for my dinner date tonight.

“Hi, mija.” She looks up from her cookbook.

“What’re you making?” I set my wallet and phone on the kitchen counter.

“Not sure yet. Looking for something to make you for dinner.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me.” I wave a hand at her. “I picked up an extra shift at the coffee shop tonight, so I won’t be around for dinner.” I feel terrible lying, but I can’t really tell her I’m going on a date either. “But maybe, tomorrow night, you could make me homemade macaroni and cheese?” I love that Rosa enjoys cooking, it’s a nice change of pace for me, after having to always prepare meals for the last ten years.

“That I can do.” She slams the cookbook closed. “Mr. Estrada had strict orders to make sure I feed you. Are you sure you’ll be okay without dinner tonight?”

“I will. I’ll grab a sandwich at work.”

Rosa shoves the cookbook back in the cupboard and pulls off her apron. Her dark hair is in a ponytail and her caramel skin is flawless with no make-up.

“Rosa, have you heard from him?”

She stills. Her back is facing me. “I haven’t.”

That’s what I thought. “I’m worried about him. He hasn’t called or returned any of my text messages.”

“I know you are,” she says sympathetically.

“He’s been gone all week, and I haven’t heard a word.” Unease settles into the pit of my stomach. I love Alex, but I’m angry that he could so easily pack up and leave for another country and not bother once to check in. I realize that maybe these feelings are unfounded. He said it himself. He couldn’t give me more, but I know he feels what I’m feeling. I can see it in his eyes and in his actions. But now, I’m not so sure. He left me and went to Mexico without so much as a goodbye.

I should probably feel guilty about going out with Sam, but I don’t. Sam feels safe to me, where Alex now feels reckless. I’m in love with Alex, but at what cost? Could I live with him vanishing to foreign countries and never checking in? I exhale loudly in frustration.

Rosa turns around and begins folding her apron before slipping it into a kitchen drawer. “It’s how it has to be, Emilia. Remember what I told you the other day. The less you know, the better.”

“I don’t want to know anything other than that he’s okay.”

“I know, sweetheart. If I hear from Mr. Estrada, I will let you know.” She offers me a sympathetic smile and places her hand on mine as she walks around me. “Well then, I’ll get here early tomorrow and make sure you have a nice breakfast.”

“No need to get here early,” I rush to say. Not sure how late I’ll be tonight. “I plan to sleep in tomorrow. It’s been a long week. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I grab my phone and head into my bathroom to run a warm bath. I dump bubble bath into the water and twist my hair into a bun, then send a quick text message to Sam, agreeing to meet him for dinner. He responds almost immediately with the name of a Mexican restaurant, and I tell him I’ll meet him there. I spend the next half hour soaking in the warm, lilac-scented water, scheming up a plan to lose Andres—which is looking like it could be a chore in and of itself.

After my bath, I spend an ungodly amount of time getting ready for dinner. I change into a floral print shift dress and curl my hair so that it hangs long and wavy. I touch up my makeup and slip my feet into a pair of wedge sandals.

The condo is silent, but I know I’m being watched, evidenced by the security cameras all over the place. I try not to look suspicious, so I keep my normal routine, stopping by the refrigerator for a bottle of water, playing around on my phone, then slipping out the front door. I shake my head when I think that Alex probably knows my every move and that’s why he hasn’t called or responded to my text. Between the security cameras and Andres, he has to know every move I make. It angers me that he’s not considerate enough to address my concern for him in return.

The downtown streets are emptying out for the evening, and it’s not long before I sense Andres nearby. I don’t bother to look over my shoulder anymore—I know he’s there. I follow the same path I always do to Café Au Lait. Pulling open the front door, I step into the dimly lit café. It looks so different in the evening; peaceful, actually. The lights are turned down, the music is less upbeat, more calming. The place is full of students studying and people on their laptops.

I see Holly behind the counter with her bright red hair and porcelain skin. We met briefly yesterday as I was leaving and she was coming in. “Hi, Holly,” I greet her.

She smiles widely. “Hi, Emilia. What brings you here?”

“I think I left my cell here this afternoon. Have you seen it?” I feel bad lying to Holly, but I need to create a distraction so I can lose Andres.

“I haven’t. You might want to check Megan’s office. If Jax found it, he may have put it on her desk.” She nods to the closed door of the backroom that doubles as Megan’s office. A couple people line up at the counter, and I set my wallet down to help her, still stalling for time.

“Here.” I step out of the way. “I’ll ring them up, you make coffee.” I smile at her. I ring up the two customers and glance out the front window, finding Andres in his normal position. Perfect.

“You’re all set,” I tell her when the line has dwindled. “I’m just going to check the back for my phone, and I’ll let myself out the back door.”

“Sounds good. Thanks for the help, Emilia.”

