Probably the only one he ever would. Jaime couldn’t fathom falling for someone else.
Now she was probably whisperingI love yous to another man who wasn’t such an idiot to let her go.
“What’s on your mind, man? You never call me.”
Jaime snapped back into the moment. He was so lost in the memory that he had almost forgotten that Santi was still on the phone.
“Right, sorry. I’m a bit out of it.”
“You drunk?”
“No. Not at all. Though I did just have two shots of this tequila. Tom Bluey’s new one. Have you tried it?”
“Nah. Most of that celebrity stuff is crap.”
Was it ever. “Agreed. They asked me to do some posts about it, but I’m not going to.”
“Good decision.”
“Anyway, I called because I stumbled across Mezcalifornia, a tequila bar in Tiburon. Alma’s bar. Do you know about it?”
He laughed. “Of course I do. Everyone knows that place. Alma is the toast of Tiburon. I would’ve taken you there last time you were in town, but you told me not to mention her name. Ever.”
Fuck. “I know.”
“You over her now?”
Jaime ran his hand through his hair. No need to lie. “Never.”
Santi sighed. “Don’t blame you. She’s perfection.”
Latent rage pooled inside him. So much for never being jealous. “Don’t even think about it, Santi. Anyone but her.”
“Relax, man. I would never. I mean, if she wasn’t your ex, I’d be all over her ass, but she is, so I won’t cross that line.”
Jaime appreciated his friend respecting the bro code, but Santi’s words made him uneasy. There were plenty of amazing rich men, not that Alma cared about the size of a man’s wallet, that were not Jaime’s friends who would be more than happy to sweep her off her feet.
“Good. Well, the thing is, getting asked to promote the tequila line made me think. Why don’t I start a tequila line of my own?”
Santi laughed. “Oh, I don’t know. How about because you don’t know shit about tequila? Remember that time in Cabo when you couldn’t even handle the tequila flight and ordered a strawberry margarita?”
Yeah, he was a lightweight back then. “How could I not—you won’t let me forget it. But how hard can it be? We’re Mexican, it’s in our blood.”
“We? Meaning you and me, or you and Alma?”
“All three of us.”
“I spent years of my life being your third wheel. Never again.”
They had done everything together. Day trips to music festivals on the Russian River, wine tasting at the hottest restaurants in Sonoma, barhopping in Santa Rosa. Those days were the best.
“Are you seeing someone?”
“That’s a negative. I don’t have any time.”
Now it was Jaime’s turn to laugh. Santi was a workaholic, almost as bad as Ramón was before he met Julieta.
“Neither do I. Well, I mean no time for a relationship. I do have time to start a new business, and I have the money. I’m bored, Santi. Sick of doing cheesy brand deals and modeling gigs. Plus, I miss Northern California. Maybe I can come up there for a bit?”
