A Delicious Dilemma

by Sera Taíno

  Étienne was merciless. “Don’t hold out on me, Frater. Is that all you did?”

  Philip nearly growled at his friend. “I spent a chaste night being fed the most delicious sweets and then came home like a perfect gentleman.”

  “Eh-eh-eh,” Étienne said. “You are a romantic, pure and simple. Do not deny it.”

  An unfamiliar flood of heat raced over Philip’s skin. He couldn’t be blushing, could he?

  “So, are you going to see her again?” Étienne asked.

  “We have a date for Saturday.”

  “A second date? For you, that is practically a relationship!”

  Philip changed tack, hoping to sound casual and failing miserably, even to his own ears. “So, uh, what do you know about Val?”

  “My lovestruck friend!” Etienne laughed. “I’m sorry to say I don’t know very much at all about her, but I can ask Malena. She did insinuate something that she’d heard from...well, you get my drift. I am sharing gossip, so if you want reliable information, you will have to get the real story from your girl.”

  Warmth and a tinge of something possessive spread through him at Étienne’s reference to Val as his girl. “Tell me.”

  Étienne chuckled. “So impatient, Frater? I think I’m enjoying this.”

  “Étienne...”

  “Only that her last relationship did not end well.”

  “That I know.”

  “Do you, now? You must have shared many confidences.” Étienne’s voice dropped, low and suggestive. “Malena thinks very highly of Val—everyone does, it seems.” Étienne paused, but Philip knew more was coming. “But that business with her ex was beyond mortifying. She’s not one to be trifled with.”

  “I don’t intend to,” Philip retorted.

  “Not everyone can be like me,” his friend continued, and Philip prepared himself for the requisite self-aggrandizement that always accompanied a conversation with Étienne. “All my ex-lovers are still in contact with me and consider me their friend. Except for Serrano, but he is a special case that we shall not talk about.”

  Philip snorted. He remembered Serrano and the drama of that breakup.

  “There’s this thing, though,” Philip said when their laughter subsided. “She doesn’t know who I am yet.”

  “What do you mean? She knows your name.”

  “She knows my name is Philip, some dude with an Alpha Romeo who likes cake in the middle of the night. But she doesn’t know I’m Philip Wagner, only son of Andreas Wagner of Wagner Developments.”

  “Well, it’s not like you’re Bruce Wayne. Just tell her who you are. What does it matter?”

  “It matters, because she thinks my father’s company is hell-bent on destroying her neighborhood and she hates us.”

  “Did she say so?”

  “Oh, yeah. She treated me to an earful about it.”

  Étienne paused before asking, “But how does that affect her? Besides in the philosophical sense.”

  “She co-owns Navarro’s with her father. The restaurant leases the space from the building owners. It’s one of the properties my father’s after.”

  Étienne gave a long whistle. “Oh, that’s not good at all.”

  “No, it isn’t. Her building is one of the last holdouts, and the acquisitions department has been putting a lot of pressure on the owners to sell. Let’s just say, if she could set Wagner Developments on fire, she probably would.”

  “But my friend, you’ve got to come clean. Tell her the truth.”

  “I know.” Philip sighed and sank down into his office chair, melting into a mound of dejection. “But I like her.”

  Étienne’s voice softened. “All the more reason why you have to speak up. My mother always says, lies have short legs. Even though I don’t know Val, she probably won’t take any kind of dishonesty well, if her history is any indication.”

  “You mean that ex.”

  “The very same.”

  Philip’s heart sank. “I was thinking of telling her this weekend.”

  “A good time to man up, Frater. You’ve got to tell her and take responsibility, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” Philip answered. “Thanks, man.”

  There was a rustling on Étienne’s side and Philip wondered if the man was still in bed, which would only add insult to injury. “It is already getting late. Order dinner instead. I will bring the beer and we can watch the soccer match at your place, wi, Frater?”

