South Beach Love

by Caridad Piñeiro

  “What’s up?” he asked, and Sylvia motioned him to a chair next to her husband. Then she surprised him by sitting next to him and saying, “Angelica and Samantha have something they wish to say to us.”

  “I don’t get it,” Sara said at the same time that Matt asked, “What’s this about?”

  “Amorcito, just wait, por favor,” Dolores said and laid a calming hand on Matt’s arm.

  “Yes, be patient, Matt,” Bridget echoed and shot her older brother a glare.

  At least he wasn’t the only one not in the loop, evidently.

  Angelica and Samantha rose almost in unison and walked to the head of the table where they stood side-by-side. After a nervous glance between them, Samantha said, “There was a fire at the yacht club where we were supposed to have my quinceañera and we won’t be able to have it there.”

  Matt jumped in, a muscle angrily jumping across his strong jaw. “Honey, that’s not something to bother the Sanchezes with. Your mom and I told you we would work something out.”

  Samantha nodded. “I know that, papi, and I really appreciate all that you’ve done so we could have the quinceañera.”

  “What’s the issue then? You don’t trust us to do it?” Matt blustered, obviously upset and possibly shamed by having the family’s dirty laundry aired.

  Once again Dolores chimed in. “Matt, por favor. Let the girls finish.”

  “Fine. Go ahead,” he said and locked his arms across his chest, in defensive mode.

  Samantha dared a quick look in Angelica’s direction who took up the baton and spoke.

  “Samantha and I talked yesterday after practice. We had a lot of the same people invited to both parties, they were only supposed to be a day apart anyway, and there’s space in the hotel ballroom for additional people.”

  Tony was hearing it, but he wasn’t quite believing it. Were these two girls, who according to his sister had been rivals for everything, proposing a joint party? He was about to question them, but Sara beat him to the punch.

  “You’re saying you want to have one party for both of you?” Sara asked, clearly as confused as he was.

  The two girls shared a look, nodded, and simultaneously said, “Yes.”

  A drawn-out silence followed until Bridget broke it. “Are you sure?”

  Samantha nodded. “It makes sense. Both families will save money. You can put the money you save aside for our college funds. Maybe you can even give part of it as a donation to Aunt Bridget’s non-profit.”

  “That’s very generous of you girls to suggest, but not necessary,” Bridget said.

  “But what about your themes? The menus?” Sara asked, her brain apparently working much along the same lines as Tony’s, since he’d been wondering the same things.

  “It’s a perfect mix,” Angelica said and clapped her hands together. “The old meets the new!”

  Samantha jumped in excitedly. “And we know how important the article is to both you and Angelica’s Uncle Tony, so we thought you could do a four-course menu and have each of you do two dishes.”

  “How will we decide who does what course?” Tony asked, his mind already calculating the changes he’d have to make both in terms of the courses and the number of people who would have to be fed.

  Both girls hesitated again, but then Samantha blurted out, “We can flip a coin to decide.”

  “I guess there’s not much else to discuss, is there?” Tony said. As he glanced around the table, it seemed clear that everyone was onboard with what the two teens had proposed. Everyone except possibly Sara who looked as concerned as he was. Make that three people because Matt Kelly didn’t look too pleased either.

  But for his part, Tony would go along with whatever his sister and niece wanted because as Sara had said the other day, their primary concern all along should have been the girls and their quinceañeras. Not to mention, he hoped that the next several days in the kitchen with Sara would keep moving things in the right direction.

  “You’re kidding me, right?” Jeri said as she and Sara walked around the kitchen the next day. It was a tradition in Munch for them to take this walk to make sure all the line chefs were at work on their respective parts of that day’s menu. Satisfied that all was in order, she finally gave her attention to her partner.

  “I’m not kidding. It’s a good solution for the girls. Very adult of them,” she said despite the turmoil she was feeling. She looked forward to working with Tony, but it would still be difficult to be in competition with him at the same time.

  “Maybe for them, but how about for you?” Jeri said as they returned to the station they shared for the final plating of all the dishes.

  “I’ll survive,” she said and sighed. Or at least I hope so.

  “A coin toss, huh? When do you plan on doing that?” Jeri said as she did a last check of their station for what they would need to finish the orders.

  Sara shot a quick look at her watch. “He should be here soon. We’ll do the flip and tomorrow we’ll talk about the dishes we plan to make and do any necessary adjustments.”

  A tap came on the glass door of the restaurant.

  Tony had arrived.

  “This shouldn’t take long,” Sara said and walked over to let Tony in. She unlocked the door and after he had entered, locked it up again. Lunch service wasn’t set to begin for another hour so that gave them plenty of time, not that they’d need it for something as simple as a coin toss.

  They stood there, hesitant. Seeing him reminded her of how nice it had been the other day, enjoying the ride over the waves and after. That almost moment. There was something about having him around that just made her feel… She didn’t want to say “whole” because she didn’t think any woman needed a man to complete her. But she did feel comforted. Excited. Steady. Unsteady.

