He just hoped she considered his offer.
Ramón drove home and parked in his garage. He had planned to go upstairs and work on Julieta’s formal offer—he’d send it for consideration—but he needed a breather and to center himself.
He stripped in his garage, pulled on his wet suit, grabbed his longboard, and walked to the ocean.
He was so lucky to live steps from the beach. But what was the point of having an oceanfront residence if he was too busy to dip his feet in the sand and didn’t have anyone to share it with?
Ramón paddled out in the ocean. The water was dark. Night surfing was an art in La Jolla. Sometimes there would even be a bioluminescent display in the water.
Tonight was one of those nights. The aqua glow mesmerized Ramón. Nature’s own light show right outside his front door.
There were a few other surfers taking advantage of the calm conditions. Ramón dodged them by locating the glow sticks they had strapped to their wet suits. He didn’t need a glow stick—he had a custom-built LED surfboard made for night surfing.
Ramón scanned the dark, fathomless ocean, searching for any ripples or the dark shadows of a fin. There were no signs of any sharks, but that didn’t mean they weren’t lurking nearby.
Paddling out to the moonless sea was complete bliss—no crowds to compete with for that perfect wave.
The frigid water washed over him, but warmth flooded Ramón’s body. This was what he needed—to connect with the ocean, connect with his soul. It had been a while since he had given himself a realbreak. He hadn’t even surfed in a few weeks because he had been so busy working on this deal.
He caught his first wave, a small but smooth ride. As he glided on the board, the wind blowing on his face, he was free. This was his form of meditation.
And out here, in the night, he made peace with his role in taking over Las Pescas. It was business, his business. And in the long run, investing into Barrio Logan and supporting a chef like Julieta could only bring more opportunities to the area. Change was never easy, but it was necessary.
An hour later, Ramón finally left the water, completely relaxed. He planted himself on the cool sand with his board splayed out beside him. He took a moment to appreciate his life. Ever since college, he had been driven and completely focused. He had lost touch with himself and what made him happy. He didn’t know if his new feelings had anything to do with meeting Julieta, but he couldn’t dismiss that theory entirely. He did know that he wanted to impress her, and the normal trick of money and nice cars didn’t seem to have an effect on her.
Yet she had loved when he sang to her.
Maybe, just maybe, he could impress her with who he truly was deep inside, and not just with his money.
•••
Ramón drove up the street the next morning to the La Jolla Country Club, one of the most exclusive clubs in San Diego. It cost one hundred thousand dollars to join, required two member recommendations to even apply, and there was a three-year waiting list. Not to mention the annual sixty thousand dollars in dues.
But Ramón had learned at Harvard that the majority of business was done on the ninth hole and not in the boardroom. Part of his jobwas to play golf with other business owners. Papá had been one of the first Hispanics to be allowed into this club, and Ramón had spent much of his youth there.
He pulled up to the driveway, and the valet took his car. His wasn’t the only McLaren there that day. He checked out the Bentley SUV parked ahead of him—he had to get one of those. It wasn’t a status thing—he loved cars. He wished his abuelo could see his McLaren. He would’ve loved the sleek design and the fast engine. But investing in the Bentley SUV would allow him to take more clients out, since only one other person could fit in the McLaren.
He signed in and sat in the dining room for breakfast.
“Ramón, what are you doing here?”
His mother’s voice startled him—she didn’t come here as often since the divorce.
He looked up. A group of women in their sixties, hair perfectly coiffed, lips in various shades of plastic pink, sat around one of the white tables on the patio. Mamá held court in the middle. She always was the queen bee.
Better play the good son.
“Good morning, Mamá. Good morning, ladies.” He kissed Mamá on the cheek.
“Please, sit down.” She pulled over an extra chair before a waiter rushed to help.
“Now, Ramón. I was just telling my friends about how I wanted to take a cruise to Italy this summer with you and your brothers.”
Ramón bit his lip. The trip was news to him. “That sounds fun.” He had always wanted to go on trips with her when he was young, though usually he was just left alone with his nannies. Even on his eighth birthday, a memory that Ramón never forgot.
“Oh, it will be.” She leaned on his shoulder. Mamá was extra affectionate with him because she was in front of a crowd. She alwayswanted to pretend they had a good relationship, when in reality, she didn’t know a thing about Ramón’s life.
The uncomfortable stares from the ladies who all seemed to be sizing him up unnerved him. Ramón took control. “What are you all chatting about today?”
