Valentina pulled Pia’s hair, causing Pia to let out a scream. Pia raced after Valentina, almost knocking to the ground Carolina, who tripped on Victoria.
Damn, Carolina really wanted to move out.
Carolina returned to the kitchen and caught a glimpse of the fresh handmade tortillas in the corner of the bench, right next to the salsas. Made from scratch, of course.
“One day, you need to learn how to cook, mija,” her mamá said, following her gaze.
“Nah, I’ll just eat.” A chef, Carolina would never be. There was a reason DoorDash was so popular. Takeout and Mamá’s leftovers suited her just fine.
Mamá shook her head. “Then you will never find a husband.”
“Fine by me,” Carolina said, aware her words would provoke a reaction. The crinkled brow on Mamá’s face turned into a scowl.Carolina threw in a sprinkle of hope with a grin. “Maybe I’ll find a man who cooks for me.”
“Do you want to send your father to an early grave?” Her mother made the sign of the cross and clasped her hands in prayer.
That was another reason Carolina never wanted to get married. What if her husband wanted her to be like her mother? Or, most likely, if he was raised in a similar Mexican household, likehismother? She would be expected to give up her career and cook and clean all day and raise babies, which at the moment, she wasn’t even sure she wanted. She was practically a mother already, after helping to raise her sisters.
No, Carolina certainly didn’t want that life and didn’t want that type of man.
But Enrique didn’t seem to be like that at all. Though it was probably just a front because he wantedsomethingfrom her, he had seemed kind and respectful.
Where had that thought come from? It didn’t matter how sweet he was, or how sexy he looked in that short-sleeved ocean-blue button-up shirt and his navy slacks. Or that his hair was dark and shiny, and his eyes were soulful. This man was just visiting Santa Barbara for the holidays—Montecito, in fact! He probably had a multimillion-dollar home there.
Ugh, why was she even stressing about him? All that mattered was, thanks to a handsome stranger, she would have a partner for Las Posadas. She couldn’t be more blessed.
Blanca barreled through the kitchen and dramatically fanned herself with a napkin.
Carolina pinched Blanca’s arm. “Ay, Blanca. I’m livid with you. You blindsided me.”
“Qué?” their mother asked.
Carolina hopped up on a stool. “Why don’t you tell her what you did.”
Blanca poured herself a glass of water and downed it. “It’s nothing—Carolina is overreacting. The Montez Group emailed asking to set up a business meeting with Carolina. I replied that of course they could meet with us, but I totally blanked about telling her. They showed up today, and Carolina was completely rude to them. She tried to kick them off the farm!”
“Carolina Yvonne!” Mamá yelled. “You have no manners. You need to be nice to all visitors. I taught you better than that.”
“Whatever, Mamá. I don’t owe them anything. And Blanca, you know that isn’t what happened! This is my house and my farm, and I didn’t invite them.”
“It’sourfarm.” Blanca rolled her eyes before continuing. “One of the men really wanted to see the entire operation, so when Carolina mentioned Las Posadas and not having a Joseph, he volunteered to be Joseph! He’s super handsome, too. I think he likes her.”
Carolina’s cheeks burned. She couldn’t believe her sister just said that, especially to their mother, who was so desperate to marry off her eldest daughter that she had once created a fake Tinder account for her. It had been a complete disaster—men had shown up at their home expecting to go on dates with her, but she’d refused to even accept one invitation. A few had even asked her father’s permission, which of course he had given, but Carolina still wouldn’t date them.
Mamá clasped her hands to her chest. “He did? What a great man! He must be a good, devout Catholic boy if he would agree to portray Joseph.”
Carolina threw up her hands. “Nope. He even said he wasn’t really Catholic anymore, though he was confirmed. He never goes to church and prefers yoga instead. He’s probably one of those Cafeteria Catholics who just shows up for Easter and Christmas. You knowwho he is, Mamá—Enrique Montez. His family owns the Taco King chain.”
“He’s rich, Mamá! Like super crazy rich! I saw a magazine with pictures of his house. He drives a Tesla SUV.” Blanca whipped out her phone and found a picture of the Montez men. Ramón, Enrique, and Jaime. They all shared strong jawlines and devastatingly dashing dimples. Even Carolina had to admit that Enrique was good-looking. Devilishly handsome. Even more so in person.
Mamá rubbed her hands together like she was plotting something. “Smart and rich? And considerate enough to participate in a cultural and religious tradition for you? When is the wedding?”
“Right?” Blanca high-fived Mamá. “And thenIcan finally marry.”
Carolina exhaled. She would never hear the end of this. “Stop, Mamá.” She tapped Blanca’s head with a rolled-up newspaper. Hey, it was better than being hit with Mamá’s chanclas. Those slippers hurt! “I’m already angry with you. Why are you making it worse?”
“Because of Tiburón! He’s so dreamy. I think he likes me.”
Now it was Carolina’s turn to laugh. “I thought you wanted Jaime because he’s a Montez.”
