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

heels—“she’ll be my height.”
    “But you’re—” He flailed his arms around and looked me up and down. “—and she’s—”
    “All set to go dancing Tuesday night,” I finished.
    Mami went back to the tortillas. “How do you know this girl?”
    I tore off a piece of hot tortilla and folded it into my mouth. “She works for Manny.”
    Her face softened. She might hate my job, and Manny might be my boss and divorced, but he was wickedly handsome, presumably Catholic, and
Mexicano
. And that was just too much of a good thing. “Now, there is a man you could marry.”
    “Mami, he’s my boss. And we’re not talking about me. We’re talking about Tonio going out with Reilly.”
    She gave a curt nod, a smile tickling the corner of her mouth. “I will make
mole
for Jack,” she said, “and Dolores will help me.”
    Her voice was terse and a little threatening as she turned to Antonio. “And you will see this friend—
¿cómo se llama?
—Reilly.” She waved her spoon again like a magic wand.
“Punto.”
    And as if the word of God had been spoken, that was that.

 
     

Chapter 4
     
     
    T he pounding on my bedroom door jolted me awake. I jumped out of my bed, my muscles tightening as I cocked my arms and curled my fingers. For a second I thought I’d dreamed it, but the banging started again.
    “Lola! Wake up!”
    “What?” I demanded, shaking away the sleep. “Who’s there?”
    “It’s Chely.”
    I slapped my forehead and fell back onto my bed, ignoring Salsa’s garbled protest at her interrupted sleep. The day before flooded back into my mind: Manny,
Tomb Raider
girl, the ex-wife, Emily Diggs, Jack at the Forty-niner, Sunday dinner, Tonio’s going out with Reilly… . What would today bring?
    I closed my eyes and drifted off again… .
    More pounding. “Lola!”
    I shoved the covers off, stumbled across the room, and flung open the door. “It’s too early for this,” I said, frowning at her.
    “You have to stop her.” Chely was frantic, panic in her voice. “She’s ruining my life with this
quinceañera
.” She darted a glance at my pajamas. “Cute boxers, but the shirt’s kinda thin.”
    I ignored her fourteen-year-old assessment of my pj’s. “Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic? A
quinceañera
can’t ruin your life.” But as I rubbed my eyes, I reconsidered. Knowing my aunt, it probably could be destructive. I’d barely made it through the whole rite-of-passage thing, and my mom had been relatively sane.
    The delectable smell of dark roast percolating from the kitchen caught my attention. I followed the scent like a zombie. Chely padded behind me, Salsa trotting behind her. If we had Gloria Estefan playing in the background, we could have started our own conga line.
    I talked to Chely over my shoulder. “You wanted this, remember? For what it’s costing, you could have gone for braces.”
    She shrieked in my ear. “You think I need braces?”
    I smacked my forehead and spun around to face her. “Your teeth are fine, Chely. It was a joke.” Obviously not a good one, but still…
    She bared her teeth at me. “Are you sure?”
    “Yes, I’m sure. They’re perfect. Now, what’s today’s drama with the party?”
    “My mom wants it powder blue and baby pink!” she wailed. “And your mom, like, isn’t helping. She actually
suggested
butterflies and clouds. Or worse, hearts. Can you believe it?
Butterflies, clouds, and hearts.
I’ll never be able to show my face at school again.” She buried her face in her hands and wailed louder. “My life is over.”
    Butterflies, clouds, and hearts sounded exactly like what my traditional mother and her even more traditional sister would suggest. My shoulders slumped slightly. My heart went out to my cousin. I started toward the kitchen again, desperate for coffee. “I’ll talk to them, but I can’t promise—”
    I stopped short at the living room. Men’s laughter and guitar strains? At this hour?