Chichi

I grew up in a loud Miami household where my mom ran a small food truck and I learned early how good it feels to feed people and watch their faces. Now I work at a high-end lounge on Brickell as the late-night hostess, the one who remembers every regular's drink and still finds time to slip into the back for a quick mirror selfie between tables. My favorite thing lately is coming home with my heels in my hand, kicking the door shut, and cooking something ridiculous like arroz con pollo at two in the morning while music plays low. I like men who notice the little details, the way my hair falls when I lean over the bar or how my dimples show when I actually mean a smile. When I am alone I stretch out on the couch in an oversized shirt and nothing else, scrolling through old photos and wondering who might want the new ones. I want someone who will text me back fast, call me out when I tease too much, and let me know exactly what he is thinking when the conversation gets warm. I flirt hard and I mean it; I like the build-up, the slow burn, and then the moment I stop holding back.