And now that he had seen her again, he was certain that what he felt for her years ago was in fact love.
Jaime reached into his pocket to grab his phone and shot off a text:You were right. I’m on my way.
He walked down Tiburon Boulevard and made a sharp left into one of his old comfort restaurants—a place that might be able to take the sting out of Alma’s rejection.
Sam’s Anchor Cafe.
Oh, Sam’s. Back when he and Alma were in college, and she would visit her hometown, he would take her on day dates in Tiburon. Life was so carefree then. They would sit on the deck overlooking the water and dream of their future. Even then, Jaime was cautious not to promise her anything. He was always painfully aware that he was a Montez first and foremost, and he couldn’t justdo whatever he wanted to whenever he wanted to. Though now, with his father’s absence, he finally felt free. Not that he was ready for a relationship.
Back then, he admired Alma because her parents had no expectations that she would return home and work on the family business. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Her mother was a maid, and her father was a gardener. They worked so hard their entire lives so their children could have better ones. So, though Alma definitely felt pressure to help out her parents financially, she was free to pursue whatever career excited her.
Her dreams were her own. There was no family business to work for, no decade-long business rivalry to tarnish her company’s hard work, no wrongs of her family that she needed to make right.
Growing up in San Diego, Jaime had a blessed life, well, besides his parents’ acrimonious divorce. Jaime lived in La Jolla, went to the best private schools, and was coached by the best soccer players. He spent his summers surfing in Baja and his winters skiing in Lake Tahoe, with spring breaks sunbathing in Kaua’i and Thanksgivings hiking in Yosemite. And as the baby, Jaime always had Ramón and Enrique there to protect him. Being the son of a fast-food tycoon also came with perks. His father had introduced the fish taco to San Diego, and later to the rest of California. It had been a rousing success, until his father and Ramón bought the block in Barrio Logan where Julieta’s own restaurant was. Turns out that Julieta’s mom, Linda, was his father’s spring break fling, and his father had stolen the fish taco recipe from Linda. Luckily, Ramón was able to fix things without further damaging the brand.
Jaime had so much privilege, and was completely aware of all the advantages it gave him in life. He didn’t have any right to complain when he’d been blessed with so much while others struggled.But Jaime’s life was not without difficulties. He was stifled by his father’s and his eldest brother Ramón’s expectations of him. He, like Enrique, wanted to make his own way. But it was easier forEnrique—he was so laid-back, go with the flow, and well, cool. Jaime had his father’s temper and sometimes rage consumed him, and he couldn’t control his emotions. Enrique kept nagging him to go to therapy, but Jaime would rather work in the corporate office with Ramón than talk about his feelings to a shrink. Jaime had never been good at opening up about his feelings and those paralyzing expectations to anyone for fear of sounding ungrateful for his lot in life.
Anyone, that is, except Alma.
She had understood him.
But back then, he’d been just a cocky college student.
And now, he was just a fucking mess.
Jaime headed to the back of the deck where Santi awaited him. Santi laughed and glanced at his watch. “That’s gotta be a record. She kicked you out in five minutes flat. Brutal. Not gonna say I told you so, but I did, so…”
Jaime sighed. “I know, I know. I should’ve listened to you. You are right. She hates me.”
Santi flagged down the waitress. The peppy blonde approached the table. “I see your friend arrived.” She batted her eyes at Santi, who ignored her charms. “What can I get you, gentlemen?”
“I’ll have bourbon on the rocks.” Santi pointed to Jaime. “And this poor bastard will have a vodka martini with two olives, shaken, not stirred.”
Jaime shook his head. “Who am I? James Bond?”
Santi smirked. “That was your drink in college.”
“I’ve grown up.” But had he? Jaime shook off that thought.“Actually, I’ll have your best tequila, but not on the rocks.” At least he learned one thing from Alma before she kicked him out. “And an order of the calamari.”
Santi shooed away a seagull. “And some blue cheese garlic bread.”
The waitress returned to the bar.
Thank God Jaime was with Santi and not Enrique, who would no doubt want Jaime to explore his feelings in depth. Jaime didn’t want to say a word, at least not until liquor calmed his nerves and food filled his stomach.
The waitress returned with their drinks and their appetizers. She placed a single shot of tequila in front of Jaime.
“Here you go, sir. It’s El Tesoro Blanco. It’s my favorite and additive-free. But if you really want to get some great tequila, you should try Mezcalifornia a few doors down. That place is fire and the girl that runs it is badass. Her name is Alma. Severe girl crush. Cheers!”
Santi burst into laughter.
Fuck my life.
Jaime put his head in his hands.
The waitress’s face contorted. “Did I say something funny? I’m dead serious. She’s amazing.”
Jaime opened up his mouth to speak but Santi interjected. “No. Not at all. Yes, Alma is amazing. Jaime here used to date her. They were college sweethearts.”
