“Cool. I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
“Yup. Night.”
He closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep but it didn’t work. He was up most of the night watching her sleep.
How had he been so stupid, allowing himself to find feelings he thought he had lost forever?
She woke early in the morning.
Jaime needed to bounce.
“I’d love to stay and have breakfast, but I have to meet my brothers.”
“Oh, totally. I have to get to work.” She kissed him softly. “I’ll see you at the Cinco festival.”
“Yup. See you there.”
Jaime bolted out of her place and walked back to his hotel. Once there, he finally crashed.
When he woke up, it was early afternoon. He texted his brothers.
Jaime:Sorry I’ve been absent. Can you meet for lunch?
Ramón:Yup. We’re at the Depot now.
Jaime:On my way.
The Depot was close by in the neighboring town of Mill Valley. It was a historic train stop that had been turned into a bookstore and café. He and Alma would often go there and study together when they spent weekends in Marin.
Jaime arrived. The place looked exactly as he remembered it. People playing chess, skateboarding on the concrete, reading underneath trees. It reminded Jaime of Europe.
Europe.
Jaime had planned to surprise Alma with a graduation trip to Europe as she had never been. But he had broken up with her instead.
Had she ever gone?
Ramón and Enrique were sitting at a table, drinking coffee. Their women were nowhere to be found.
Ramón stood up and hugged Jaime. “You look like shit. Rough night?”
Jaime nodded. “Yeah. I’ll tell you all about it. Where are Santi and Tiburón?”
“You know Tiburón. He convinced Santi to take him joyriding in one of his many cars.”
“Sounds like him. I’m going to get some food.”
Jaime walked into the café and ordered a breakfast burrito and an iced vanilla latte with a double shot of espresso.
While he waited for his food, he perused the books. The store was small with a curated collection of cookbooks, YA books, and some literary fiction.
He paused over a book with cocktail recipes. He picked it up and browsed through the pages.
Alma should write one about tequila.
He wanted to text her right away, but her words rang in his head.
She wanted this to be casual.
