Meeting Trouble (New Adult Rock Star Romance) by Emme Rollins Page A
Authors: Emme Rollins
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Kia’s drink holder.
“So where are we now?” Rob got out, watching me feed the parking meter.
“I hope you like Thai food,” I said, as he took my hand, swinging it as we walked around the side of the building.
“I love Thai food!”
“This is the best Thai food you’ll ever have, anywhere.” I boasted, opening the door of Bangkok Café for him. The smells instantly made me salivate, although I could have sworn a moment before I wasn’t hungry. It was sweet, sour and spice, mixed with an undertone of hot oil.
“That’s a very bold claim, Ms. Taylor.” Rob glanced around, seeing how small it was—it held maybe thirty people, tops—and took of his sunglasses, tucking them into his jacket pocket.
“Come on, it’s seat yourself.” I nodded at the sign, leading him toward one of the intricately carved wooden booths.
That was my second favorite part of this place—after the food. The booths were wide and roomy and had three sides and a wooden, slatted canopy top, You stepped up to get into one so you felt like you were entering your own little world, even though you could see through to the booths in front and behind. There were six of them against one wall, and tables and chairs on the other side.
“This is cool.” Rob looked around at the Thai decorations, the framed print from the Detroit Metro Times giving the restaurant “Best Thai Restaurant of the Year” four years running. “But the best Thai food I’ve ever eaten? You do realize I’ve eaten Thai food in Thailand?”
“I’ll s tand by it, a hundred percent,” I said firmly as the waitress came over to our booth. They were all Asian and barely spoke English but most of them were very sweet and tried very hard. I usually just ended up pointing to the number on the menu, if I went in to eat, but most of the time I just got take-out.
The girl who brought our waters and our menus was one of the best English-speakers and she smiled at us and asked if we needed a minute. Rob told her we did, picking up the one-page menu and looking it over with skeptical eyes. I sipped my water because I already knew exactly what I was going to order, looking around, wondering if any of these customers would stampede us on the way out.
I hoped not.
“So what’s good?” He put the menu on the table, taking a sip of water.
“I get the pad thai,” I said. “And you have to get the hot and sour soup. It’s my all-time favorite food.”
“Even better than stuffed French toast?”
“Yep.”
“That’s saying something.”
“You didn’t even taste the French toast.”
“I was too busy writing autographs.”
“T ouché.”
“Are you ready to order?” Our waitress appeared, a tiny young woman, probably not quite five-foot, notepad in hand. They all wore an oriental smock and had their hair pulled back and adorned with chopsticks. I always watched them, amazed how easily they weaved in and out of tables in the small space with trays balanced perfectly.
I ordered my usual—hot and sour soup and a fresh roll to start and pad thai for my entrée.
“I’ll have what she’s having,” Rob said.
“Make it two?” the waitress asked, still writing.
“Yep, make it two.” He gave her a wink and she blushed, smiling back at him. Not that I blamed her. A wink from Rob Burns did something to the female psyche. He got under your skin and he didn’t even have to try.
“Flirt,” I teased when she was gone.
“I’ve only got eyes for you, sweetheart.” His hand brushed mine, twining our fingers together . I noticed, for the first time, that he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. There wasn’t even a tan line where it had been.
“Why?” I asked softly, looking at the calluses on his fingers from years of playing guitar.
“Why what?”
“Why me?” I glanced up, meeting his gaze. His eyes were soft and so was his smile. “Why not Katie? Or any of the other girls who wanted you last night? Was it because you felt bad? About this?”
It
“So where are we now?” Rob got out, watching me feed the parking meter.
“I hope you like Thai food,” I said, as he took my hand, swinging it as we walked around the side of the building.
“I love Thai food!”
“This is the best Thai food you’ll ever have, anywhere.” I boasted, opening the door of Bangkok Café for him. The smells instantly made me salivate, although I could have sworn a moment before I wasn’t hungry. It was sweet, sour and spice, mixed with an undertone of hot oil.
“That’s a very bold claim, Ms. Taylor.” Rob glanced around, seeing how small it was—it held maybe thirty people, tops—and took of his sunglasses, tucking them into his jacket pocket.
“Come on, it’s seat yourself.” I nodded at the sign, leading him toward one of the intricately carved wooden booths.
That was my second favorite part of this place—after the food. The booths were wide and roomy and had three sides and a wooden, slatted canopy top, You stepped up to get into one so you felt like you were entering your own little world, even though you could see through to the booths in front and behind. There were six of them against one wall, and tables and chairs on the other side.
“This is cool.” Rob looked around at the Thai decorations, the framed print from the Detroit Metro Times giving the restaurant “Best Thai Restaurant of the Year” four years running. “But the best Thai food I’ve ever eaten? You do realize I’ve eaten Thai food in Thailand?”
“I’ll s tand by it, a hundred percent,” I said firmly as the waitress came over to our booth. They were all Asian and barely spoke English but most of them were very sweet and tried very hard. I usually just ended up pointing to the number on the menu, if I went in to eat, but most of the time I just got take-out.
The girl who brought our waters and our menus was one of the best English-speakers and she smiled at us and asked if we needed a minute. Rob told her we did, picking up the one-page menu and looking it over with skeptical eyes. I sipped my water because I already knew exactly what I was going to order, looking around, wondering if any of these customers would stampede us on the way out.
I hoped not.
“So what’s good?” He put the menu on the table, taking a sip of water.
“I get the pad thai,” I said. “And you have to get the hot and sour soup. It’s my all-time favorite food.”
“Even better than stuffed French toast?”
“Yep.”
“That’s saying something.”
“You didn’t even taste the French toast.”
“I was too busy writing autographs.”
“T ouché.”
“Are you ready to order?” Our waitress appeared, a tiny young woman, probably not quite five-foot, notepad in hand. They all wore an oriental smock and had their hair pulled back and adorned with chopsticks. I always watched them, amazed how easily they weaved in and out of tables in the small space with trays balanced perfectly.
I ordered my usual—hot and sour soup and a fresh roll to start and pad thai for my entrée.
“I’ll have what she’s having,” Rob said.
“Make it two?” the waitress asked, still writing.
“Yep, make it two.” He gave her a wink and she blushed, smiling back at him. Not that I blamed her. A wink from Rob Burns did something to the female psyche. He got under your skin and he didn’t even have to try.
“Flirt,” I teased when she was gone.
“I’ve only got eyes for you, sweetheart.” His hand brushed mine, twining our fingers together . I noticed, for the first time, that he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. There wasn’t even a tan line where it had been.
“Why?” I asked softly, looking at the calluses on his fingers from years of playing guitar.
“Why what?”
“Why me?” I glanced up, meeting his gaze. His eyes were soft and so was his smile. “Why not Katie? Or any of the other girls who wanted you last night? Was it because you felt bad? About this?”
It
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