  The dinging of the elevator beyond Philip’s office, together with the slow dissipation of conversation, signified that his father and his investor group were finally gone. “Fine. I’ll see you in about an hour.”

  “Eh, maybe a bit longer.”

  “Right, because you should at least put your pants on.”

  Étienne’s laughter was crisp and pure as sunlight. “I’m not a monk like you.”

  “I’m not a monk anymore. I spent a whole night with a woman.”

  “Eating cake. If you are not careful, you might scandalize the Pope with that behavior. But only the Pope.”

  Philip ended the call and spun slowly in his chair to face the window behind him. His office looked out over the Manhattan skyline. Small ferryboats crossed and recrossed the river below, while people the size of moving beads lingered on the boardwalk or sped to work in cartoon-sized cars. Alone, on the twentieth floor of the Wagner Building, Philip gave in to his thoughts of Val, which hovered beneath the surface of his preoccupations, an oasis in a desert of calculations and cost analysis.

  Philip had good instincts about people. It seemed as though all the things that might make him attractive to someone—his position or his wealth—would matter very little to her. But this situation with his company and the work they were doing in East Ward mattered to her. She had principles.

  The same principles that would disqualify him as a potential lover were the very ones that made her irresistible to him. His better instincts should be driving him, the ones that told him to leave her alone, not complicate his project, or her life, by getting involved with her. He really should just cancel the date and delete her number.

  But something about Val made him greedy. He liked being around her and wanted to get to know her. But her not knowing who he was would rob her of the opportunity to choose to know him, as well, and that didn’t sit right with him. He always faulted his father for his attitude of taking whatever he wanted, consequences be damned. Yet he risked doing the exact same thing with Val.

  Lies had short legs, and this one could easily get away from him.

  Chapter Five

  Tonight’s meeting was packed with residents of the Victoria. The chime of the restaurant’s front doorbell tinkled over and over until Val finally took it down so it wouldn’t interrupt her as she spoke.

  “The company has ignored our petitions so far,” she began, making sure to pause as Rafi translated. “We are organizing a demonstration outside company headquarters and inviting as many residents as possible to come and make their voices heard. There are extra flyers at the door. Please, take them on your way out and give them to friends and family.”

  After sharing further updates, Val directed tenants to stations set up throughout the restaurant. Felicia Morales had brought four of her colleagues to consult with residents after the session about their specific situations. Val sat next to Felicia, absorbing the conversations, which were variations on the same theme.

  “They raised the rent by twenty percent this year and promised another twenty percent hike next year. I live on my husband’s military pension. I’ve been in my apartment for forty years. How am I supposed to pay the new rent?” Señora Batista, an elderly widow, complained.

  Val’s blood boiled. She’d played with Señora Batista’s grandchildren when she was growing up and spent countless afternoons in the Batista home, dunking toasted Puerto Rican
bread slathered with butter and cheese into thick hot chocolate. The widow ran the real danger of eviction from the only home she’d ever known.

  Felicia pulled out a business card and handed it to the elderly woman. “Here is an agency that specializes in advocating for veterans and their families. I’d reach out to them.”

  She thanked Felicia before leaving.

  “It’s not fair,” Val blurted out, giving vent to her increasing frustration. “She shouldn’t have to go anywhere at her age. She’s been in her apartment since forever.”

  Felicia placed a warm hand over Val’s. “I know, Val. But don’t get worked up. Use your anger to effect change. Because you’ve been so vocal about what’s been happening, people respect you and your family. That’s a responsibility. Be cool, and it will help others keep their cool, also. As the host, they will take their cues from you.”

  “So, no keying people’s cars? Trashing their offices?”

  Felicia laughed. “No car-keying or office-trashing, young lady.”

  “You’re no fun.”

  Val scanned the familiar faces in her restaurant, each person telling a different story that intersected with her own life. They were her stability, her comfort. After her mother’s death, she’d lost all faith in the permanence of things—if you could lose your mother in the space of a single moment, what hope could there be to hold on to anything? These were her people and they had never let her down.

