“Good day to you, señor.”Lo sat at the base of the fountain next to the bunny cactus.She took off her shoes and dipped her toes in the fountain’s water.Some things never changed.“Do you think any of your brothers would be interested in Fortune’s Kiss?”
“Hmm.”Mayté plopped next to her and thought about it.The twins, Benito and Pablito, were still toddlers.Manuel had just turned nine, but Mateo was fifteen.Still, he was much too consumed with girls to care about wealth.Carlos was eighteen, but, according to their mother, his duty was to marry a respectable woman, winning thefavorandsupportthat would come from such a match.He didn’t need Fortune’s Kiss.Not like Mayté did.“None of them have the drive.Anyway, you only ask about my brothers when you can’t think of what else to say.”
“Ay, you caught me.It’s just …” Lo swirled her toe through the water, fracturing the reflection like mosaic glass.“I wasn’t expecting the doors to open so soon, you know?Tomorrow night is going to be here before we know it.And they’re only accepting ten entrants!”
The spraying mist was usually refreshing, especially on sweltering summer days, but right now it chilled Mayté.Would they be able to get in?What if they couldn’t?The thought of continuing like this, dirt poor, with a muddied family reputation, at the mercy of patrons and shopkeepers: she couldn’tbear it.The two fell silent until the spurting, babbling waters became deafening.
At times like this, there was only one thing to do.Mayté went over to a sage bush.She pushed past the purply flowers and pulled out a pouch of old paint supplies.Her secret stash.It may not have been the safest place to keep her stuff, but the odds were much better here, away from the twins’ grubby little fingers.
“Oooh.What are you going to paint?”Lo asked.
“Who else but you?You are my muse, Lorena de León.”Mayté deepened her voice, impersonating a suitor.“With my art skills, I’ll prove that I’m the best man for you, my lady.”
“Oh, hush!”Lo splashed at her.
With a laugh, Mayté sat in the dirt and crossed her legs.Truth was, painting calmed her.The messier the effort, the clearer her mind became.She pulled out a small oval-shaped canvas and began outlining Lo’s face and hair with graphite.Real cameos with engraving and glass were much too expensive, so she painted her own.Lo’s curls were always so fun to draw.“Let’s talk through what we know, and then make a plan.The doors open tomorrow at dusk and they’re only accepting ten entrants.Also, the price of entry may be steep.”
“The winner, or winners, are the last ones standing after everyone else folds,” Lo said.
“Mm.”Mayté nodded.“The winning pairs had to be on to something.Working together will increase the odds in our favor.”She paused to quickly sketch out Lo’s bemused expression.Perfect.“What do you think it’s like inside the salon?”
Winners described it as a beautiful dream, full of luxuries, riches, and magic they could barely comprehend.The losers babbled about giving anything for a second chance to return.
A picture was worth a thousand words, yet no one had replicated it in a painting yet.And if the outside was so incredible, then the inside had to be absolutely stellar.A thrill shivered up Mayté’s spine.
“Fortune’s … Kiss …” Lo propped her head in her hand.“It sounds like something romantic and decadent.Like everything will be made of pure gold and like—” She smirked.“Lips and bosoms everywhere.Statues of lovers passionately all over each other,” she drawled, eyes aglow with mischief.
“Please, no!”Mayté wrinkled her nose.
“But really, who cares what it looks like, so long as the prize is enough.”Lo sat up, frowning hard as a marble sculpture.“Enough to live happily and never have to rely on a man ever again.”
“Itwillbe enough.”Mayté layered golden brown paints for Lo’s face and hair.“Every winner is happy.They come back with life-changing fortunesandtheir most desperate wishes granted.Kings have ascended to their throne not by blood, but from winning.People recover from diseases; even the dead have been brought back to life, and we all know the rumors about our”—she cleared her throat, correcting herself—“lasgrandes familias.”Ever since they were little girls, they heard versions of the tale of triumph.“Hey!Do you remember the stories about the last winner from Milagro?Edmund Benedict III?”
“He won the round during winter solstice, right?”
Mayté nodded as she replicated the shine of Lo’s luscious curls on the palette.“With his winnings, he moved himself and his entire family to a secluded island and turned it into his own personal kingdom.Every palm tree gilded in gold.Every meal an imported delicacy from nearby countries.An entourage ofelephants to ride as transport.Just imagine what we could do.”The endless possibilities tantalized her.More than anything, she wanted this.“I’ll use my fortune to become a famous painter.Mayté, they’ll call me.Not María Teresa Robles, justMayté.”She admired the cameo.There was something alluring about half-finished work.So much mystery.Less overwhelming than a blank canvas.Too far in to give up.
“And your family, you’ll really leave them all behind?”Lo asked softly.
“Why shouldn’t I?”Mayté replied without a thought.“They only see me as a glorified babysitter.The boys are getting older, and Carlos will take care of things.Plus, it’ll be one less mouth to feed.Once I’m free, I’ll buy myself a big house by the sea.”
“You better not forget about me when you go.”
“Never.”Mayté grinned.“You and your sisters could live with me if you’d like.We’d make our own family.”
Lo frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s just, I’ve been thinking.”Lo twirled a curl around her finger.“My mother could still be in Fortune’s Kiss.Maybe that’s why she hasn’t returned.We could bring her back.”
Mayté’s stomach lurched.All these years, Lo had clung to the hope that one day her mother would come back home.She was certain she had fled to Fortune’s Kiss.Everyone else thought she had simply run off.Mayté wasn’t sure what she believed, but whenever the topic came up, her gut twisted with dread.Deep in her heart, she felt that Lo’s mother would never return.Yet she never had the heart to admit that to her best friend; so, like always, she forced a smile.“Then if she’s in there, we’ll bring her back too.”And she truly meant it.
Seemingly satisfied, Lo turned away, gazing at the fountain’s water.“But what if we lose?”
“We won’t,” Mayté assured her.“But even if we did, we’ll have time to think of a plan while we work off our debts.Together, we’ll come up with something.”
“We’re really going to do this, aren’t we?”Lo whispered, just as the exact same thought crossed Mayté’s mind.They were both on the same page.Always had been.