I give her a goodbye wave and step into the dark office. Flipping on the lights, I close the door behind me, and push open the alley door. A blast of heat hits me in the face and I squint against my dry eyes. If I go right, I’ll end up on the main street again where Andres will see me. Going left will take me a couple blocks over without being noticed. I follow the map on my phone and find I’m six blocks away from the Mexican restaurant where I’m meeting Sam.

Two wooden doors adorn the entrance. They appear to be hand carved and heavy, with large, iron hinges holding them in place. How quaint. I wait for Sam outside the entrance on an intricate bench that matches the doors. Clouds are building out east, much like they have all week, and they look like large cotton balls in the sky. There is a slight breeze, and the hot, dry air stings my nostrils.

“Have you been waiting long?” Sam’s deep voice pulls me away from my daydreaming.

“No. I just got here.” I stand up to meet him.

He pulls me into a short hug and kisses my cheek. “Let’s go inside. I’ve got reservations for us at seven.” He holds the door open for me, ever the gentleman. Inside, a hostess meets us and recognizes Sam, her eyes widening a bit at the sight of me next to him.

“Mr. Cortez.” She smiles warmly at him.

“Savannah,” he acknowledges her.

“Your table is ready.” She guides us to a small table in the back. The glow of a candle centerpiece creates a wonderful ambience. Its iron base is twisted into the same design as the door handles I noticed earlier. Someone designed this place impeccably.

Sam pulls out the chair for me, and our server immediately descends upon the table with a basket of chips and a small clover-shaped dish with different sauces. Sam orders us sparkling water and pomegranate margaritas.

“I hope you like Mexican food. Those are different flavors of salsa.” He smiles at me and points to the clover-shaped dish.

“I’ve never really had it. Wait, I take that back.” I tap my chin. “On the bus ride to Arizona, we stopped at a Taco Bell. Their nachos are amazing.”

“Taco Bell,” he scoffs. “That’s not Mexican food. And nachos? You mean processed cheese drizzled on stale chips? If you want to taste some amazing nachos, I’ll order you some nachos.”

I light up at the idea, setting my menu aside. “Nachos would be great.”

“I’ll tell you what. I’m going to order a bunch of stuff, but…” His eyes glimmer with amusement. “You have to try it all.” My eyes must widen in horror, and he amends, “Just a bite. I swear this is the best Mexican food outside of Mexico itself.”

Mexico. Instantly, I’m thinking about Alex, wondering about him, worrying. Again. I wonder what he’s doing. If he’s safe. When he’ll be back. My stomach tightens with worry about him, but I shove those thoughts aside when the server brings us our drinks.

“Tell me what you think of the pomegranate margarita.” He licks some of the salt off his glass with his tongue, and, to my surprise, heat pools in my belly when I watch him.

My heart stammers, but then I feel guilty. I’m sleeping with Alex, I’m in love with Alex, and yet I can’t take my eyes off the gorgeous man across from me. I mimic him and swipe some of the salt from the rim of my own glass, sipping on the sweet drink. The saltiness mixed with the sweetness and the slight after-burn from the tequila, make for a dangerous combination.

“Oh my god, this is amazing.” I take another drink.

“Slow down there, tiger.” He chuckles. “These are strong, and as much as I’d love to see you tipsy, I don’t intend on getting you drunk on our first date.” First date. Those words cause my stomach to flip.

“Huh, a date.” I laugh nervously. “Is that what this is? I thought it was just dinner,” I joke with him. I know it’s a date.

“It is. It’s a dinner date.”

He’s quick with his comebacks. I like that. I blush a little as I say, “And you said ‘first date,’ as if you’re implying there will be more than one?”

Sam takes a long pull of his margarita before setting it down. “Oh, there’ll be more than one, Emilia.” He’s confident, but not arrogant. I find myself very attracted to that. There’s something about him that reminds me of Alex; they’re both dominant and controlling.

A shiver runs up my spine, and I shake my head slowly. “We’ll see about that.”

He busts out laughing. “This is exactly why I’m attracted to you. You’re beautiful, and I can tell you’re smart. But most importantly, you don’t put up with anybody’s shit.” I’ve been putting up with Alex’s, I think to myself. I’ve become weak to Alex.

“You mean your shit,” I correct him, and we both laugh.

My phone starts ringing on the table and Alex’s name flashes across the screen. Holy shit! He’s finally calling me. My heart is in my throat, and I’m desperate to answer it, but I can’t do that in front of Sam—for many reasons.

Sam starts to frown at me, probably because I suddenly look like I want to run. Almost in a panic, I reach over and silence my phone just as a text comes in, also from Alex. I glance at the screen before pulling it under the table to read it.

Where are you?

I also now realize that it’s been an hour since I walked into Café Au Lait and snuck out the back door. Andres must’ve caught on that I’m no longer there. I decide it’s best to respond to Alex quickly.

