Crash: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance Read Free

of the restaurant, near the kitchen. Katherine and her mother slipped into one side of the booth, and I was just about to do the same when my father placed his hand on my arm.
     
    “Excuse me, this isn’t the table I had reserved,” Dad said.
     
    The maître d’, sighed and said, “Sir, your party is not dressed in appropriate attire. For the sake of the other guests, this is the best I can do.”
     
    “It’s fine,” Katherine’s mother said.
     
    “No, it’s not, actually,” Dad said, his voice rising in decibel level. “I reserved a table by the fountain, and that’s exactly where we are going to sit.”
     
    “Sir, please don’t make a scene,” groaned the maître d’. “We don’t allow casual attire at this location, and I’m already sticking my neck out by allowing you to stay at all.”
     
    “Well, don’t do us any favors,” my father snapped. “Let’s go. We’re going to find a place where the staff is a little more accommodating.”
     
    “I hear the Circus Burger down the street takes walk-ins,” the maître d’ seethed, turning his nose up with contempt.
     
    I lunged toward the little toad, but dad grabbed my arm in a vice grip and began to drag me toward the door. Katherine and her mother blanched and then turned pink with embarrassment as they followed us from the restaurant.
     
    “Can you believe the nerve of that guy?” I muttered when we had reached the sidewalk.
     
    “Son, just calm down,” Dad said. “We’ll take our business elsewhere.”
     
    He handed the valet our parking ticket, and we waited for the car to be brought back around. I was furious, and I could see the maître d’ watching us from inside the restaurant as though he were making sure we left the premises.
     
    Once we were inside the car, Dad began making phone calls. Call after call came back the same. All the decent restaurants in town were booked.
     
    “Damn, now what?” Dad muttered.
     
    “I know a place,” Katherine said.
     
    Great. We’d probably end up in some uppity little coffee shop where the only thing I could get to eat would be a scone or a crumpet or some bullshit like that.
     
    “I’m game for anything at this point,” Dad shrugged.
     
    “Turn right at the light. It’s about three miles down on the left,” Katherine said.
     
    Dad followed her directions and we pulled up outside a non-descript building with a sign that read “El Capitan”. There was no valet, so Dad parked the car under a tree and we all got out and made our way to the front door.
     
    “Miss Katherine!” called a voice in a thick Latin accent. “So good to see you! You’ve brought guests!”
     
    A short, balding man with ruddy skin and a thick, black moustache held the door open with a broad smile.
     
    “Come in, come in!” he said warmly. “Welcome to El Capitan. For the lovely Miss Katherine and her party, the best seat in the house!”
     
    The man led us through what appeared to be a real dive of a Mexican restaurant. I could smell the bittersweet scent of charred meat and fajita vegetables mingling with the acrid stench of copious amounts of beer and tequila. How the fuck did The Duchess even know about a place like this?
     
    We were seated at a large, semi-circular booth by the back window, overlooking their spacious courtyard and patio, which was beautifully landscaped with elephant ears, palm trees, and an array of exotic looking flowers. In the center of the courtyard was a fountain much more grand than the one we were supposed to have been seated at back at the uppity little bistro where Dad had made reservations.
     
    Katherine and her mother slid into the booth first, leaving myself and my father to flank them on either side. Within moments of being seated, we were offered drinks, as well as a huge basket of freshly made chips and four individual bowls of fresh salsa.
     
    “Where’d you hear about this place, anyway?” I asked Katherine. Not that I really cared, but it had my