The conversation is light, and before long, he has a beer in his hand he can't seem to wait to c***k open. He leans closer to whisper in the hostess's ear and she laughs.
She takes the cap off the beer, and then slides it to him as he pops his head back up and says his thanks.
I watch, still as a sphinx, as he takes a sip and then comes to his senses. I watch as he makes a few more remarks to the woman in front of him, and I follow her line of sight...just as she nods towards the seats around me.
Derek's eyes travel swiftly around, but almost instantly are drawn to my booth.
He mouths a word at the hostess, who nods again, and before I can utter a word of protest, he's sliding into the frayed, faux-leather seat across from me, his green eyes hooded and assessing.
"Derek Sanchez," I sa