Out.

I power down my phone and set it back on the table. I should be ecstatic to hear from Alex. To know he’s alive, but I’m more upset that it took me skirting Andres for him to reach out to me. I want badly to yell at Alex right now, but I shove those feelings aside and bring myself back to the present and Sam.

Sam’s watching me intently in between sips of his margarita. “Everything okay?” he asks, cracking a tortilla chip in half and dipping it into some salsa.

“Yes.” I smile nervously at him.

He doesn’t believe me, but he doesn’t say anything.

“What?” I ask shyly.

“I’m glad you came to dinner with me.”

“Me too.” It’s a half lie. I’m enjoying dinner, but undeniably, I miss Alex. I swallow hard and shift uncomfortably in my chair, tucking my hair behind my ear. I try to push the guilt aside by reminding myself over and over: it’s just dinner.

“So,” he says, perking up. “Tell me why you moved here from Illinois.” He shoves the small bowl of salsa and basket of chips closer to me.

“Came looking for my dad,” I say after dipping a chip in salsa.

“Did you find him?”

I nod, stuffing the chip in my mouth. “I did. However, it didn’t go as well as I hoped.” Technically, it didn’t go at all. He said hi, then bye, and I was gone. I waver between hurt and angry when I think about my father.

He sets his margarita on the table and leans forward, attentive. “What happened?”

I think about it for a moment, wondering if I should share it with him. If it would matter. Finally, I decide I don’t really mind. It is what it is. “Honestly, he blew me off. He bailed on my mom when she found out she was pregnant. I shouldn’t have been surprised that I’d be less than welcome now, being an adult, but I didn’t expect outright denial. He literally told me to go away and he shut the door.” I’m more confident telling Sam this story. Maybe it’s the margaritas, or maybe I’ve suddenly come to terms with the fact that I’m alone in this world.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, placing his hand on mine.

I pull my hand away, cringing. “Sorry I’m so depressing.”

“You’re not depressing, Emilia. Your dad’s an asshole,” he says point blank. “Any father would be blessed to have you as a daughter.”

I feel a blush creeping up my face. It’s a sweet thing to say. Whether it’s true or not, I don’t know. “So, now, I’m just working to save up some money until I figure out what I’m going to do.”

“Will you stay in Phoenix?”

“I’m not sure. I never envisioned staying here without my dad.”

Sam nods and rubs his chin. “What about your mom?”

“Even more depressing than my dad,” I say quietly, feeling emotional just thinking about it. My mom would have loved a restaurant like this.

“Jesus, Em.” He shakes his head slowly.

“We can save that story for another time.” I offer a tight smile. “Tell me about you.” Please, because I don’t want to talk about me anymore.

“You’re looking at it.” He smiles, sitting back in his chair. “Work has pretty much consumed my life for the last five years. I graduated from college and took a job and have been working ever since. Just spent my time climbing the ranks and it left me little time for much else.”

“What do you do for the government?”

“A little of this, a little of that. They keep me busy.” Why is he evading my question? Maybe he’s embarrassed of his job.

I sip on my delicious margarita. I’ll have to see if Rosa can make something like this sometime.

“So, you don’t have a girlfriend?” Yeah, that boldness was definitely the margarita.

He turns his head and chokes out a laugh. “Ah, no, Emilia. If I had a girlfriend, I wouldn’t be at dinner with you.”

Oh, right. “I like that answer.” I laugh and dip a chip in some salsa. His eyes lock on mine for a brief moment before I drop mine and look at my margarita.

“I like you, Emilia. I’d love to get to know you better.”

Before I have time to respond, our server shows up and delivers small plates of tacos, enchiladas, tamales, rolled tacos, and another round of margaritas. In between bites of tacos and tamales, Sam and I enjoy getting to know each other. Surprisingly, we have a lot in common. By the end of dinner, our stomachs are full and we’ve made plans to take a desert hike once it begins to cool down for the fall.

Although my stomach turns when I think about Alex as I make plans with Sam.

“I bet you’ve never been on a date where a girl has eaten this much,” I joke with him as I push myself away from the table. “I’m sold on Mexican food.”

He laughs heartily. “I’m just glad you enjoyed dinner.”

“I did. I’ll definitely be coming back here.”

“Let me know if you do. I’ll call and let them know you’re on your way.”

I scrunch my eyebrows together, confused by his comment.

He explains, “My aunt and uncle own this restaurant. And another out in the East Valley. My uncle was born and raised here in Phoenix, but has family in Mexico. He spent a lot of time there growing up. All of these decorations were imported from Mexico.” He waves his hand around the room that is decorated in Mexican style décor, including mirrors, wrought-iron chandeliers, and paintings.

