“Lewis,” we say in unison.
Trish tugs at her Smurf hair. “Let’s talk after I check out the tweets.”
I feel relieved and energized. Having an inside ally will make it easier to track down the troll. If we catch the guy, my dad will be so proud. I hope.
When we enter Emergent’s lobby, Carlos and Elijah are engaged in their own intense convo as they wait for the elevator.
“What’s with all the dude drama today?” Trish jokes, and my responding laugh echoes across the lobby.
Both guys glance at us, then away. Elijah shoots a mocking smirk at Carlos. I hope those two aren’t arguing, too, because I think their bromance is adorable.
“Wanna catch the elevator with the—”
“No.” I bite the word out and Trish cocks an eyebrow.
“Trouble in geekville?”
“No trouble.” I cross the lobby quickly, ignoring Elijah holding the elevator door for us. Trish follows me up the stairs.
“Anyway, Carlos isn’t a geek,” I mutter and Trish snorts next to me.
“Sure he is. In his own way. We’re all geeks about something.”
We pause at the second floor landing to size each other up.
“Don’t forget to research my nonprofits.”
“I won’t. And don’t forget to check out Twitter.”
We head up the second flight of stairs and I’m seized by a crazy urge to ask Trish for advice. Maybe I have sunstroke from taking pictures under the blazing sun. Or maybe it’s because she’s offered to help me find the troll.
“Can I ask you something?” I hesitate at the doorway. At least I know she won’t sugarcoat her answer.
“Hit me.” She slurps noisily from her Big Gulp.
I blow out a breath. “Okay, so, I’m supposed to assist you guys, right? But Carlos blew me off. And I think you’d agree he’s been nicer to me than anyone, except maybe Elijah. But Carlos doesn’t want my help.”
I’ve just revealed my biggest vulnerability to the person who was my mortal enemy just last week. Qa’hr and Leia would be appalled, but I’m going to trust our new alliance.
Trish’s eyes turn flinty, assessing me like a hardcore detective. “What happened before he blew you off?”
“Nothing.” I glance at a framed photo of my dad on the wall rather than look her in the eye. “I mean, we were sort of…joking around…and then he said his internship was more important than the scholarship, that he needs to help his family—”
She puts up a hand. “The ‘joking around’ part. By that I assume you mean flirting?” Her eyes narrow to slits. “Be straight with me, princess. I can’t help you if you lie.”
“Uh…”
Her eyes pop wide open, so that she can roll them skyward. “Okay, so there was flirting, then he backed off. Got all serious about his job.” She shakes her head. “Your cluelessness is astounding, but anyway—if you want to help him, come up with something special. Don’t just offer to make copies or whatever, because that’s lame. And it’s easy for him to say no.”
“I…wow.” This isn’t the type of girl talk I’m used to with Lexi or my sister. Trish isn’t pulling any punches.
“Got any ideas to help his project?” She slurps her drink again, then quirks her lips when a passing employee shoots her a disapproving scowl. “Bad habit. I do it to annoy my dad.”
I do have an idea—a great one. I just need to act on it.
“Yeah.”
Her eyebrows arch. “Well then, Jedi, fire up your X-wing starfighter and go save your Boy Scout.”
And with that she turns on her heel and leaves me standing alone in the hallway, speechless.
Eighteen
“I’m hungry.” Lexi’s pink sunglasses embellished with fake rhinestones sparkle in the bright sunlight. It’s a gorgeous Saturday afternoon and we’ve just left our church carnival planning meeting. “You promised to feed me, so where are we going?”
“How about Mexican food?” I keep my voice light and casual.
“Sounds great.”
“It’s, um, kind of a far drive, but the food is supposed to be awesome.” I haven’t confessed my secret plan yet. I’m waiting until we get there.
“I’ve got nowhere to be. I was lucky to get a Saturday off work, and Mom’s let me off my leash, so whatever we do is good with me.” Lexi slides into the passenger seat and takes control of the music, starting one of her favorite playlists.
Carlos’s family restaurant is already plugged into my car’s GPS. My heart rate skips jerkily as I head toward the highway. This may be the dumbest idea ever, but I’m still doing it.
