The Hothead and The Ice Queen

Eighteen

Mrs. Lee was yelling in Cantonese across the dining room to a worker in the kitchen as I approached the hostess stand. Fortunately, no diners were disturbed because the dinner rush hadn't yet begun, and the only patrons were a couple older regulars that didn't seem to mind. Warren told me that Cantonese wasn't as popular as Mandarin in China, so it was rare to find other speakers. Maybe they spoke Cantonese too!

When Mrs. Lee turned her head and saw me, her face lit up in the most adorable way. But as she came around to hug me, I could tell she was looking for my dad, and I had to keep myself from dry-heaving.

She hugged me tightly. "Oh, Cassie! Welcome! No father today? You have order?"

I shrugged as she let me go. "Not today. I was hoping I could hang out and–"

"Ah, ah, say no more, say no more!" My brows furrowed as she giggled and grabbed my elbow, leading me to a table along the front windows. "You wait for Warren, yes? I heard the good news! Plus you wearing his jacket!"

I let out a nervous chuckle as I sat in the booth, facing the direction of the door. "Thanks."

"Oh, don't mention it! It fills me with joy you two have each other. Take you time and enjoy!"

As she waddled away, I wasn't sure if she was talking about my dinner or Warren. But I decided to shake it off and jump into the book I brought.

On Warren's dinner break at 6:30, our first official date would begin, and we would have dinner together for a half hour before he had to return to work. It wasn't ideal, but as long as we were together, I didn't care about the circumstances.

Besides, reading helped the time pass easily as the wonderful smells of Asian cuisine and sights of Asian décor faded away. The pages turned relentlessly, the story playing out in my mind's eye. Friendship blossomed into romance. Friends became enemies, and enemies became friends. It was a very complex tale, so many layers to peel back, and I loved every second of it.

My mental movie came to a screeching pause as the delicious, savory smell of my favorite Chinese food invaded my senses. I held my book to the side and glanced down at the steaming plate of chicken and broccoli, lo mien, and white rice in front of me. My brows furrowed as I glanced up at Warren, who was smiling smugly.

"You knew my order?"

Expertly using his chopsticks, he popped a piece of chicken in his mouth. "No, Mrs. Lee did."

Made sense. I marked my book and set it on the booth next to me, giving Warren all my attention. He grinned and flicked his finger like a lighter. A tiny flame danced on the end of his pointer finger as he hovered it over the long-stemmed candle's wick. While he snapped his lighter closed, the candle shined bright against the dark atmosphere, offering wonderful ambiance.

As we ate, the conversation flowed easily from one topic to the next. He made me laugh, I did the same for him. Somehow, we got on the topic of our funniest childhood memories.

While telling my story, I couldn't help but laugh at the memory, and Warren was laughing right along with me. "But seriously? What kid looks at his ice cream cone and says, 'Hey, this is good, but I wonder what it would like in that pale girl's hair!'"

"Clearly he was an evil little mastermind." Shaking his head, Warren laughed before eating a few bites of food.

"Evil is right. It took me an hour to finally wash the chocolate out of my hair. But even then, I had a brown patch on the top of my head."

"Okay, okay." He chuckled, his smile stretching from ear to ear. "I think I can top that."

I swept my arms out, giving him the floor. "Please do, by all means."