Melissa Bourbon Ramirez - Lola Cruz 01 - Living the Vida Lola by Melissa Bourbon Ramirez Page A

give up the fight. Only Gracie was safe, bless her perfect heart.
    “Hey, Lola.” Antonio grinned at me.
    That Cheshire cat smile. Oooh, I knew immediately that he was up to something. “Hey,” I said.
    I picked up my bag and started to back out again—for real, this time. My mother could lecture me about my career and my cousin’s
quinceañera
tomorrow.
    Antonio spoke to our mother, but he looked at me. “Mami, I heard from an old high school friend just now. Jack Callaghan. You remember him?”
    The hair on my neck stood up. Had Jack called Antonio the second I left the bar?
    “
Por supuesto. El guapo
. Of course I remember.” She moved to the counter, picked up a ball of tortilla dough, and slapped it between her hands, flattening it into a puffy disk.
    Antonio drew out his next sentence. “I invited him here for dinner Sunday.”
    “What?” I wiggled my finger in my ear. Surely I hadn’t heard right. “He’s a
mujeriego,
remember, Mami? Always looking for a new woman.” And after seeing him again tonight after so many years, I was pretty sure I’d welcome the opportunity to be one of those women, given enough time.
    “I am certain that he has grown up, just like Antonio.”
    I held back my laugh. My brother hadn’t grown up. He was still looking for a good time and not much else. There was no reason to think Jack wasn’t still exactly the same. “No way,” I said. “He can’t come here.”
    My mother threw down her tortilla dough and gaped at me. “No way?
Dolores Falcón Cruz.
What manners are these?”
    Ah shit. Pissing my mother off was not the way to keep my tummy full.
    “We will not turn away a friend at our door,” Mami said.She picked up her dough again. I grimaced at her strength—I suspected that she wished it was my head she was slapping between her palms. “I raised you better than that.”
    I reconsidered. If we had dinner with Jack, maybe I’d come up with some more questions to ask him about Emily Diggs. Okay, that was an excuse. I
wanted
to see him again. I couldn’t deny it. “You’re right. You raised me better than that.”
    She slapped another ball of tortilla dough. “He is your brother’s frie—” she stopped. “What did you say?”
    I smiled to myself. God, it was good to throw her off every now and then. “I said you were right.”
    Antonio grinned. “Great. He said he misses your cooking, Mami.”
    If it hadn’t already been a done deal, that statement would have carved it in stone. Appealing to Mami’s culinary pride—checkmate.
    “He will come to Sunday dinner.” My mother squared her shoulders and waved her hand out toward Antonio.
“Punto.”
    I heaved a sigh. She was being so melodramatic, even though I’d already given in. Hospitality was the cornerstone of her existence. Magdalena Cruz lived for visitors, and her kitchen had a revolving door.
    I had a sudden thought. “It
is
too bad that Antonio can’t find a good woman, what with the goatee and all… .” I trailed off, mirroring Antonio’s Cheshire cat grin.
    “Whatever it is, Lola,” he said, peering at me, “the answer’s no.”
    Mami looked from him to me. Years of experience had taught her how this worked. “The answer to what is no?”
    “I have a friend who has a crush on Tonio.” I spoke pointedly. “A really
nice
girl, Mami. A
secretary.
”
    Her face softened as she pondered this. “A secretary. Ah,much better I think than the—how do you say?—Hooter girl you bring home last month.”
    Antonio scowled at me. “I
liked
the Hooter girl.”
    “I know!” I exclaimed, smiling at my brother. Sweet revenge. My mother had my back now, so I went for the jugular. “Me, you—and Reilly. We should go out.”
    Antonio backed away. “No way, Lola. Not that girl from Camacho’s. She’s—” He looked at Mami. “—short.”
    I cocked an eyebrow at him and smirked.
You can’t talk your way out of this one,
hermano. “If she wears high heels”—really, really high