Today’s visit is undercover. The woman who answered the phone this morning said Carlos isn’t working today, so it’s a good day for recon. After spending the past two weeks helping all the interns except Carlos, I’m following Trish’s advice to do something specific, whether he wants it or not. Visiting Encantado will make my website redesign authentic instead of abstract.
And yeah, I also want to check it out because the restaurant is a big part of who Carlos is, since it’s entwined with his family.
Besides, these past couple of weeks I’ve visited museums with Ashley, helped Elijah with budgeting spreadsheets, taught Jason the rule of thirds in photography and how to take a decent iPhone photo, and spent a couple of days with Trish visiting her nonprofits.
Carlos is the lone holdout.
Not that he’s ignoring me. He’s back to friendly bordering on flirty, and last week we had a foosball rematch on the roof, just the two of us taking a late afternoon break. I won fair and square, and when he slammed my hand for a congratulatory high-five, he held onto it, lacing his fingers through mine. He reeled me in with his deadly Hershey’s eyes and I was simultaneously thrilled and terrified he was about to kiss me.
So I pulled away, because I couldn’t be responsible for him being disqualified for the scholarship. But the rest of the day, I imagined all sorts of ways we could break rule number eight.
“How’s everything with your brother?” I ask as we merge onto the highway. Time to stop daydreaming about Carlos and focus on my friend. Lexi clammed up via text earlier this week when I probed for details.
“He’s making progress, I guess. He’s seeing a counselor and going to those recovery meetings. My parents made me go to one.” She shudders and a sympathetic wave of sympathy slides through me.
Lexi stops the current song mid-screech. “Everyone spilled their guts and told crazy stories. Some people cried, but they laughed at stuff, too. Stuff I didn’t think was funny, but…I don’t know… Mom says the meetings work and he’s going to them every day, so I guess that’s good.”
We drive without speaking for a while. I’m grateful when Lexi restarts the loud music to fill the silence. Scott was always Mr. Responsible—the designated driver at parties, the guy you knew would do the right thing. It’s unsettling to imagine him on the other side of the coin.
“It used to bug me, how my brother was always the perfect one and I couldn’t live up to his example.” Lexi twists the hem of her shirt. “But now…I hate seeing my parents treat him like he’s a huge failure.”
“Maybe it’s because they’re scared to see their perfect son not so perfect anymore.” I glance at her. “He’s not a failure, Lex. He’s still brilliant and driven. I bet a year from now he’ll be a pain in your butt again, back at college and earning straight As.”
“You really think so?”
“Of course. And we both know I’m never wrong.”
Lexi laughs, and I relax, as much as I can considering where we’re headed.
…
The restaurant is tucked away on a side street off of Federal Boulevard, a main thoroughfare on the west side of Denver. It looks like one of those restaurants that used to be something else, like an old IHOP, but has been repurposed. The sign on the roof spells out Encantado in bright turquoise swirling cursive.
The small parking lot is full, which I assume is a good s
ign, so we park a few blocks away on a neighborhood street.
Lexi hesitates on the sidewalk. “This isn’t exactly our usual scene.”
“Don’t be a snob, Lex. Come on.”
She falls into step next to me as we walk past tiny brick houses, many of them overflowing with toys and bikes in the yards, bordered by flower and vegetable gardens. Some of the houses are better tended than others. My hands itch to take photos.
The scent of delicious food wafts over us as we approach the restaurant, drawing us in like we’re captives to a magical hunger spell.
“Sooo hungry. Must eat.” Lexi clutches her stomach and I pretend to push her toward the restaurant door.
Once we’re inside, the smells are even more mouth-watering. A friendly cacophony of laughter and conversation washes over us as we approach the hostess stand, where several people wait in line ahead of us.
A group of men perch on barstools, watching a soccer game on TV. Fabric-covered booths line the walls of the restaurant, and fully occupied tables fill the space between the booths and the bar. A shelf mounted over the hostess desk displays a small Madonna statue, postcards of famous Mexican landmarks, a framed one-dollar bill, and photos of the Rubio family. I spot a young Carlos in one of them. He’s maybe nine or ten, but I recognize the dimpled grin.
