I swear, everyone in the joint stopped what they were doing just to listen to me.
It felt almost electric. Yes, drumming was my heart and soul, but in that moment, I could see why Asher loved to sing the really powerful songs where you had to put your everything into it. Because this right here felt good.
Centering my focus on a place deep inside me, I let the guitar’s melody pour through my hands and my diaphragm until the twang in my voice rose to a crescendo and my last note echoed into the silent parlor. I finished the last line and then...applause.
At all the whistling, clapping, and cheering, I blinked and smiled at my audience. But my attention landed on one pair of green eyes watching me from a corner booth with intense scrutiny.
Oh, shit.
Asher was here.
Frozen, I could only gape at him as he rose from the booth where he was sitting alone.
He stepped toward me, and my heart leapt into my stomach. Dios, he was coming over to talk to me.
What the hell was I supposed to do?
“Bien hecho, Elisa,” Tío Alonso said, patting me on the shoulder as he passed by.
His praise jolted me from my rigor mortis and I swung around to blink up at him. Then he motioned to my worktable and told me to get the cut sopapillas back to my second cousin Frida at the fryer.
I told my uncle I’d get right to it as I glanced toward Asher. He was still coming my way, so I picked up the sheet to flee. When he just kind of froze in his step as if not sure what to do, I whirled away and rushed back into the kitchen.
But as soon as I was behind the swinging door, I stole a glance out one of the round windows. He was still standing where he’d stopped in his tracks, watching the place where I’d disappeared. But as soon as he saw me peeking back out at him, a smile spread across his face and he waved.
Dios. That smile. That smug, I-know-you-see-me-and-remember-me smile did things to me.
If this man caught me in girl-mode again, I wasn’t sure if I could resist him...and I really needed to resist him. Lying to him and pretending to be a guy was bad enough. But actually falling into bed with him while I was still lying and pretending to be a guy at other times would be the ultimate deception.
Whatever happened, I could not ever run into him as a girl again. Not unless he knew the truth.
So I was able to avoid running into Asher at the restaurant. I dawdled long enough at the fryer that he was gone by the time my uncle called me back to the dining room for another song, and I dragged myself in front of the customers again.
But he knew where I worked now, so this could be bad.
I was going to have to do some serious damage control to keep him away from girl-me.
By the time I finished my shift, I’d forgotten that he’d text-bombed me right before I sang. So when I started to call him, I was surprised to see all his old messages awaiting me. They went a little something like:
1. Holy shit! I found her.
2. What’s the name of the girl who works at your family’s restaurant? The one with the purple streaks in her hair?
3. Never mind. I just learned it.
I frowned, trying to recall anyone calling me Remy, but then I remembered... Tío Alonso had called me Elisa. A few times.
4. Call me as soon as you get off work.
Blowing out a breath, I dialed him, not sure what to say but determined to throw him off the scent of…well, me.
Yeah, I couldn’t believe I was going to do that, either.
“Hey,” he answered, and I swear, the cheer and smile in his voice lit me up from the inside.
“Hey,” I murmured right back, still not sure what to tell him because I knew he was going to ask about her... I mean, me.
He was going to ask about me.