“You don’t need to say anything in particular. Eat. Enjoy your meal. I’d like to know more about you. Tell me, what’s your favorite activity outside of work?”
Realizing that he was guiding the conversation to an easier subject for her, Belinda relaxed. After sipping her wine, she answered, “I don’t have anything that I’m particularly fanatical about. I like lots of things from bike riding to reading. It depends on my mood and the day. What do you like to do other than work out?”
“My interests are varied like yours. Believe it or not, I went to the gym for the first time to work off the tummy I’d built up eating the bread I love to make,” he confessed, patting his flat abdomen.
“You bake bread?” He looked like the type that existed on chicken breasts and vegetables.
“I’m an expert kneader,” he assured her. “I discovered I enjoyed pushing myself physically. Searching for minuscule lines of code or tracing viruses back to the entry point is tedious to say the least. A little sweat helps burn off the tension from the day.”
“I can see that. How did you get involved with cybersecurity in the first place or is that too close to the ‘we can’t talk about work outside of work’ rule?” she teased.
“I think you’re safe,” Pedro answered with a smile in response to her light-hearted tone. “Believe it or not, I had a younger brother who loved to hack into systems for fun. He didn’t have a malicious intent but simply enjoyed the challenge of trying to best the systems that others had set up. I spent a lot of time getting him out of messes.”
“What would you do?”
“I’d fix the weak points he discovered to erase his tracks. I discovered that having a hacker search from the outside was a significantly more efficient method of checking for problems,” Pedro explained. “I also learned to listen to my intuition. I have a knack for scanning code and finding problems.”
The arrival of the server to remove their salad plates made Belinda sit up straight. Captivated by their open conversation, she had leaned in to listen carefully to his words. She’d never met someone as magnetic and interesting as Pedro. Having attended his conference lectures, Belinda knew he was a dynamic speaker in a large setting—one on one, he was mesmerizing.
She studied him secretly as the server captured his attention as he delivered the main courses. Pedro Morales was a handsome man—swarthy skin, deep brown eyes, shoulders a mile wide, and a powerful body that would put ninety-nine-point-nine percent of men to shame.
“Tell me if it’s good,” he requested, gesturing to the vat of melty cheese and lobster in front of her.
Dipping her fork through the golden-brown breadcrumbs on top, Belinda scooped up a bit of the steaming macaroni. As she lifted it to her mouth, his fingers wrapped around her wrist to stop her. Startled, she looked up at him in alarm.
“You’ll burn your mouth. Blow on it,” he ordered.
Automatically, she followed his directions, watching the steam swirl away with her breath. When it seemed safe, she placed it in her mouth. The scrumptious cheesy mixture was still very warm. It would have scorched her mouth if she hadn’t given it time to cool slightly. As she enjoyed the flavor, Belinda poked a few holes into the topping to allow the steam to escape.
Looking up, she discovered Pedro watching her. “They definitely serve things piping hot here. Thank you for the warning.”
“You’re welcome. Is the flavor worth the danger of molten cheese and seafood?” he asked.
“Very. It’s delicious. How’s your steak?”
“Perfect. Just as I expected, Knox and Sharon know where to celebrate a special occasion.”
“Are we celebrating?” she asked in surprise.
“Absolutely.”
Not sure what to say, Belinda steered the conversation to less personal topics. “You’ve lived all over the US and abroad. What has been your favorite city?”
With a knowing smile, he answered her question. Pedro maintained the light tone of their discussions. Full of intriguing stories and facts, he was a perfect dinner companion. Belinda didn’t know when she’d had a more entertaining meal.
“No more,” she said regretfully as she set down her fork. Belinda couldn’t eat another bite of the rich, cheesy dish.
“Looks like you have lunch for tomorrow,” he suggested.
“Or dinner. I usually work through lunch. I need to clone myself to get everything done.”
“That isn’t healthy,” Pedro told her with a frown.
“You don’t need to worry about me, Daddy,” she answered with a laugh.
Instantly, Pedro’s hand covered hers and securely gripped it without hurting her. When she looked up to meet his gaze, he stressed, “That title is not a joke. Please do not use it again until you mean it.”
He signaled the waiter. As the server approached, Pedro asked, “Would you like dessert this evening?”