My eyebrows shoot up. “Your family owns this place?” I’m seriously impressed. My body warms as the tequila from the margaritas I’ve been drinking finally settles in.

“They do. I used to work here growing up. I bussed tables all through high school.” He says it with pride, which makes me like him even more. The guy respects hard work. That’s a great quality.

“Well, please tell them that, for someone who’s never had Mexican food aside from Taco Bell, I’m pretty sure theirs is the best.”

“I’ll pass that message along. With Taco Bell as their competitor,” he teases, “I’m sure they’ll be glad to know they’ve ranked first on your list.” He gets up and pulls out my chair, then reaches out to help me stand, but never releases my hand. Instead, he repositions it as we walk toward the exit.

He waves goodbye to some of the staff and holds the door for me again as we step outside. The wind has picked up, and lightning is shooting across the sky.

“Storm’s rolling in,” he says. “We haven’t had a good one in a few weeks. I love the summer monsoons.”

“Then I’m going to get going. I have a few blocks to walk and want to beat the rain.”

He looks at me like I’m ridiculous. “You’re not walking.”

“It’s not that far. I’m just a few blocks that way.” I point in the general direction of the tall office buildings.

He shakes his head, adamant. “I’m driving you home, Em. Get your ass in the car.” He pushes the button on his key fob and the headlights flash on a black Mercedes in the next row over.

“I’ll be fine,” I insist. “I’ll text you when I get home.”

“Get in the car, Emilia.” He all but drags me to his car by my elbow as I concede. I’m glad he insisted on driving me as large raindrops begin to bounce off the windshield not more than a minute later. He opens the front door, and I slide into the warm leather seats; then he gets in on his side. A flash of panic spreads through me as I wonder if Andres will be waiting for me.

He pushes a button on his dash and the car purrs to life. “Where to?”

“Um, right by Café Au Lait. I’m just a couple blocks down from there.” I power up my phone while Sam weaves through the downtown streets, and we get closer to Café Au Lait. My phone begins to chime with text messages, but I shove it down into my purse. “That brown brick building on the corner. Just stop here, I’ll walk across the street.”

“That’s where you live?” Sam’s voice is filled with surprise.

“Well, my roommate owns the place. I just have a room.” I hate saying “roommate,” but at this point, I don’t know what we are.

He shoots a concerned glance at me. “Let me park and I’ll walk you up. I don’t want you walking alone.”

I almost groan. I don’t need another man thinking I can’t take care of myself. It’s Phoenix, not Detroit. “I’ll be fine,” I blurt out. “But thank you for dinner. I really had a lot of fun.”

He grips the steering wheel and stares at the building before turning to me. “So did I.” Then he leans over and presses a gentle kiss to my cheek. Tiny butterflies fly around in my belly. “Goodnight, Emilia.”

“Night, Sam.” A smile tugs at my lips as I run my fingers over the spot on my cheek where Sam kissed me. I can’t deny an attraction to him. He’s a lot like Alex, only different. Where Alex is dangerous, Sam is professional. Both are remarkably attractive.

I jog through the lobby and take the elevator to the top floor. Exiting, I scan the area for any sign of Andres. All clear. Inside, lights from the kitchen illuminate the hallway, and I exhale, my heart rate returning to normal. I did it. I made it back without suspicion. But in the living room, I stop suddenly when I see a dark figure on the couch.

It’s Andres, his face contorted in anger. Standing, he pulls his cell from his jacket and presses a button. I can see the veins in his forehead pulsing. This is not good.

“She’s here.” That’s all that’s said before he deposits the phone back into the pocket of his jacket. I move to pass him, but he steps into my way, tall and bulky.

“Excuse me,” I say, trying to move around him again.

This time, he steps aside, but not before grabbing me by the arm. “What you did tonight will never happen again. Do you understand me?” His grip is firm.

A pained cry falls from my lips. Yanking my arm out of his grasp, I narrow my eyes at him and turn away, walking down the hall to Alex’s room.

“Answer me, Emilia.” His voice is low and raspy and scares me.

I don’t want to answer him. He’s Alex’s dog. I don’t deserve to be treated this way, and he doesn’t deserve my answer. Because my life is none of his damn business. It’s my life. I appreciate Alex’s attentiveness to my safety and his willingness to protect me, but I will not be bullied by a bodyguard.

Even though I spent the evening with Sam, I can only think about Alex. I retreat to the only room in this house that I feel safe. Even when he’s gone, I feel Alex here. Kicking off my shoes, I pull my dress off over my head. There’s a white, ribbed tank-style undershirt of Alex’s lying folded on the floor, and I unfasten my bra, tossing it to the ground before pulling on the shirt. Pulling back the covers on Alex’s bed, I slide into the middle and place pillows all around me. I’m cocooned in his scent, but there’s nothing that’ll replace the feel of his arms wrapped tightly around me. I miss him.