Ugh. Why, Jaime? Why? It was bad enough that he had broken her safe refuge away from him, but did he have to post that he was in her town next to her bar so that all her friends knew that their paths could cross?
“Do you follow him?”
Zoila shook her head. “No, silly. I don’t. But it came up on my FYP.”
Social media was the worst. Why was her ex so obsessed with it? He had been so passionate in college about wanting to become his own man. It saddened her that after he left her, he just abandoned his dreams and joined his father’s business.
“Yes—he came by, but I kicked his sorry ass out. Worse yet, the critic saw me yelling at him and left! I’m so fucked.”
Zoila put her hand over her chest. “Oh no, that sucks. Can you call the critic back and explain?”
Alma shook her head. “Doubtful. It took months for him even to consider coming.”
“I’m so sorry, girl. That blows.”
“It does.” She paused. She didn’t want to obsess over him, but she couldn’t let it go. “Jaime wanted to talk. Can you believe that?”
“Yeah. I can. But girl, he’s so fucking hot. I don’t care that he’syour ex. At least fuck him. Then ghost him. Give him some of his own medicine.”
Zoila had a point. One round, or two, or ten, with Jaime wouldleave Alma satisfied for months. But she couldn’t. He wasn’t just a one-night stand that she could fuck and forget.
She actually had loved him. Deeply.
“Hard no.”
Zoila grinned and her painted-blue lips pursed. “How hard?”
Alma rolled her eyes. Zoila was wild. Why couldn’t Alma be more like her? “Basta. Not happening.”
“Shit, girl. Where is the Alma I used to know?”
She winced. That Alma vanished once she threw herself into her business.
“She’s dead. I’m a drag.”
Zoila squeezed Alma’s hand. “Sorry—that was harsh of me, but it’s true. You’ve changed. You’re so serious now, and that’s a good thing. You’re focused and determined and you’re running a groundbreaking business right here. But if you did want to slow down, take some time for you every now and then…that would be okay too.”
“You’re right. I’ll try to be more spontaneous.” She paused. Her life was all work now and no play. “It’s just so difficult.”
“Well, don’t be selfish. At least hook me up with Santi. He’s fine and loaded.”
Both were true statements. Alma knew Santi well—after Jaime dumped her, Santi stuck around for a bit to make sure Alma was okay. And he never hit on her, which was cool because she would never date her ex’s best friend and she was sure Santi would alsonever date his best friend’s ex. Santi wasn’t a player like Jaime, but Santi was also a workaholic and didn’t want to settle down. Ever.
And Zoila just wanted to have fun.
Not to mention Santi was superconservative and Zoila was anything but. Santi spent his days making millions on apps, and she taught bilingual education at a school in the Canal that didn’t even have computers.
“Can’t. Never seeing Jaime again, so I won’t see Santi. And you can’t hang with one and not the other—they are like tequila and lime.”
Zoila shook her head, but her perfectly coiffed hair didn’t move. “Gah. You’re no fun. And mind you, Jaime doesn’t live here, so they wouldn’t be around each other all the time. I’m patient. I’ll wait…” She dramatically looked at her watch like a real-life GIF.
“Thank God for this huge-ass state.” Alma couldn’t fathom what it would be like if Jaime actually lived here. Running into him all the time would be a complete nightmare. Marin was small and intimate—definitely not big enough for the two of them.
There was a pause in the conversation. Alma took another sip of her mocha. The dark chocolate deliciousness soothed her entire body.
Zoila broke the awkward silence. “Hey. So, I was thinking of heading back to Jalisco next month.”
“Really? Why?” That was so weird. Alma was just thinking this morning of wanting to go back.