Standing in this place where Carlos spends so much time is like being close to him by proxy. I wonder what number “stalking your family restaurant” is on Carlos’s napkin fraternization list.
“Welcome, amigas.” A pretty middle-aged woman who I suspect is Carlos’s mom greets us with a wide smile. “Table for two?”
I nod, because I’ve lost my voice. Lexi squints suspiciously like she can tell something is up. We follow Mrs. Rubio as she snakes between tables and end up at a booth in the far corner. I relax slightly. It’s safer to spy from a corner booth than a table where everyone can watch us. We slide onto the padded seats and she hands us menus.
“Water? Soda?”
“Diet Coke,” we say simultaneously, and Carlos’s mom smiles warmly.
“Coming right up, girls. Your waiter will be right over.”
I blow out a breath and relax against the booth.
Lexi points a finger at me. “Okay, girl. Spill.”
“What?” I try to sound innocent but fail miserably.
“Come on, Laurel. I know you better than I know myself. Why are we here?” She stabs her finger on the table. “This restaurant.”
From my seat, I can glimpse the kitchen. Dark pants and shoes shuffle like a choreographed dance as bodies hustle back and forth. The sounds of clanging pans and laughter, mixed in with rapid-fire Spanish conversations, rise and fall like stadium cheers. I open my mouth to tell Lexi the truth, but our waiter arrives, carrying a basket of tortilla chips and a small bowl of salsa.
“Welcome to…Laurel? What are you doing here?”
Everything happens in slow motion, the way Carlos freezes and slowly unfreezes, setting the chips and salsa on the table. He wears black pants and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a black half apron tied around his waist. His dark hair is slightly disheveled, but the dimples are definitely in working order and on full display.
“I…uh…” I’ve got nothing. Zero. Nada. Zilch. I dart a glance at Lexi, whose eyes are wide with appreciation as she takes him in. She slants me a sly look that says way too much.
“I guess I should be flattered,” Carlos says, his eyes full of mischief. “It’s been a while since I’ve been stalked.”
Lexi collapses into giggles and I grasp for a witty response.
“Uh, we’re not…I’m not…stalking you.” Omigod. Why didn’t I have a contingency plan in case he was working today?
He cocks a disbelieving eyebrow. “So you just had a craving for Mexican food and ended up here?”
“Yes.” Lexi comes to my rescue. “You guys have great reviews on Yelp. And we were in the neighborhood.”
“She’s right.” I nod vigorously, hoping he’ll buy it.
He bestows his flirty smirk on Lexi, then turns back to me. “Whatever you say, Special K.”
“Special K?” Lexi asks.
“It’s a dumb nickname from work.” I grip my straw like it can morph into a lightsaber and blast my way out of here.
“I thought you liked the nickname.” Carlos crosses his arms over his chest.
My cheeks burn. Of course I do, because he came up with it.
“Maybe I need to revise number five.” The Hershey’s eyes are fixed on me, but now they’re Special Dark instead of milk chocolate. “I can come up with a better nickname.”
I stare at the basket of chips, unable to absorb the heat blazing out of his eyes.
Lexi clears her throat. “We’re on a photography field trip,” she says in a valiant attempt to save me, “not stalking you.”
I want to kiss her. Maybe kick her. Not sure which.
Carlos looks doubtful. “Field trip?”
She nods, tossing her hair. I guess I can’t blame her for going into automatic flirt mode. He’s impossible to resist.
“Yeah, it’s this thing Laurel does with her camera. She drags me all over town to take photos for this contest she’s entering. And today we ended up here because of a church she wants to check out.”
That’s a half-truth. I told her about the church as we drove here, and I did want to photograph it, after the restaurant.
Carlos’s sardonic gaze slides back to me, taking in my side of the booth. “Looks like you forgot your camera.”
Crud. I swallow as a slow burn works its way up my face. I can’t believe I left my camera in the car.
“You dork,” Lexi says.