  “Sara?” Tony said at her prolonged silence.

  “How do you feel about this?” she said.

  Tony hesitated, walked over to the first free table, and gestured to it as if to ask if it was okay for him to sit.

  With a nod and a wave of her hand, she confirmed it and joined him there. He held out his hands, palm up, and as she had just days earlier, she slipped her hands into his. Warm. Smooth and rough at the same time, much like their relationship so far.

  He squeezed her hands and offered up a crooked smile. “You know I want there to be an us. We just have to get through this competition.”

  Her heart sped up a beat, because she was beginning to believe. “We were moving in the right direction. And if the girls can set aside their differences –”

  “—we can too. We just have to focus on the girls and their quinceañeras for now. Make a truce so that reporter doesn’t have more gossip for her story.”

  “Agreed. As for the competition to be featured, we’ll find a way to keep things from getting out of hand,” she said.

  “Agreed,” he said. Then he released her hands to reach into his pocket, take out a quarter, and place it on the tabletop. “You probably want to check it to see if it’s legit.”

  She put her hand up and smiled. “No need. I trust you.”

  “Ladies first,” he said and motioned to the quarter.

  She picked up the coin, jiggled it in her hand, and as she tossed it in the air, she said, “Heads.”

  The quarter landed in her palm and she flipped it over onto the top of her hand to reveal the flip. “Tails,” she said, dejected since she had no doubt which course Tony would choose as his first pick.

  With a nod, Tony said, “I’ll do the entrée.” He held his hand out for the coin, took it, and did the second flip. He kept his hand over the coin until Sara hesitantly said, “I’m sticking to heads.”

  He pulled his hand away to show George Washington’s face gleaming on the quarter.

  “I’ll take the appetizer,” Sara said.

 
They repeated the coin toss with Sara winning the next flip and choosing the dessert course, leaving Tony to do the salad.

  “I guess it’s settled,” Tony said and went to rise, but she stopped him.

  “Not quite. I want Jeri and my people in the kitchen for my courses,” she said.

  With a lift of his broad shoulders, he said, “I’m sure that can be arranged. Not to mention that it would be good for South Beach Style to see them in action.”

  It was thoughtful of him to realize that. “Thank you.”

  “I know how important this still is. Somehow we’ll figure it out, Sara,” he said, and then he cupped her cheek. Ran his finger across it in a gentle caress. “You know that, right?”

  “We will figure it out,” she said.

  He nodded and smiled. “Good. Once you’ve had a chance to think about your part of the menu and any changes to what you’d planned, we can meet again and see whether the courses are a good fit. Finalize a list of supplies we’ll need,” he said, his tone and manner welcoming and friendly, but also professional.

  Encouraged about the continuing change in their relationship and what it might mean for them personally, she said, “That sounds like a plan. I should be set to go in a day or so. Call me when you’re ready.”

  She rose and walked to the door to unlock it.

  He followed her and walked out, but then stopped and faced her. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Sara.”

  And then he was gone, heading off in the direction of Lincoln Road.

  “I’m looking forward to it also,” she murmured and couldn’t keep from doing a little happy dance. Things were looking so much better than they had just a few days earlier. Sara wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity not only to cook the best possible food for their nieces, but to keep her relationship with Tony moving in a positive direction because...

  She cared for him, maybe more than she should. That take-charge streak in her said to grab this opportunity—and Tony—with both hands.

  Chapter 22

  Worry built inside Roberta Lane as she read the e-mail from Sylvia Rodriguez advising her about the change in plans for the quinceañera parties. Her editor would not be happy, but the one thing that might keep him from totally flipping out was the fact that the two chefs would still be competing by preparing the different courses for the meal.

  She’d remind him of that…via email. Not in person. She wasn’t normally a coward, but she wasn’t ready to deal with Marco just yet. She forwarded him the email and grabbed her purse, hoping to make an escape when he barged into her office.

  “This isn’t good,” her editor said as he walked in, coffee cup and Cuban toast in hand. He sat before her desk; his brow furrowed. A glower covered his face.

  “Isn’t it?” she said, hoping to head off his anger over the change. “The girls have apparently gotten over their drama and are even donating a portion of the monies originally set aside for the party to Bridget Kelly’s non-profit. This is a whole new angle for the story. People love feel-good stories.”

  “People love gossip and rivalries more,” her editor said with a pout, took a sip of his coffee, and pointed to her with the coffee cup. “Run with what you have and make it a good story.”

  He rushed out of her office and she picked up her phone and dialed Tony Sanchez, but her call went straight to voice mail. “Hello, Tony. This is Roberta Lane. I just got the news about the quinceañera party and it’s so wonderful. I’d love to chat with you about how that changes your plans. Please call me back as soon as you can.”

  She ended the call and immediately dialed Sara Kelly. When her phone likewise went straight to voice mail, she left her a similar message.

  They were both avoiding her, and she could understand why, but they couldn’t do it forever. Especially since she’d be attending the event to do follow-up interviews with everyone and to get more photos for the magazine.

