by Mia Sosa
Julian chuckles. “It’s true, though.”
Eva cackles and pushes him away. “No, it’s not, dammit.”
“What about Tori? She’s black, too.”
“Yes, but she’s Latina, so she’s expected to salsa her way through life.”
Tori snorts. “So, so true.”
Julian tosses his head back and grins. “Ah, okay. Well, don’t worry. I don’t know the Electric Slide anyway.”
Eva purses her lips in mock disbelief. “I know you know that dance, Julian.”
He laughs. “Oh, yeah, how do you know this, Eva?”
She waves his question away. “Do you have a sister, and is she married?”
“Yes, and yes,” he answers.
“Did she have a traditional wedding?”
“She did.”
“Then someone in her wedding party danced the Electric Slide. I’d bet money on it.”
Julian shakes his head, his eyes lit with amusement. “Can’t argue with that, either, because it’s true.”
Tori drags Eva to the center of the room for an impromptu dance party. “C’mon, woman. Let’s burn some calories before we eat.”
“I’m starting to get flashbacks to the time you tortured me in your Zumba class, Eva,” Carter says from the sidelines.
Eva waves him over. “Get your butt out here, then, and show us what you learned.”
We all join in the fun, making use of the available space in the center of the room. Giving up on trying to follow any steps, we dance together in a circle, until Eva backs up and slams into a man I’ve never seen before.
He shoots out his arm to steady her. “Whoa, there. Be careful where you’re going, pretty lady.”
Pint-sized Eva looks up at him, her short, springy curls dancing around her. “Be careful where you’re standing, Thor. Mere mortals can’t survive crashing into you.”
The guy isn’t as huge as Thor, nor does he possess Thor’s golden locks, but he’s towering over Eva, and his pecs are impressive.
“Anthony,” Tori says excitedly. “You made it.”
Anthony’s gruff exterior softens the moment his gaze settles on Tori. “Princessa.”
Tori dives into his arms and squeezes him tightly. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
Carter saunters over. “Anthony, the cousin from California, right?”
They shake hands.
“Right.”
“Good to finally meet you, man.”
“Same,” Anthony says.
“Everyone,” Tori says with a bounce. “This is my cousin Anthony. He’s like a big brother to me.”
Anthony turns his head in Eva’s direction. “And who’s this Tinkerbell?”
Eva freezes, and a small vein appears at her right temple. “I’m Eva, an adult woman with a black belt in tae kwon do who doesn’t appreciate being called Tinkerbell.”
He holds up his hands in surrender. “Warning issued and heeded. I won’t make that mistake again. But as a sixth-dan black belt, I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out that someone with tae kwon do training shouldn’t be so quick to show her temper.”
Eva huffs. “Someone who knows nothing about me shouldn’t be so quick to give me his unsolicited advice.”
Julian and I glance at each other and step away from the fireworks.
Carter jumps in to bring the situation to a simmer. “So, Anthony, Tori tells me you’re a stunt coordinator. You’ve probably worked with a few of my stunt doubles.”
Anthony shifts to Eva’s left, deftly moving outside her verbal firing range. “Ever work with Jack Henson? He’s one of my guys.”
Julian joins them. “I know Jack. He did stunt work for one of my clients. Not for Carter, though. He’s too delicate for physical roles like that.”
Carter draws back, and his mouth goes slack. “I could wrestle you to the ground in five seconds flat.”
Julian laughs, his expression calm and unconcerned. “I doubt that. Besides, Tori wouldn’t want to you to get any bumps or bruises this weekend, so this isn’t the time to be issuing any challenges.” Julian grabs his chin. “Can’t do anything to mar that pretty face of yours.”
Carter’s eyes narrow, and the corner of his mouth quirks up as he pulls away. “Well, aren’t you a lucky one, then?”
I watch the guys mess with each other, enjoying how easily they get along, until Eva pulls Tori and me to the side. “Help me, ladies. I don’t know what’s happening. It’s not like me to bite someone’s head off like that. Anthony’s hotness short-circuited my brain.”
