Chapter 16“Good morning, Chachi.”
Ruth rolled over and stretched—luxuriously. The sheet fell away, revealing her small breasts. “Good morning,” she said, looking up into Samuel’s smiling face. She pushed up onto her elbows. “What is that amazing smell?”
“Breakfast. Courtesy of the Rock Hotel. We have jugo, huevos, tomates, fresas, y torrijas, and this.” He held up a strawberry and fed it to her.
Ruth closed her eyes. “Delicious.”
Samuel pushed off the bed and walked to a cart sitting just inside the doorway. He wheeled it toward her. “The juice is freshly squeezed, the eggs scrambled, the tomatoes baked, and the toast”—he stopped and lifted one of the stainless steel plate covers—“is French à l’espagnole. You like?”
Ruth scrambled over the mussed sheets to the edge of the bed and snat