  Val’s thoughts scattered when her father’s friends and the owners of their building, Benito and Eunice Gutierrez, approached. The Gutierrez family had been residents of East Ward long before Val’s parents arrived from Puerto Rico. They were Dominican and had taught Val how to make mangú and pastellón when Val was still in middle school. The Navarros and Gutierrezes had a stronger relationship than just tenant and landlord—they considered each other family.

  Eunice pulled Val against her matronly body. “Hola, mi niña,” Eunice said, leaning back to pat both of Val’s cheeks with her large, calloused hands that smelled of lemon and cumin powder.

  Val got up to let the older couple slide into her spot. She pulled a chair over from a vacant table to sit at Eunice’s elbow.

  “This is Felicia Morales. You remember—she was at the last meeting.”

  “Sí.” Eunice smiled at Felicia, while Benito shook her hand. “I’m so glad you’re here. We wanted to talk to you.”

  Val reached up and caressed the crucifix between her thumb and forefinger. “Is everything okay?”

  Benito looked at his hands as Eunice spoke. “You remember that conversation in the restaurant the other day, mijita?”

  “Of course,” Val answered. Eunice and Benito had shown Val and her father the letters they’d been receiving from Wagner Developments.

  “They made us a very good offer and we decided we want to sell the building.”

  Val’s shoulders slumped. Buildings were bought and sold all the time while the businesses renting from them stayed put. However, selling out to Wagner Developments meant the space Navarro’s occupied, as well as their apartment, would be owned by a development company that had already demonstrated their lack of interest in the well-being of their occupants when they bought the Victoria.

  “Manuel and Emma are hoping we can sell quickly. They want to move out of the city before our granddaughter starts kindergarten this year and we want to go with them.” Eunice continued.

  Val patted the older woman’s arm. “It’s natural that your son would want to raise his family in a quieter place. In the end, it’s your property. You have to do what’s best for your family.” Inside, Val screamed until her brain hurt.

  “But you’re here to ask my advice, aren’t you?” Felicia asked.

  Benito pulled letters from a file folder. “We wanted to know if there was a legal way to sell the building while making sure they don’t evict anyone.”

  Felicia shook her head. “Nothing in place right now keeps the company from doing whatever they want once they own the property.”

  “Criminals,” Val muttered.

  “There’s nothing we can do?” Benito asked, distressed.

  “It’s why we filed a complaint with the city. Your experience matters,” Felicia said. “When we meet with the council, we’ll use the collective experiences of the community to get them to give us those protections.”

  Eunice held Benito’s hand. “I’m so sorry, Valeria,” she said, sniffling tearfully. “Manuel and his wife don’t want to raise their family here and we want to be near the grandchildren.”

  “There’s nothing to apologize for. Do you still want to talk to Papi, or do you want me to tell him?” Val inclined her head toward her father, who was now sitting at a table, talking with a group of old friends.

  “We will speak to him,” Benito said, getting to his feet and helping Eunice stand. Val scrambled out of her chair to hold Eunice’s elbow on the other side.

  “We’ll have some more of your cookies. They are so good.” Eunice paused, taking Val’s face in both her hands again, a habit she’d taken up when Val was a girl.

  “You are just like your mother. Una mujer en pies.” A woman with her feet on the ground. Eunice gave her a kiss on the forehead. “She would be so proud of all of you. Always a positive example to your brother and sister.” She released Val’s face. “I wish Gabriela had lived to see what a wonderful girl you turned out to be.”

  “Gracias.” Val smiled, though it was hard to keep it in place at the mention of her mother. She hugged Eunice close, willing herself not to cry.

  They said goodbye to Felicia and walked away. Val slumped onto her seat and was soon joined at the table by Rafi and Nati.

