Ramón agreed but shushed Papá. They were here to eat, not announce their takeover loudly and alarm the current tenants.
After twenty minutes, a pretty woman came out holding two plates of food. Same color eyes as the hostess, and similar shaped mouth.
And nose.
And long dark hair.
It couldn’t be. His eyes were betraying him again because he so badly wanted to see Juliet once more.
Ramón focused on the beautifully intricate Catrina tattoo on her arm.
Just like the one...
Whoa. Was that her? Surely not...
His eyes locked with hers, and there was no doubt.
Ramón had found his dead runaway bride.
“Juliet? It’s me. Romeo.”
Her mouth slowly opened as a flicker of recognition spread across her face. She dropped one of the hot plates, ceramics and salsa splattering everywhere.
The other customers turned to stare.
Her brow furrowed and her jaw dropped. “What are you doing here?” The look on her face turned from confusion to rage. She clenched her hand in a fist. “Did you come to steal one of my recipes for your crappy restaurants?”
What? Why would she say such a thing?
Arturo’s face contorted, and he leaned across the table. “What is she talking about, mijo?”
“I don’t know. I’ll handle it, Apá.” Ramón stood up to face Juliet, who was now even more breathtaking to him without last night’s makeup. Man, she drew him in like a flame. He almost forgot what he was going to say when he was face-to-face with her magnetic beauty. Oh right, she had just accused him of trying to steal a recipe. What in the— “I don’t understand why you would think that. Do youworkhere?”
She let out an audible huff and then raised her chin proudly. “I’m thechefhere, ‘Romeo.’ ”
Holy shit. Ramón’s jaw dropped and his gut clenched. “It’s Ramón, actually. I didn’t know this was your restaurant.”
The patrons turned to witness this train wreck.
An older woman ran out from the kitchen. “Ay, Julieta, what is going on here?”
Juliet-a? The Spanish version of fair Juliet. Of course, that’s her name.
“Nothing, Amá.” Her voiced cracked. “These guests were just leaving.”
Papá gazed at Julieta’s mom. His eyes widened, and he tilted his head. He stood up and stepped toward her.
“Linda? Is it you? It’s me! Arturo!”
Wait, his dad knew her mom? “Apá? You know her?”
Linda clasped her hands together in a prayer position, and her eyes widened in surprise before they narrowed in rage. She took a deep breath and straightened her apron. “My daughter was right. Get out! You are not welcome in here.”
Ramón’s thoughts raced. What had just happened? Why were they both so mad? How did Papá know her mom? Ramón didn’t have a clue, but he would figure it out. Clearly, there had been a big misunderstanding. Everyone just needed to take a deep breath and calm down.
Ramón sat and wiped some salsa off his suit leg. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what is going on here. Why are you both so upset?”
Linda pointed to Arturo. “It does not matter. You have caused me enough pain and suffering. Just leave.”
