Page 89 of Blush Crush

“She’s wondering where you are,” I whisper just as Wela sets down the dish in the center of the table, her attention zeroing in on Ariana.

“There she is,” Wela says with a smile.

My grandmother speaks fluent English, but her accent is still somewhat thick, making it difficult for outsiders to understand her sometimes. We’re all around her often so we’re used to filling in the blanks and deciphering her stories when she mixes upheandshein English.

Blake is the most fluent in Spanish out of us kids. Nora and Wyatt are average and I fall somewhere in the middle. Not great, but not terrible.

I think if Wela didn’t sprinkle in Spanish around us, I would’ve lost it completely by now.

“Qué linda eres,” Wela says, gently grabbing hold of Ariana’s chin to tilt her face up.

I tense up, knowing this isn’t normal. We’ve tried to tell her she can’t just go around grabbing people’s faces but it’s never gotten through to her. After a decades-long career in the beauty industry, she’s overly comfortable getting up close and personal with strangers.

Ariana smiles warmly at her and I feel myself relax a fraction.

At least she’s not freaking out from my invasive grandmother.

“What does muñequita mean?” Ariana asks, pronouncing the word slowly.

Wela releases her chin and slides her gaze to me before returning it to Ariana.

“It means little doll. Because you look like a beautiful little doll.”

Ariana’s eyes dart to mine. Like she just made the connection on where her nickname came from.

During the grand opening of the tasting room, Wela stopped by and eventually wandered over to Novel. When she came back with her cafecito, she wouldn’t stop talking—in Spanish—about the cute little doll who made her drink. By then, I was already fighting a growing fascination with Ariana, and Wela wasn’t wrong. She was this stunning, untouchable doll. Fair skin, pink cheeks, bright blue eyes. Almost too beautiful to be real.

The first time I called her doll, it just slipped out. But then it stuck. And I guess I never really told her why.

Nora appears, noticeably without Levi, in the doorway of the dining room still holding her phone, slightly breathless. “I’m so sorry,” she says to the table, already moving to her seat. “Client emergency. Completely unavoidable. I missed everything, didn’t I?”

“Just lots of awkwardness,” Blake provides. He’s been steering clear of everything. Always more of an observer than a participant.

“You think everything is awkward,” Nora says to Blake before sitting down and turning to Ariana. “Hi.” She grins. “So you’re really with my brother? Because I do not want it held against my coffee order when he inevitably fucks up.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Nor. Really appreciate it.”

Ariana chuckles. “I’ll grant you full immunity.”

That seems to please Nora enough to keep her from pestering Ariana.

Dishes get passed around. Mexican rice, refried beans, Wela’s chile rellenos.

As everyone is serving themselves, my dad stands, clearing his throat and clinking a butter knife against his wine glass.

He looks around the table. Then he looks at Jack.

And I get the feeling I’m not going to like where this is going.

“You going to say it or should I?” he asks, eyes on Jack.

Jack leans back in his chair. “It’s your house,” he responds. “Go ahead.”

Ariana and I look at each other, confused and a little worried about what the fuck these two old guys cooked up.

My dad nods, raising his glass. “When Jack and I were still the head guys in charge, ruthlessly competing against each other, we used to joke that at least one of our kids was going to end up together.” He pauses, looking between me and Ariana. “We meant it as a joke…but eventually it turned into a bet.”

Jack briefly stands and retrieves his wallet, where he pulls out a hundred-dollar bill, and hands it over to my dad.