Ramón’s father wiped his brow. “Why are you asking me this? Have you talked to Linda?”
Ramón narrowed his gaze at Papá. “Would it matter if I had? Tell me the truth, Apá.”
Papá clasped his hands. “Fine. I will tell you. I have nothing to hide. I was surfing down in San Felipe. I ordered two fish tacos from a local stand. They were incredible. I had never had a fish taco before. And these tacos were delicious. Out of this world.”
He had heard this part of the story. Many, many times. “Dad, did Linda make the tacos? Was it her stand?”
Papá slumped on the sofa. “Yes, Ramón, it was.”
Ramón exhaled. Dammit. But that still didn’t mean that Papá had stolen her recipe. Maybe he just made a similar recipe, though Ramón knew that Papá was hardly a chef. Ramón would reserve judgment until he finished.
“Go on.”
“We spent every day for two weeks together. I was obsessed with her. Beautiful, kind, loving, unlike all the American girls I had met. She loved listening to me play guitar on the beach. I vowed that I would marry her, bring her to San Diego with me.”
A lump grew in Ramón’s throat. Had Apá ever loved Ramón’s mother as much as he loved Linda? “So, what happened?”
“Well, I was still in college. So, I went home, graduated, and spentevery minute working with your abuelo to save up to buy her a ring. I planned to ask her father for her hand in marriage.”
He had planned on proposing to her? This was clearly not a spring fling.
Papá continued. “I had been writing her, and for a while, she had written back. But then her letters abruptly stopped. I figured she was just mad at me for taking so long to come back. I didn’t want to give up on her until she told me to my face she wasn’t interested.”
Why had she stopped writing? She had made it seem that Papá had ghosted her.
Papá continued. “I had purchased a diamond ring. I couldn’t wait to see her. But when I arrived, I saw her kissing another man on the beach.” Papá clenched his fist. “I was so angry, Ramón. I wanted to kill him. I hadn’t even looked at another woman since I had left her that spring break. I was about to propose. I had the ring in my pocket.”
Ramón shook his head and took a sip of his beer. “I can’t even imagine.”
“That night, I got so drunk that I showed up at her house. I decided to beg her to take me back, forget about him. But I saw them in the window of her bedroom. Her parents were gone. The lights went out.”
Wow. That was brutal. “You didn’t try to talk to her?”
“No. I passed out in a shed on her property. I woke up the next morning, and they were gone. The house was empty.” Papá looked away from Ramón. Then his voice dropped to almost a whisper. “So, I went into her kitchen and ripped out the recipe for the fish tacos from her cookbook.”
Ramón’s heart wrenched.
Julieta had told him the truth.
Ramón’s hand shook. “So, you did steal her recipe? How could you do that?”
“Ramón! I went out of my mind with jealousy. Do you know what that’s like?”
Ramón had never been crazy in love like that, but he had a jealous streak. What would it be like to see Julieta with another man? Watching another guy kiss her, grab her ass, fuck her.
Heat spread through his body. Nope—he didn’t like that idea at all.
Ramón put his head in his hands. What a complete mess.
“Apá! I can’t believe you did that! Do you know what kind of lawsuit you have opened yourself up to? Openedusup to? And even if she doesn’t have a legal claim, it would be a PR nightmare. Especially since we are already considered sellouts. She could come after us. For everything.”
Ramón’s father hung his head low. “I know, I know. I never thought she would immigrate to the United States, let alone to San Diego. And I had no idea she lived in Barrio Logan. Her last name has changed.”
“Well, of course her name is different. She was married. And more importantly, she is here. And even worse, we have bought her building. We have taken over her daughter’s restaurant. And I hired her daughter to be the chef at that restaurant, so the locals won’t hate us. We need a new plan, Apá.”
“What are you saying, Ramón? Linda may have originated that recipe, but I made this company. And we don’t even use her recipe anymore. I worked for two years to save up money to open the first location. I worked twelve-hour days with your abuelo in the scorching inland heat pulling weeds to open that tiny taco stand in Pacific Beach. Business was horrible; nobody came. I thought I would have to shut it down.”
Papá stood up and began pacing around the room.
