“Wow,” he said, his eyes giving her a sweep from head to toe. “You look great.”
“Thanks.” She smiled and grabbed her purse next to the door. She stepped out onto the porch and locked the door behind her. “Let’s go.”
Bianca sank into the leather seat of Harry’s sports car. Sheslipped a pair of Ray-Bans from her bag and onto her face. He made the short drive from uptown to the Cuban restaurant in Mid-City.
The café was a converted pink house with unmistakable charm. Inside the dining room was a cheerful mix of mismatched chairs in pink, yellow, and turquoise. Caribbean music played from the speakers, and the scent of rich spices—cumin and garlic—drifted from the kitchen and throughout the space.
They started with mojitos and a plate of green plantains to share. She also ordered Caribbean chicken soup. It was her favorite. She wished she could package up an entire batch of it and take it to California with her. She would miss this place after she had relocated to the West Coast. Harry ordered his usual, the lechon amado—Cuban-style slow-roasted pork.
“This is definitely your spot,” he said, looking around with a half smile.
She couldn’t count the number of times she had dragged him here when they were together.
“I know I used to drive you crazy here in the past,” she said with a soft smile, “so thank you for bringing me back.”
He smiled. “I admit they have great food.”
“The best.” She relaxed in her seat and enjoyed the live music being played in the corner of the room.
They spent the evening catching up, laughing, reminiscing, and slipping back into that familiar rhythm that came so easy for them. The hours passed without either of them noticing. Every now and then she caught him watching her across the table.
A few mojitos later Harry drove her home.
He walked her to the door. “I had a great time tonight,” he said.
“Me too.” She gave him a gentle smile.
“If I’m ever in California—”
She finished the sentence, “Come see me,” she said, and kissed his cheek. “In fact Remi’s soft opening of her winery is taking place soon … in a couple of weeks—a tasting.”
“Is that an invitation?” Harry asked.
“Could be.” Bianca smiled. “Good night, Harry.”
“Good night, Bianca.”
She watched as he left her front porch—which was oncetheirfront porch—and made his way down the flight of stairs and hopped into his car.
She went inside, warmed up her leftover soup in the microwave.
Tomorrow would be the start of something new—something exciting. Her belongings would travel cross-country and meet her in California in a few days. She’d close on her new home in Bodega Bay in just two days, and everything in the universe would be just as it should be.
And she was ready for all of it.
Chapter Thirty-eight
Bianca
Bianca stood in the center of the living room, her furniture situated so that positive energy could flow through the room freely. She opened the sliding glass door to let in fresh air and allow the scent of the ocean to drift in from the outside. She stood in the doorway and watched as the water crashed against the cliffs.
She had closed on the house and received the keys to the place. Boxes were still lined along the wall, not yet unpacked. It would take her days to get settled in and she would take her time—do it at her own pace. Her furniture had arrived as scheduled, and the movers had unloaded everything from their truck and taken the time to assemble beds and other furniture.
Her car hadn’t arrived yet, so she’d taken a Lyft to Whole Foods to pick up a few essentials. She was craving grilled fish, so she grabbed a small portable grill and a bag of charcoal along with her groceries.
Now she stood in her kitchen and seasoned the salmon with butter, fresh garlic, and herbs—wrapped it in foil and placed it on the hot grill. She roasted asparagus, squash, and zucchini in the oven.
Music played softly on her Bluetooth speaker. When her phone rang she answered on the second ring.