Tori takes Eva’s hands. “I say this as your very best friend in the world, don’t go there. He’s emotionally unavailable.”
Eva waggles her eyebrows. “Oooh. A challenge. My favorite kind of project.”
Tori throws up her hands. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. And what about Nate?”
I’m having trouble keeping up with who’s who, but I love that they’re including me in their circle. “Who’s Nate?”
“My former boss,” Tori says. “He’s currently backing my new studio. And he’s in love with Eva.”
“Correction,” Eva says with a shake of her head. “He’s in love with the idea of being in love, and I’m not ready to be the princess in his fairy tale.”
“Hey, ladies,” Lydia says as she slides into an open spot next to me. “What are you talking about? And who’s the new man candy?”
“He’s my Mr. Goodbar, so back off,” Eva says.
I burst out laughing. “I think I love you, Eva.”
She gives me a hip bump. “I think I could grow to love you, Ashley. I need to vet you a little more before I can be certain.”
I return her wink, and we smile at each other.
My father emerges from the kitchen ringing a bright red cowbell with his school’s alma mater printed across the widest part. “Dinner is served. Please make your way to the dining room.” He bows as he backs out of the room.
Eva tugs on my sleeve as we walk down the hall. “Where’s everyone? Our family’s reunion is usually ten times this big. Like we have enough people to field two football teams.”
“The Williamsons are a small bunch. And most of Tori’s extended family is in Puerto Rico. We’ll get a few stragglers Saturday, including my grandparents on my dad’s side. Just wait until you meet Grandpa James. He’s a hoot.”
A hand lands on my waist, and I look down to see Julian’s arm pulling me to him. He brushes his lips against my temple without losing his stride. A frisson of electricity pings around in my belly like a pinball.
“I’m hungry,” he says nonchalantly, as if touching me is second nature to him and I should treat his affection as commonplace. I shoot him a questioning look, and he leans into me. “Don’t look so taken aback. We’re dating, remember?”
Uh, I won’t forget that we’re pretending to be dating anytime soon, but that doesn’t mean I’m not surprised when he acts like my boyfriend. Or that I’m not freaked out about enjoying it so much.
We snag the seats next to Tori and Carter, with Julian sitting closest to Carter. Unfortunately, Lydia and my aunt and uncle take the chairs across from me. But I don’t worry myself over that minor annoyance and instead focus on the culinary delights in the middle of the table. It’s a feast fit for anyone with a pulse.
Tori’s mother explains our options, which are plated in large, shallow bowls and passed around family-style. “We have our version of bacalao, a fish stew. Arroz con pollo, which is rice with chicken and vegetables. Pasteles, which are like tamales but made with plantains and taro vegetables, and finally corn fritters for anyone who doesn’t eat meat. Buen provecho. Enjoy your meal.”
My mother brings her hands together and smiles at Tori’s mom. “Lourdes and Bianca, thanks so much for this wonderful food. I can only hope that Randall’s barbecue skills on Saturday can live up to this.”
“Way to put on the pressure, Susan,” my father says. “With a wife like you, who needs . . .” He’s a smart man
and knows how to avoid a chop across the throat, so he winks at my mother to make clear he’s joking.
The bowl exchange ensues in earnest after we bless the food, only to be interrupted by my father, who stands and raises his water glass in the air. “I also want to welcome the Alvarez family in our lives and in our home. We’re thrilled that Tori and Carter have found each other, and we can’t wait to see what else is in store for them.”
Everyone follows suit, and we clink glasses as we shower the couple with awwws and hear, hears.
Dad clears his throat. “And I just wanted to take a moment to recognize and congratulate Carter on his nomination for a Screen Actors Guild Award. We’re proud of you, Son.”
We raise our glasses higher. Kimberly and I glance at each other, and she rolls her eyes. We love Carter dearly, but there’s no question our parents sometimes forget their two daughters are in the room when our brother’s around.
Across from me, Aunt Carol scoops a spoonful of rice onto her plate. “Ashley, where are you working now?”
