The waiter arrived and I watched his eyes lock onto Mia’s breasts for a second before he gained enough self-control to address her face.
“Do you mind if I order?” Mia asked as she looked at me. It was only half a question. “It’s just… I know what’s good here. There’s nothing that you don’t eat, is there?” I shook my head.
She ordered in fluent Spanish.
“I have ordered some wine for us too. It’s impossible not to drink with tapas,” she said.
I looked down at my notepad of questions. None of them seemed appropriate.
“Is this a regular of yours, then?” I asked, glancing around the café, wondering if they were used to seeing Mia like this.
“I come here sometimes. Not often, but a few times.”
“And… were you naked before?” I asked.
“Nude,” she said stiffly, “I prefer nude.” I nodded. I had read about Mia’s word preference during my research, but my mind wasn’t quite with me at the moment.
Mia’s eyes looked upwards thoughtfully. “I can’t remember. Maybe once, perhaps.” She shrugged. It was seemingly so commonplace to her that she genuinely couldn’t tell for sure. If I’d ever been nude in a café, I’d damn sure remember it.