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Fuck, he thought. Of course not. “Yeah! They’re awesome!”
“Which one do you recommend?”
His eyes scanned the list and he sighed, thank god. “The kway-so, like I said. Out of this world.”
“Good. I’m seeing a pattern here,” she teased him.
“Can’t help it,” he said, resting on his laurels. “I know what’s good.”
Julio returned with the chips and salsa and set it before them. “Do we need a moment to decide or are we ready to order?”
Bull took over. “The lady and I will share the vag-I-tas for two.”
Isabella coughed. “Oh, my.”
Julio just took it. “I’m sure you will enjoy that. Pollo o carne?”
Bull’s eyes darted back and forth from Isabella to Julio. He could tell from Julio’s inflection that it was a question, but there was no telling what that question was. What do people normally ask when you order something? If they want any fries? How do you say fries in Spanish? They didn’t need fries because they had chips and salsa. “No.”
Julio blinked again. He sighed. He’d just bring them mixed fajitas. “Si, senor. Right away.”
Bull caught him before he walked away. “One more thing, Hoo-lee-O. We’d like two slices of that tress du lesh after. My mama used to make that and it was always tasty.” He was confident about that one. After all, that’s how his mom said it.
Julio smiled. “Of course, sir.” And walked away. Under his breath, barely audible to Isabella, he said, “pinche gringo.”
Unable to hold it in, Isabella burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. The service here is phenomenal.”
She loved him so.