She says this in a loud, clear voice, and the smirk that appears on Lydia’s face confirms my suspicion that the question was planned. The chatter around the table continues, but the pounding in my ears deludes me into thinking everyone’s gone quiet and is paying close attention to the exchange.
“I’m working as a flight attendant. Mostly domestic travel, but I’ve had a few international assignments as well.”
She purses her lips as she takes in my answer, reminding me of my high school English lit teacher, the one who looked at the class with disdain and thought the material was well over our heads.
“But don’t you want something with more permanency? A job that’ll keep you in one place?”
Sure, I think about it often. But there isn’t much that captures my interest like my music does, and the odds that I’d be able to make it my career are slim. I’m exploring other possibilities, wisely engaging in due diligence, and that keeps me from panicking about the lack of direction in my life. No way I’m sharing this with Aunt Carol, though. “Permanency isn’t a priority for me these days. There’s plenty of time to settle somewhere. I have an exciting job that allows me to see different places and meet fascinating people.” I turn and smile at Julian. “And a boyfriend who keeps me grounded. Life is good.”
“And Lydia tells me you’re living with Julian?”
“Yep,” I say with a pop of my lips. “See? I’m perfectly capable of making a commitment.”
She pretends not to have heard me. “Speaking of permanency, Lydia received a promotion recently. She’s now the manager of her marketing division.”
Lydia shakes her head, the barest hint of a frown on her face. “Mom, no one wants to hear about that.”
This is the first time I can recall Lydia not wanting to be the center of everyone’s attention. Makes me wonder how much of her personality is attributable to her mother’s conceited ways. I try to paste on a bright smile, wanting desperately for it to be genuine but knowing it isn’t. “That’s great news. Congrats, Lydia.”
“I guess it must be hard,” Aunt Carol says. “Living in the shadow of your siblings.”
I’m not wrong when I say the room’s gone quiet now, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Julian set down his fork and push his plate back.
“Carol,” my mother warns. “Don’t be obnoxious.”
“What?” Carol asks as she helps herself to more food. “I’m just saying. Kimberly was a track star and is now a successful high school coach being wooed by several colleges. Carter’s a Hollywood heartthrob. Shoot. Even I wouldn’t want to be their siblings.”
Julian leans forward, his gaze fixed on Aunt Carol. “Ashley’s perfect just the way she is, and she’s got layers you don’t even know about. Like, she’s a talented musician. Did you know she’s composed over one hundred songs?”
“You have?” Carter asks, the pitch of his voice rising.
“You never told us,” Kimberly says as she cuts Izzy’s meat into small pieces.
“It’s nothing, really,” I say.
Carter clucks his tongue. “But why aren’t you out there trying to make a career of it?”
This is exactly what I wanted to avoid: an inquisition. I know Julian meant well, but telling the family about my music only makes me more defensive. It’s my life, and I get to decide how to live it. “Because maybe it’s just a hobby. Because maybe everything’s not about being the next big whatever. People can be perfectly happy without aspiring to be something more.”
“Well, I think it’s wonderful that you’re still playing guitar,” my father says. “If you enjoy it, how can that be a bad thing?”
“Exactly,” my mother says. “Lourdes and Bianca, this food is amazing.”
Tori’s mother and sister smile proudly.
Tori waves her hand in front of what’s left of the dishes. “And if you’d like the recipes, you can find them all in one place in our upcoming cookbook, Puerto Rico Over Easy. Available for preorder now.”
Lourdes and Bianca shush Tori.
“What?” Tori asks. “Our publicist says we have to get the word out.”
Bianca snorts. “I’m sure the publicist didn’t mean for you to hawk our book at every opportunity.”
Tori bares her teeth in embarrassment. “Was that overkill?”
She cringes at the chorus of yeses and definitelys that follow.
I’m grateful they’re no longer talking about me, but the damage is done. When I’m finished with my meal, I quickly excuse myself. “I’m feeling a little under the weather. I think I’ll head to bed early tonight.”
I rise from my chair, and Julian does the same.