If God were listening to my prayers right now, he’d zap me straight up to heaven and spare me any further mortification, but I guess he’s got bigger problems. Or maybe he’s getting a laugh out of this, too.
A young dark-haired woman who looks to be in her early twenties emerges from the kitchen balancing plates of steaming food. It’s Rose, his sister. I recognize her from Facebook.
She leans into Carlos and says, “Stop flirting, hermanito, and get to work.” Then she winks at us and hurries off.
Carlos shoots a glare at her retreating back, then pulls an order pad and pen from his apron.
“Do you know what you want?”
You, I think, my blush so hot I want to dump ice water on my face. I glance at Lexi, who’s clearly read my mind, judging by her Cheshire grin.
“Not yet.” My voice cracks. Way to go, princess. Qa’hr would kick your butt, and so would Leia.
“Yeah, maybe give us a few minutes,” Lexi says. “I’m Lexi, by the way. Laurel’s best friend.”
“Oh, sorry. I’m Carlos. Laurel and I work together. Not here, obviously, but at—”
“Her dad’s company,” Lexi finishes. “I’ve heard all about the interns.”
I kick her under the table.
“All about us, huh?” Carlos smirks, then shoves the pad and pen back in his apron pocket. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your order, ladies.” And then he’s gone, leaving me holding my breath until I’m sure he’s out of earshot.
“Oh. My. God.” Lexi leans over the table, her eyes dancing with laughter. “He’s freaking adorable. Why didn’t you tell me—”
She stops talking when an older man appears at our table with our sodas. We thank him, and as soon as he’s gone, Lexi opens her mouth to continue ranting.
“Shh!” I put my finger to my lips. My eyes dart around the room, but Carlos is on the far side of the restaurant now, clearing empty plates and glasses from a table.
Lexi leans back against the booth. “Tell me what’s going on, Laurel. Now.”
I give her the CliffsNotes version, including Trish’s advice to do something proactive rather than wait around for him to give me a boring task.
“Wow,” Lexi says when I finish. “Your job is way more interesting than mine, that’s for sure.” She
grins and grabs a handful of chips. “You need to tell him why you’re here.”
I nod, twirling my straw around my glass. “I know. And I will…just not right this minute.”
Lexi snorts. “And you totally need to explore this ‘friendly almost flirty’ thing and see where it goes. Maybe take some close-up shots of him. For the website.” She does air quotes around “website,” making me cringe.
“Stop. Please.”
“Dude, you get to spend all summer with that guy. I don’t want to hear any more whining from you.”
I let out a long sigh. “I know. Maybe we should go,” I whisper urgently as my earlier courage evaporates. “We can sneak out of here before he—”
Carlos chooses this exact moment to reappear at the table. His sister whooshes by again, giving him a knowing eyebrow waggle. He narrows his eyes at her and mutters something in Spanish I don’t understand, but whatever it is, it makes her laugh. He turns back to us and taps his pen on the order pad.
“So do you want food? Or is your stalking mission accomplished?”
“I’m starving,” Lexi says. “I’ll have the relleno and enchilada plate.”
He scribbles on his notepad then pivots to me. “And for the Jedi warrior?” His smile levels up his dimple game so much that I choke on my soda.
Is he making fun of me? Or is this…flirting?
I’ll have you, with that side of sass. I get the feeling he’s reading my mind, because his grin deepens and he does something melty with his eyes that makes me tingle in all the wrong places.
“Same for me,” I manage to say.
He clicks his pen, then rushes off, speaking curtly in Spanish to one of the busboys doing a lackluster job of clearing a table.
“Give me your keys.” Lexi holds out her hand.
“Why?”
“So I can get your camera and make you look legit. Otherwise he’ll know you’re a stalker.” She grins. “Like he hasn’t figured it out already.”
Sighing, I hand over my keys, then stare at my phone so I don’t have to look around the restaurant and accidentally make eye contact with Carlos. That lasts about ten seconds, because he’s back at the table, picking up our glasses for refills.
“So you really had nothing better to do on a Saturday than show up on my side of town?”
Spies, Lies, and Allies Page 21