  Maybe then she could apologize to them for what she’d done. She hoped that would be enough to allay the guilt that she had been feeling over how the story had gone. Luckily, this new twist had things moving in a positive direction and she intended to showcase that.

  Facing her computer, she sat down to write up some nicer, more positive tweets and a short article about the new quinceañera celebration that would be happening.

  Thankfully, Dolores’s kitchen didn’t have the feel of a demilitarized zone considering the interactions that he and Sara had had over the last few days. Sara and he had met there to prepare the various dishes for the event so that both the Kelly and Rodriguez families could try them before they finalized the menu. It was also convenient because Dolores had been furiously working on Angelica’s gown and it was ready for a first fitting.

  Tony could hear the women in the other room, chatting about the dress and the party as he took his porchetta roast from the oven.

  Beside him Sara was cooking her own pot of white rice as well as picadillo, a Cuban staple made with ground beef, onions, peppers, green olives, raisins, and a light tomato sauce.

  “That smells great,” he said, and his stomach rumbled. Picadillo was one of his favorite dishes and he could picture the two of them sitting to eat it together, cooking together in the future the way they were now.

  Sara seemed pleased by the praise and said, “Your pork smells heavenly also.”

  “Thanks. I need to go outside and crank up the grill for the salad.”

  That drew a little chuckle from her. “Grill and salad are not two things most people put together.”

  He winked at her. “I’m not most people.”

  He hurried outside, turned on the gas grill, and in no time, he was back in the kitchen preparing the avocados for cooking.

  Sara had her head in the refrigerator, checking on the desserts she had prepared earlier and brought over. “Almost set,” she said and returned to stirring the picadillo, but then shut the gas beneath the pan.

  “Interested in watching me grill?” he said and juggled handfuls of avocados.

  “Sure. Let me help,” she said and took some of the avocado halves from him.

  Once they were outside, Tony popped up the top of the grill and held his hand above the ranges. “Temperature is just right. We’re good to go.”

  He placed his halves on the grill and Sara did the same. They stood there, watching the fruit grill until Sara said, “Roberta Lane called me. I ignored the call. I’ve also been avoiding her social media.”

  Tony looked at her from the corner of his eye. “She called me too and I ignored her as well. I’m off social media for now.”

  Sara met his gaze. “You know she won’t give up, right?”

  He shrugged and picked up one avocado to check. Still not enough grill marks. “We’ll just have to keep things calm and not give her anything to write about.”

  Sara looked back toward the house. “I haven’t told them about our truce, have you?”

  Tony shook his head. “No. I want to keep what’s happening between us to us, don’t you?”

  Sara nodded. “I do. We’ve had enough interference in our relationship.”

  Tony smiled. “Our relationship. I like the sound of that,” he said, reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist to draw her close.

  Sara’s nose crinkled and she leaned into him. “I like the sound of it too.”

  “Is it my imagination or do they look happy?” Angelica said as she caught sight of Tony and Sara in the backyard from the window in Dolores’s workroom.

  Samantha walked to the window and peeked out. “Are they hugging?”

  “They are. We were hoping that having to cook together might make things right between them. Looks like it’s working,” Angelica said and slipped out of the gown, careful to avoid the pins Dolores had used for fitting the dress.

  Samantha made a face. “But are
they really cooking together? Maybe we shouldn’t have made that stupid suggestion that they split the courses as part of the contest.”

  “Maybe,” Angelica said and grabbed hold of the top and jeans Samantha handed her. After she dressed, she said, “We don’t have anything for the cocktail hour. What if we ask them to do those together?”

  “And what if the dishes they cook for us aren’t all that good—or we say they aren’t? We can ask them to fix them. Together,” Samantha said. “You know, like it’s too fatty and not well-balanced. I’ve watched a ton of those cooking shows. I bet I can fake it.”

  “Me, too. I love watching cooking shows. Especially the ones where they give you all kinds of weird ingredients.”

  Samantha made another face. “Like crickets. Who eats crickets!”

  Angelica laughed. “Major yuk.”

  “Niñas, your papis are here. Come on out when you’re ready,” Samantha’s mom called out from the kitchen.

  Angelica and Samantha shared a look. “I’m ready to do this. Are you?”

  Samantha laughed and made a slicing motion with her hand. “I think two chefs are going to get chopped tonight!”

  “Chica, this picadillo is delicious,” Dolores said and covered her mouth with her hand as she talked around the bite she had taken.

  “Wonderful. Better than Sylvia’s,” Esteban said, earning a playful elbow from his wife.

  “I don’t know. There’s something missing,” Samantha said, shocking everyone into silence, especially Sara. She thought she had executed Dolores’s family recipe faithfully even if she had added her own little twist with some extra paprika.

  “Aren’t you making rice, too, Tio Tony?” Angelica said and eyed her uncle.

  “I am,” he said with a nod.

  “Isn’t that too much of the same thing?” Angelica said while she shoveled another forkful of the picadillo into her mouth.