  “Well, that sucked,” Val said as soon as the Gutierrezes were out of earshot.

  “What happened?” Rafi asked.

  Felicia filled them in. Rafi’s and Nati’s faces slowly went from rapt attention to horror.

  “No,” Nati whispered.

  “It doesn’t have to be the end of Navarro’s,” Felicia said. “It’s not in the developer’s best interest to get rid of every business in a development zone.”

  “That’s what these guys did in Wagner Financial Place. All the mom-and-pop stores are gone,” Rafi said, his own voice shaking.

  “Poor Papi,” Nati whispered. “This is his life’s work. His and Mami’s.”

  Val drummed her fingers against the tabletop. “You’re almost done with school, too. If I could just get you to your graduation—”

  “Why don’t you guys buy the building?” Felicia interjected. “I always wondered why you didn’t own the place by now.”

  Val stopped tapping the table. “I always wondered that, too. Why didn’t Mami and Papi buy the building outright at some point?”

  Rafi shook his head. “I don’t know.” She stared at Rafi, and she knew their minds were spinning in the same direction.

  “You’re serious,” Nati said, her tone of disbelief fading as the possibilities dawned on her.

  Val could barely sit still. “I’ll call Papi over.”

  “If you’ll excuse me—” Felicia stood “—I’ll let you guys talk this one out. If you need any help getting in touch with a mortgage officer, let me know.” Felicia made her way to a group at another booth. Val was out of her seat, winding her way behind the counter, where her father was saying goodbye to the Gutierrezes.

  “Con permiso. Papi. Do you have a minute?”

  “Como no, I’m going to need a seat after that conversation.” he said.

  “So they told you?”

  Papi’s face was serious. “Unfortunately.”

  He followed Val to the booth where Nati and Rafi were huddled together in deep discussion.

  Rafi pulled a chair over for his father. “Siéntate. Val has a question for you.”

  Val glared at Rafi. “Rea
lly?”

  “You’re the eldest,” he sang.

  “Pues, pregúntame. You can ask me anything,” her father said as he took the proffered chair.

  Val cleared her throat, giving her siblings a pointed look. “We were wondering—why didn’t you and Mom buy this building when you first came from Puerto Rico? The Gutierrezes were still renting at the time.”

  Papi’s eyes crinkled the way they always did when they asked him about the past. He loved to talk about when he and Gabriela moved to the mainland, all the hopes and dreams they’d carried with them. “You remember how I told you that my family had a lot of property and used to be rich? We raised all native crops, especially plátanos and yuca.”

  “And you left because the agricultural economy collapsed and your father had to sell everything.”

  “Sí. He divided the inheritance in three parts—one for my parents, one for me, one for my brother. We came to the mainland with that money and put it all in the restaurant.”

  “There was no chance of buying the building at all?” Rafi asked.

  “¡Muchacho, no!” He chuckled. “We barely had enough money to start up the restaurant. By the time we could buy it, the Gutierrezes had bought it, and they weren’t letting it go. They raised a family in this building.” He shook his head. “I was surprised when they told me just now that they were going to sell it. This would have kept them all the way through retirement.”

  “Por ese mangansón de Miguel,” Val spat. That ruffian of a son, Miguel, who couldn’t see past his own interests. Val had never liked him. “He’s the reason they’re selling.”

  “Why are you asking me all this?” Papi asked, his eyes flitting toward Nati, who gave him the most ridiculous smile Val had ever seen.

  “What do you think if we buy the building from the Gutierrezes?” Val asked.

  Papi opened his mouth to speak, then closed it quickly. He glanced at Rafi, who held his hand as if in prayer, and Nati, whose excitement made her look like a bobblehead.

  “It’s possible,” he answered. “But you know how I feel about debt.”

  She squeezed his hand. “Papi, we should try. Rafi—” she turned her head to take in her brother’s giddy expression “—you’re the math guy. Do your magical math thing.”