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“Anyone else?” Mom asks.
My sister and I decline. Dad takes her up on her offer.
“Let me help—”
“Sit with your boyfriend,” she says.
All righty, then.
Mom is back in a flash.
She drops a plate in front of both men, and takes a seat.
Bryce scoops up a spoonful of dessert and brings it to his mouth.
We wait with bated breath.
He takes a bite of the dulce frío and chews.
His blue eyes widen. “This is delicious!”
“Sofia prepared it,” Ciara says.
“Thumbs up, beautiful,” he says. “I’m going for seconds when I’m finished with this.”
I’m fifty shades of red. “Thanks.”
Dad claps. “Bryce likes dulce frío! He’s a keeper!”
How quickly the tide turns.
“The evening is taking a turn for the better, and I hate to bring up anything that might kill the mood,” Mom says, “but Bryce, what was so important?”
“Good question,” Ciara says. “Why did you have to tackle me like a linebacker to get into the house?”
Bryce drops his spoon on the plate.
“My team was able to track down Brad—”
“What?” I shout.
Ciara chokes on the white wine she just gulped.
Mom gasps, her hands flying to cover her mouth.
“You found el pendejo?” Dad asks.
Bryce nods. “Yes.”
“I thought you were in the internet security business,” Dad says.
“My company provides assistance to corporations dealing with internet fraud and white-collar crimes. Given the staggering amount at risk, my reach is wide. Sofia’s case is different, Emilio. It’s personal. This is outside of our scope, and I could’ve out sourced it, but we don’t have time to waste. Not to mention, my team is the best at tracking wrongdoers. To answer your question, yes, I’m going after el pendejo.”
Dad beams at Bryce like he’s the Second Coming of Jesus.
Bryce leans into me. “What does pendejo means?”
I look up at him. “Literally, it means pubic hair. Latinos use it as an insult—asshole.”
