"Ten Days Wonder" - Three.
She buried her confusion in flan. Several meals worth. Nearly a day later and she was on the lunch portion. It was her madrina's cure-all and with good reason. Sugary, creamy, completely fattening. It was exactly the kind of things that the "Food Craze" section in her magazine said not to eat.
Of course, during late night kitchen raids, David frequently told her to ignore that section of the publication. "You're beautiful just the way you are. Here, have some chocolate sauce on that."
He wasn't answering his cell phone and she, idly, wondered if he was making strange trips of his own to get back at her mother for hers last month.
Since she had no David to talk to, she'd chosen the back booth of the diner to sulk in. And the flan.
Flan made far more sense than boys. Or men.
It didn't flirt with girls like Shannon.
It didn't need her to wear a cute pair of hip-hugging clam-diggers and accent with an orange tube top.
She made a mental note to tell David and Blair that their fashion editor
needed to have a glossary at the end of her dumb Fifty Craze-y Tips column.
"So...what's the third thing?"
The seat across from her was suddenly filled, all broad shoulders and sprawled legs. Shaggy blond hair. Striped shirt.
"What?" She stared at Rex, mystified, wondering how he'd managed to appear without making any noise...again.
"Yesterday. At Roxy's. You said there were three things you could teach me Spanish, salsa, and...?" He drummed his fingertips on the table, impatiently, like twenty-eight or so hours hadn't passed. "What's the third?"
She stared down at her dish of flan. Would it be completely out of line to throw the rest of it at him? She wasn't usually given to violent impulses. She wasn't usually given to impulses at all. "Are you insane?" she asked, genuinely curious.
"Am I insane?" he echoed, staring off somewhere into the distance. After a minute, he conceded, "Yeah. Si. Totally loco."
Rex wasn't quite sure how things had gone to Hell in a handbasket in such a short amount of time. RJ's loan, two nights ago, had been something worrying, but not unmanageable. Two nights ago, Adriana had been a possible mark, the just-in-case jackpot. Today, she was the lesser of two evils. On the sliding crime scale, charming a girl out of a couple million she wouldn't even miss was nothing compared to torching his mom's salon and collecting the insurance money. He was a lover, not an arsonist.
Or, at least, he had been. Yesterday, at this time, he'd been in Lindsey's arms. Today, he didn't even have that. He had nothing except a matchbook from Capricorn in his back pocket. RJ and Lindsey had played him. They'd left him with nothing.
Well, except for ten days. One little rich girl. And a third thing to learn.
"So, tell me," he repeated. "What else have you got for me, Adriana?"
She tilted her head, staring at him with those big, brown, barely legal eyes. He had no idea what she was seeing. Hopefully not the truth.
Whatever it was, it made her shake her head and sigh. And, then, she smiled, her cheeks dimpling. She handed him a spoon from the side of her dessert bowl. "Here...have some flan. You'll feel better."
As he took a bite of sweet, caramel-laced custard, and it melted on his tongue, he had to admit...she was right.
He felt better all ready.
He felt...focused.
He knew what he had to do.
Make her forget all about that moron River Carpenter...and keep remembering that all he wanted from her was cold, hard, cash.
He could consider it payment for services rendered. They were both going to be better off. She'd be wiser and he'd be richer.
"See...you're looking less loco all ready. My madrina's flan fixes everything," Adriana said, with a measure of pride.
"A flan for all seasons, huh?" he quipped, grinning.
"The flan also rises," she agreed, clapping a hand over her mouth to stifle the giggles. She'd had to read that at the convent school in San Juan. Oh, how she hated Hemingway. Flan, no doubt, would have improved his writing.
"No, no..." Rex, despite himself, was laughing, too. And...God forbid ...singing some off-key tune. "She lies and says she's in love with it...can't find a better flan..."
Adriana's magazine went sliding to the floor as she doubled over with mirth. Tears streamed down her cheeks as patrons turned to see who was making the terrible racket.
"I...oh...dios mio..." she gasped out.
Here was her third thing. She knew what she had to do.
Teach this man to open up. To open his heart.
"I think it's a foolproof flan," she murmured, fighting back the last of the amusement.
"Me, too." His eyes met hers. He didn't even bother trying to keep from chuckling. "A totally foolproof flan. Best I've ever had."