“No, no,” I tell him as I lay a hand on his arm. “Hang out with Carter. Catch up with my dad. I’ll see you later when you . . . um . . . come to bed.”
“You’re sure?” he says, his gaze locked on my face.
I nod. “Yeah.” Impulsively, I bend down and kiss his forehead. “Later.”
He holds my hand until the distance between us forces him to let go.
I know he wants to comfort me. The concern in his eyes tells me so. A part of me wants that from him, but another part of me realizes that an empathetic pat on my back or a squeeze of my shoulder wouldn’t be enough. I need more. Which he won’t give me.
Space it is, then.
Chapter Eighteen
Julian
EVERYONE’S MOVED TO the living room, where Carter, Tori, Eva, and Bianca are playing poker. Beside me on the couch, Carter’s dad describes the grill he’s planning to buy. He even pulls out his phone to show me the model. Titillating stuff.
Lydia and her mother are in a corner chatting, their heads close together. I wouldn’t at all be surprised if they were devising another plan to insult people. They do it to mask their own feelings of inadequacy, and anyone who isn’t Ashley can see it. But she’s probably been their target so often she’s given up on trying to understand their motives. I want to go to her, but I want to give her space, too.
“There are a couple of options,” Randall says as he points to his phone. “See here, this one has a warming rack, but with this one, I can add on a pizza oven. What do you think? Which would you choose?”
“That’s great. Should produce excellent meats.”
Randall chuckles.
“What?” I ask, turning my head to look at him.
“You’re not paying attention, Son. I asked your opinion on—”
Susan calls me to the kitchen before Randall swipes left again, and I jump up to answer her call. “Excuse me, I’m being summoned.”
When I enter, Ashley’s mother motions for me to join her at the table.
I drop onto a chair. “What can I do for you? Need help in here?”
She brings a coffee mug to her lips and takes a sip before she speaks, her eyes never straying from mine. “You’re not having a good time, and I know why.”
I laugh off her comment, unsure where she’
s headed with the observation but sufficiently aware of her skills at uncovering feelings I prefer to keep hidden. “I’m enjoying myself just fine. Don’t worry about me.”
With only the top of her face visible over the cup’s brim, she says, “I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about her. And you are, too.”
I exhale and squint at her. “It’s that obvious?”
“Maybe not to them, but it is to me. I spent a year trying to crack your shell, remember?”
She’s right about that. I came to Weston reluctantly, resentful that my parents had shipped me to boarding school supposedly to broaden my horizons and expand my educational opportunities. Ms. Susan, as I called her then, counseled day school students, but she also served as my host mother, the person entrusted to watch over me while I was away from home. I moped around when I came to visit, and Carter, who was two years my junior, was a pain in the ass who was goofy as hell and wanted me to be the older brother he never had. I wasn’t down with it, until a classmate tried to bully him and my protective instincts kicked in. Slowly, I let the family in, and they’ve become a permanent part of my life.
“I remember.” I grab the back of my neck and raise my face to the ceiling. Ah, who am I kidding? I need to know she’s okay. I stand abruptly. “I’m going to check on her.”
She gives me a full-blown smile. “I was hoping you would.”
I creep from the kitchen to the short hall leading to the front door, but my attempt to leave undetected is thwarted when I collide with Lydia.
“Oh,” she says. “Leaving so soon?”
The best I can come up with is to yawn and stretch my arms wide. Hey, acting isn’t my strong suit, and I never claimed otherwise. “I’m beat. Going to head to bed early.”
She wrings her hands in front of her, opening and closing her mouth a few times. Finally, she drums up the courage to speak. “I liked you, too. She knew that. I just . . . I just wanted you to know.”
I’m not sure what I’m supposed to make of this revelation. Does she want me to think Ash betrayed her by dating me? Is she suggesting that I should be with her instead? Why does she think it’s even remotely appropriate to corner her cousin’s boyfriend and undermine her in this way? “Ashley might not see what’s going on yet, but I do. You’re jealous of her, aren’t you?”