Carolina’s voice was trembling. “Papá, actually... Well, the thing is—”
Enrique quickly took her hand and squeezed it.
With his attention back on Señor Flores, Enrique spoke loudly. “Well, sir, it’s a long story. I read a profile about her in the paper and admired her commitment to her family and farmworkers’ rights. We connected over email and have been getting to know each other for the past few months. She invited me up to see your family’s farm toteach me about sustainable farming. Then she asked me to play Joseph in Las Posadas. I’ve never participated in the holiday before but was happy to help.” He paused and stared into her brown eyes. “I quickly realized how kind and loving she is. I intended to ask your permission to date her tonight, but since you weren’t there, she invited me to come here to meet you at the hospital. And... here we are. To be clear, we have not had a formal date yet.”
She beamed at him. “Yes, Papá. It’s very new, which is why I hadn’t mentioned him to you. I had planned for you to meet tonight at Las Posadas.”
Señor Flores sat up straight in his bed. “Are you Catholic?”
Ugh, why does this keep coming up?“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Good. And what is it that you do for a living? My daughter is a top farm owner.”
It was adorable how proud her father was of Carolina. Enrique slowly opened his mouth to spew the parts of his resumé that would impress Señor Flores the most, but Carolina spoke first.
“You know about Enrique. Enrique Montez. As in, the Taco King Montezes.”
Señor Flores’s jaw dropped, and his expression turned from hopeful into a scowl. “Yes, I know about you and your family. You’re one of the playboy princes to your father’s empire.” He wagged a finger at his daughter. “I met his father—that snake—years ago, mija. He treated me like dirt. He is not a good man. Your boyfriend is not from a good family. This is over. Permission denied.”
Great. Enrique wasn’t even dating Carolina and her father already didn’t approve of their relationship, fake or real.
Enrique should just take this as an opportunity to end this ridiculous charade. He could walk out of this room now, never visit her farm, and spend the rest of his Christmas break surfing. He definitely didn’t feel the need to defend his family’s honor.
“Papá, I don’t know his father, but I have read about him. I, too, had preconceived notions about the Montez family based on his father’s actions. So much so that I didn’t even want to meet with Enrique when he first emailed me.”
She paused, then smiled at Enrique. “But in the little time that I have known Enrique, he has been nothing but a complete gentleman. He volunteered to help me with Las Posadas, he comforted me when he found out you were sick, and he even accompanied me here to see you in the hospital. Why don’t you get to know him before you pass judgment? He should not be punished for the sins of his father. It’s not very Christlike, especially during this time of year.”
Whoa.She really thought that?
Enrique had spent the last year defending his father ad nauseam to so many people. Everyone—businessmen and potential partners alike—constantly judged him because of his father. It was refreshing to be defended for once.
Her father looked at Enrique and then back at his daughter, then back at Enrique again. Victor’s eyes focused on Enrique from head to toe. He muttered something in Spanish to his wife, who said something back. Finally, he let out a heavy huff and a reluctant smile crossed his face.
“Fair enough. I will give you a chance, but I have not made up my mind yet. My daughter does make a good point. Besides, you must be pretty special for her to even consider making you her boyfriend—she’s never dated anyone before.”
Never dated anyone? Likeever? Why? She was twenty-three! And beautiful.
Enrique pushed his questions aside to compile his thoughts. “I’ve never met a woman like her.”
Carolina didn’t know anything about Enrique and was basing her opinions on him on the limited conversations they’d had in the twotimes they’d met. Enrique wasn’t a jerk; hehadbeen kind to her. His nanny had raised him to be a gentleman.
Still, what Enrique had said was true. He’d never met a woman like Carolina. She was headstrong, compassionate, and loyal. And sexy. Her doe eyes melted him.
But she didn’t seem to like him or his family’s business at all. And they didn’t even live in the same county. He wasn’t the right man for her.
The wool from his ridiculous robe scratched his skin. It had been a long day, and all Enrique wanted to do was go back to the vacation home, which was an hour away from inland Santa Maria, take off this costume, jump into a hot shower, and call it a night. This whole trip had been weird enough already. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Señor Flores, but I should give you all some privacy. I hope you feel better and get to go home soon.”
“Me too. I’d like to invite you over for dinner when I’m released. My wife is a great cook.” Señor Flores paused and lowered his head in shame. “I’m not sure if you know this yet, but I need to be honest with you. Much to my grave disappointment, Carolina doesn’t cook and doesn’t even want to be a housewife. At all. I think you should be aware of her shortcomings in case this changes your opinion of her and you choose not to continue your relationship.”
Carolina clenched her fists. “Papá!”
“It’s true! You burn tortillas. He should know these things as your boyfriend. What kind of man wants a woman who can’t cook?”
Enrique looked at the older man lying in the hospital bed, his face so animated despite the lack of color in his cheeks. He didn’t want to anger Señor Flores, but he wouldn’t tolerate him talking about Carolina like that.
Enrique looked at him directly. “I do.” Was Señor Flores actually this traditional? It was unfathomable to Enrique. They lived inAmerica and his daughter was a college-educated farm owner, who he seemed truly proud of otherwise. Why did he care if she couldn’t cook?
Señor Flores’s mouth gaped. “It doesn’t bother you? A woman should cook for her husband and raise their children. And a man should provide.”
