That would get his attention and should earn Dutch some brownie points.
Raising an eyebrow, her uncle shot her a dubious look that was also cautionary, warning her not to lie.
“Honestly,” she said. “He’s a good person, a gentleman, and wants to meet you. If you scare him off, I promise the next guy you meet will be on my wedding day.”
Uncle Emilio laughed. “All right, my dear. I’ll meet your new beau. On one condition.” He raised a finger for emphasis.
“What’s that?”
He smiled at her, the look tender and kind. “If I disapprove of this young man, you will stay away from him. Heed what I say as any daughter would.”
Isabel sat back in her chair. “I’m entitled to date whomever I please. I respect your opinion, but I’ll follow my own judgment.” Or when it came to men, Brenda’s. Her bestie had steered her toward Dutch and she’d never been happier with a match.
She wished her uncle was still dating Lori Carpenter. Although Lori had been young, about the same age as Isabel, when Uncle Emilio had been with her, his attitude toward everything had been more laissez-faire, less regulated. Lori had been the best distraction for him.
To this day, Isabel had no idea why they’d broken up a year ago.
He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Would you show your father such disrespect? Talk to him like this, if he were the one sitting here?”
“Yes. Because I’m twenty-eight. I’m not a child.” She thought of her cousin out in New York, Uncle Emilio’s son, and her indignation ballooned. “Miguel is two years older than me and you’d never tell him whom he should and shouldn’t marry, much less date.”
“You think you are your own person, free to do as you please.” His tone softened and sharpened at the same time, drawing her to lean in to catch his every word. “But you are part of a larger whole. This family.” He slapped the table, and Isabel flinched at the sound, straightening in her seat. “Miguel wanted to become a hotshot corporate attorney, but instead he picked up the mantle I passed to him and will carry on the Vargas legacy. It’s not what he wanted, but he’s thriving. Because he understands the importance of family. Of being part of a whole. The same way my brother and I understood the need for sacrifice. I wouldn’t tell Miguel who to date or not to sleep with because I don’t care. But when he gets serious enough about someone to introduce her to me, or chooses a wife, I will have a say. He’ll listen to me. He’ll show respect. Just as you will now. Do you understand?”
Stunned to silence, Isabel nodded.
“I’m only looking out for your best interest,” he said.
Chad’s words rang in her ears. I only want what’s best for you.
A lump formed in her throat at the similarity.
Her uncle took a deep breath, lightening his expression and his voice. “Your father would want me to. He was more than my brother. He was my mentor. My best friend. Losing him devastated me. When I buried him, I swore to raise you as he would’ve. I love you as my own. Don’t dishonor his memory by disregarding what I say.”
Always the expert at manipulating emotion to get what he wanted. Isabel wasn’t surprised by her uncle’s redirection. Expected it even. She’d spent fourteen years paying close attention, learning to do the very same thing herself when necessary.
She strategized while the third course was served. The waitress set down the plates in front of them and removed the stainless steel dome covers.
A delightful scent of lemon and herbs hit her.
“Veal medallions with brown butter and herbs de Provence,” the waitress said.
Isabel reeled back. “None for me, thank you.”
“What’s wrong?” Her uncle cut into the meat and ate a piece. “Give it a try. It’s delicious.”
“I may wear leather and eat meat, but I draw the line at calves kept in small cages.”
The waitress removed her plate and left.
Uncle Emilio chuckled. “If you object to eating baby animals, perhaps you should become a vegetarian. Do you think the broiler-sized chickens you buy are fully grown? Try eight weeks. Any idea the conditions they’re kept in? Filthy and cramped.” He took another bite. “Pigs are slaughtered at four months old. The same as calves for veal. Consider that the next time you’re enjoying a piece of bacon.”
Grimacing, Isabel tossed her napkin on the table. Maybe she would become a vegetarian.