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“Lilly’s band you told me about?” my mother asks as she dips one of the sweets into a bowl of melted chocolate.
“Yes, they’re taking revenge because the Jailbirds left, and they won’t release their album unless they cut out their manager, Evan, my boss. They’re basically using them as pawns to make the other band pay. In this industry, there are some real snakes,” I admit, feeling a weight in my chest.
“Those poor kids have already had a difficult life. How can they think of taking revenge for the choice they made? Don’t they have a heart?” Gabriela gets angry whenever someone tries to hurt the Jailbirds.
She has two grandchildren who ended up in prison and knows how difficult it is to rebuild a life once you get out.
“In that industry, very few people have a heart, and those who do suffer. In fact, I’m worried about Evan. He’s taking it on a personal level. Lilly is the partner of one of his best friends, and they are using her and her band to hurt Damian and everyone else. Evan has to solve the problem and cannot figure out how and it’s driving him crazy.”
My mother studies me and then looks at Gabriela, who has the same worried expression.
“You seem to have taken the situation to heart too,” she says carefully.
“Lilly is a friend. I see her struggling to keep her band together while trying not to fire Evan, one of her partner’s best friends. I’m sorry. I wish I could do more, find a solution.”
“You’re smart, you went to college, and you’ll solve this problem.” Gabriela puts a hand on mine and squeezes it.
I smile. I am the only person she knows who graduated from college, and I even have a master’s degree. In her eyes, I’m some kind of superhero capable of solving anything that comes my way. She has no idea how hard it is to try and live up to her expectations. Those who have never attended college think we have all the answers. They think we’re gurus who manage to sail through life as if we’re instilled with supreme knowledge. The truth is, you don’t have the faintest idea of how to deal with life after graduation. When you don’t know how to solve problems, they say, “How is that possible? You went to school to solve problems,” putting way too much pressure on you. If I add to this the fact that I’m on a personal mission to try to help Evan before he’s ruined by this situation, the pressure on me only multiplies.
“Speaking of Evan,” I sigh as I read the text that just came up on my phone. “He’s asking if I can check in with him about some details before tomorrow’s meeting with our lawyer who represents the Red Velvet Curtains. Do you mind if I leave so soon? I’ll come back this week to pick up my clothes.” I sigh as I see my mother’s face twist into a grimace of disappointment.
Gabriela intervenes. “No, young lady. If this Evan wants you to work on Sundays, at the very least, he has to pick you up here and wait until you’ve finished your laundry. This poor woman already has enough to do without washing your underwear.” She points an index finger in my face with the expression of someone who doesn’t take no for an answer.
My mother smiles and raises her hands, not wanting to stand against the woman who was a mother to us. I’m afraid if I refuse, I won’t see one bit of a churro next time. And she’s right. My mother has far too many jobs to do my laundry too, although she’d never tell me to use a laundromat. After all, these are the only moments we manage to get time together.
“Okay. I’ll tell him to come by,” I sigh, hoping Evan won’t hightail it when Gabriela hugs him and pinches his cheeks because he looks like he’s wasting away.
An hour later, Evan is standing in the center of the living room, Gabriela’s arms crushing him, wearing the bewildered expression of someone who doesn’t know how to get out of an embarrassing situation.
My mother grabs me by the arm and drags me to the kitchen. “Do you have something to tell me?”
I frown and study her mischievous expression without knowing how to answer.
“I thought Evan was a balding sixty-year-old man with a beer belly. I certainly didn’t imagine him like that hot guy Gabriela is eating alive.”
I roll my eyes. “What was I supposed to tell you? He’s my boss! Should I have brought you a picture?”
“You never told me he looks like that!” she whispers, waving her hands like a crazy woman.
“What exactly did you want to know? That he’s cute? Mom!”
My mother frowns. “Do you call that god ‘cute’? No wonder you’re still single. What kind of standards do you have?”
“He’s unbelievably hot, but he’s my boss. I can’t think about him without clothes on,” I whisper-shout, hoping she understands.
“Oh, so you do think about him without clothes on?” She raises an eyebrow as the mischievous smile appears on her face again.
“No, I saw him in a swimsuit.”
“And is he breathtaking?”
“Mom!”
“See? You don’t want to answer. You’re hiding something.”
“Do you want me to tell you that his abs are so sculpted you could rock climb on them?”
My mother smiles. “So, youchecked him out.”
