Ramón had had enough—who was this woman to talk to his father that way? He stood up. “We will do no such thing. We own this building now. We’re your new landlords.”
A look of horror flashed across Julieta’s face. She threw the other plate on the ground and stormed back to the kitchen.
Rosa ran after Julieta.
Linda’s lip quivered. “How could you do this to me, Arturo? Again! Have you no shame?”
She followed Julieta into the kitchen and left Ramón and Papá standing there amidst the shattered plates.
Chapter Eight
A shard from the plate was wedged in Julieta’s ankle, but that pain was nothing compared to the stab in her heart after Ramón’s announcement.
Rosa pointed one of her ornately manicured nails at Julieta.
“Julieta! What was that about?”
Julieta just shook her head. She couldn’t tell her prima about the masked man from the night before. Rosa couldn’t keep a secret, and her entire family would be in Julieta’s business, not like they weren’t all the time anyway. Especially now that Romeo—er,Ramón—was the son of Arturo Montez. And even worse, the owner of their block.
Julieta watched from the kitchen window as he and his father left the restaurant.
Ay, Dios mío. She couldn’t even form the words to express her emotions. Her rage. Her confusion. Her helplessness.
Julieta hobbled into the bathroom and pulled the ceramic piece from her skin and rinsed the wound in water. Blood swirled down the sink along with her hope.
Mamá stormed in and hovered over her. “Julieta! How did you know that man?”
“I don’t know him, Amá. I met him last night at the Day of the Dead party.” She left out the part about how he’d serenaded her in the garden, how he’d helped her honor Papá, how he’d kissed her under the moonlight, and how she had gone home with him. None of those details were relevant at all.
All that was important now was that Romeo, aka Ramón Montez, was now her landlord.
“Is he the reason you stayed behind last night? Did you know that he planned to buy our block? Did you know who he is? Who hisfatheris?”
Julieta shook her head. “Ay, no. Of course not, Amá. I didn’t know anything. It was Día de los Muertos last night. We were in makeup, remember?”
“So, the son of the man who stole my recipe forty years ago randomly met you last night and just happened to buy our block?”
Julieta grabbed the first aid kit and doused her wound in hydrogen peroxide. She winced at the sting. “Pretty much.” She let out a deep breath and covered her cut with a bandage. “But none of that is relevant. He owns the building now. He will raise the rent and replace us with a Taco King. We will have to shut down.”
Mamá nodded. “Yes, it seems like that will be the end result.”
“Maybe I can change his mind.” Julieta didn’t believe for one second that Arturo, a man who had ruthlessly stolen Mamá’s recipe decades ago and never given her any credit, would somehow grow a conscience. But Ramón seemed different. He was kind last night, and thoughtful. But he was probably just trying to get laid.
Julieta screwed the lid back on the peroxide and then turned and leaned her back against the sink. She stared into Mamá’s brown eyes, now framed with fine lines. “What exactly happened between youand Arturo? You never told me the story. How did he steal the recipe?”
“It’s irrelevant. What is done, is done.” Mamá rushed out of the bathroom, shaking her head.
Why was Mamá so tight-lipped about her affair with Arturo? Julieta used to think it was because Mamá didn’t want to disrespect Papá. But he was dead now. Why wouldn’t Mamá tell her what had happened with Ramón’s father?
Julieta put a Band-Aid on her foot and went after Mamá. There was no sign of her in the kitchen. Julieta found her cleaning up the mess in the dining room.
Julieta grabbed a broom and a dustpan from the utility closet and joined Mamá.
“Amá,” she said under her breath, not wanting to draw further attention to their drama in front of their customers. “This is important now. Tell me.”
“Fine.” She pursed her thin lips. “Let me clean this mess up, then we shall go for a walk.”
Uh, okay. Mamá never liked to leave the restaurant during the day, but Julieta had been dying to hear this story since she was a little girl, even more so now that she had met Arturo and Ramón, so she didn’t question her.
