Alma tossed her hair back and laughed. “This is hard work?”
“Yeah, Enrique would love it though. I have to get him out here.”
“You have a natural skill,” Alejandro commented in English to Alma, his voice a low rumble.
“I agree with him,” Gabriela said. “I’ve been doing this since I was a child. The agave speaks to me. It looks like it speaks to you also.”
Alma lit up and beamed. She was absolutely adorable. “Oh. Gracias. I feel so connected to it. I love all types of tequila, but being here and seeing the plants is so cool. I even named my dog Tequila.”
“I can sense your passion,” Alejandro said with a growl.
Alma giggled.
Jaime glared at him. He tried to control his jealousy. He wanted to make her giggle, and not just when he was fumbling a plant.
Alejandro said no encouraging words about Jaime’s skills, but that was fine. Jaime was just happy to be there with Alma. He wanted to know how to do this stuff for his brand, but he wouldn’t be the one working the fields himself. He was better on the business side of things. But it did give him a better appreciation of the beverage.
Jaime and Alma continued to work in silence, the only sounds being the rhythmic chopping and the distant calls of the workers heading home. As the sky turned a deeper shade of orange, Alejandro broke the silence.
“Tequila making is like creating a piece of art, isn’t it?” he mused, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.
Gabriela nodded, glancing at him. “It’s all about patience, passion, and understanding the soul of the agave. Each batch tells a different story.”
Alma translated for Jaime.
What if that could be their story? What if they could somehow have the patience to make this relationship work despite their rocky past? Would their passion sustain them?
Their eyes met, and something unspoken passed between them. It was a moment of connection, deep and undeniable.
As the day’s work came to an end, Gabriela offered to walk Alma back with her to the distillery room.
“I’ll meet up with you in a few minutes.” Jaime waved her on.
Alma didn’t ask him why and continued on with Gabriela.
Jaime stayed back, wanting to talk to Alejandro since he seemed to speak some English.
“So where is your farm?” he asked as they walked up between rows of plants.
“In a town about twenty miles from here. Would you like to see it?”
“I can’t on this trip. But maybe I’ll return. I was wondering…” Jaime took a deep breath in. “Do you contract with brands to create tequila lines?”
Alejandro’s smile turned to a scowl.
He sized up Jaime. “I do. But not with everyone. We have a very pure batch. I like to see who I’m dealing with. And you barely even speak Spanish.”
Jaime exhaled. Could he ever escape being a no sabo kid?
He tried a different approach. Jaime took out his card. “I’m Jaime Montez. My father is Arturo Montez. We own the Taco King franchise.”
He studied the card. “I have never heard of you. Or your father.”
“Doesn’t matter. I have ample money. Anyway, I’m interested in starting a brand.”
“With your wife?”
“Oh, Alma? She’s not my wife.”
