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coral and white petunias at the edge of the curb, and quickly crossed the space between us. He was flashing a thousand-watt smile, playing to the crowd, radiating a kind of rock star cockiness. A group of diners at a nearby table turned to stare at him, and he gave them a jaunty wave, basking in the attention.
    “
Mi muchacha querida!
” he cried dramatically when he reached our table, bending to kiss Ali’s hand. “It’s been so long, I’ve missed you, I’m desolated without you.” He pulled over the extra chair in one swift motion and planted himself on it, his eyes never leaving her face. “I was getting ready to open my studio, and then I saw you sitting here as beautiful as a painting. I couldn’t believe my
fortuna
, my luck, and I couldn’t wait
un momento mas
to tell you how you make my heart race.”
    Nothing subtle about Chico. He was laying on the compliments so thick, he could have been using a trowel. I winced, wondering if any woman in her right mind would really fall for his spiel.
    Up close, I could see that he was a little older than I’d originally thought, with a few lines around his eyes and a certain softness blurring what was probably once a finely chiseled chin line. I noticed he was wearing a flashy ring with an insignia on it, but no wedding ring. I assumed that was deliberate; appearing single would be good for business.
    “How are you doing, Chico?” Ali said evenly. Two little pinpricks of color appeared on her cheeks, the only sign that she was feeling a bit rattled by his attention. He tried to hold her hand, but she pulled it away and wrapped her fingers around her wineglass.
    “How am I doing?” he repeated soulfully. “I’m lonely without you, my lovely Ali,” he said. He placed his hand over his heart, and his dark eyes flickered to me, shooting me a look that I couldn’t begin to decipher. “Who is your bee-oo-tiful
amiga
? Please to introduce us?”
    Ali hesitated for a moment, and I saw a shadow of indecision in her eyes. “Chico, this is my sister, Taylor Blake, from Chicago. Taylor, this is Chico Hernandez.” She sent him her frostiest stare.
    Chico immediately laser-locked me with his sultry gaze. “Taylor, a lovely name for a lovely woman.” He leaned across the table and touched me gently under the chin. “I can see very much the family resemblance.” I drew back slightly in my chair, shrinking from his touch. A heavy wave of cologne hit me, and I wrinkled my nose, drawing back even farther. He wasn’t easily dissuaded and gave a throaty chuckle. “You will be staying long in our city, I am hoping?”
    “I’m really not sure,” I said vaguely.
    “If you need someone to show you the city, I am here for you.” He licked his lips, staring at me as if I were a Big Mac and he were a hungry hound. “I can show you things you’ve never seen before,” he said suggestively. I glanced up to see Ali giving me a delicate eye roll over the rim of her wineglass. I assume this was Chico’s standard line when talking to women.
    “I’m afraid I don’t have much time for sightseeing,” I said curtly. I decided it was better to be blunt with the man. It was obvious he wouldn’t take a hint; only a verbal two-by-four would put a dent in his gigantic ego.
    Chico grinned, reaching for my hand and running his thumb over my palm before I yanked my hand away. “Well, you never know, you may change your mind. And I’ll be here, waiting for you.” He gave me another soulful look, like a B-list actor in a cheesy Spanish soap, and I bit my lip to keep from laughing.
    An awkward silence fell between us, and I noticed a slow flush creeping down Ali’s neck. Chico’s unwavering gaze and blatant come-on were making both of us uncomfortable. I kept my eyes focused on my quickly cooling slice of pizza, hoping he would get the hint and say
adios
.
    “Chico!” a flashy redhead yelled from across the street. I recognized her from the Dream Club meeting. Gina Santiago. Her