She had to talk to him—at least hear him out. Before he could even think of asking her to teach him about tequila, he had to do what was right. Apologize for surprising her. Explain why he hadn’t been in contact since they broke up, though honestly, that should be obvious. It was still painful for both of them.
He took a step closer to her. Though she had been dressed all sexy at the bar, Jaime preferred her as she was now—wearing a white T-shirt and jeans. It reminded him of how she was in college, where he’d fallen in love with her. Naturally beautiful. He breathed her in—her vanilla scent filled the air.
Damn, he missed her. Not just her body, or the way her haircascaded onto her breasts, but her smile, her passion, her warmth, the way she made him feel.
Jaime ran his hands through his hair. “Alma, can we talk?”
She held hers up like a stop sign. “No. I have nothing to say toyou. I’m not really involved in the organization of this festival, so if Carlos feels he needs you and your family to raise money for our hometown, that’s fine. It’s for the greater good and has nothing to do with me.”
He couldn’t even get a word in to explain himself. “Okay. But please, just talk to me for a few minutes. I want to—”
She glared at him, and in that hard look, Jaime felt the guilt of ending their relationship crash down on him. The pain, the anger, the longing, that sharp stare conveyed it all.
His gut wrenched.
“No. No. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want any part of it, of you, or of your family. The festival is big—we won’t have to interact. I’m not agreeing to spend time with you—I’m doing it for him.” She pointed to the little boy.
And with that, she turned to Carlos and grabbed his arm. She stomped away from Jaime as Tequila waddled after her, and Alma and her brother tossed words back and forth in Spanish. Unluckily, or luckily in this situation, Jaime didn’t have a clue what they were saying. They spoke too fast, and he didn’t understand more than a spattering of words. Being a no sabo kid really sucked.
Santi put his hand on Jaime’s shoulder. “Man, that was painful to watch.”
“Yup.” Totally embarrassing.
A man with salt-and-pepper hair and leathery skin pushed a paleta cart on the sidewalk. Jaime handed the guy a one-hundred-dollar bill and took a coconut one and gave the frozen treat to the little boy.
The boy’s eyes widened. “Gracias, Señor.”
“De nada.” Jaime’s Spanish sucked but he could flub his waythrough basic communication. A wave of shame flashed over him for not being able to communicate in his culture’s native tongue.
Santi’s face twisted. “So, I thought you didn’t want to involve your family in this tequila idea. Are you going to tell them about it since they will be up here?”
“Yeah, I’ll probably have to. They are just coming up for the Cinco festival, not to help me. What I really came here for, to try to get Alma to teach me about tequila, is not even plausible at this point. She fucking hates me.”
“I love that song, man.”
Jaime shook his head. “Not funny, bro.”
“Look, she’s in shock. You bombarded her. And now her own brother is forcing you to do an event together, for a good cause no doubt but still awkward.”
“Yeah, and it will be even tougher for her once my whole family shows up.” It definitely wasn’t fair to overwhelm her like this. But Jaime was grateful that his family agreed to help the Canal. Ramón had some serious clout and star power, especially now with all the media attention for his wedding to Julieta, which was at the end of the summer. And Enrique’s girlfriend, Carolina, was an icon in the community, ever since the graduation photos of her picking strawberries on the farm where her migrant parents worked went viral. She later bought the farm with money raised from the media attention.
“It could be a lot for her. You guys never spent too much time with your family, did you?”
“I mean, they definitely know her, but we were so young then. Back when we were together, she always said she thought theydidn’t like her, which wasn’t true. I think they both didn’t want to get too close to her knowing that I was only in college, and it probably wouldn’t last.”
Santi grabbed his soccer ball from the car. “Well, clearly they were right.”
“Yeah.” They were. They were right about everything. And next thing he knew, his brothers would be up here in Marin for the festival. Jaime still hadn’t told them he planned to open a tequila line. Why bother? They would just tell him he couldn’t do it.
No one ever believed he’d amount to anything other than a pretty face.
Well, someone did once—Alma.
Besides, he didn’t need to tell his brothers anything about his plans. He had his own money. They were so busy they would just do the festival, maybe spend a few days up in beautiful Marin, and then leave. After they were gone, Jaime could figure out how to start a tequila company on his own.
The heated Spanish discussion had ended. Jaime expected Alma to take off in her car, but she marched into the park with Tequila in tow and sat down on a bench on the other side of the field. She lifted up her dog and placed her next to her.
Carlos walked over to Jaime.
