“Where is this job?” Isabel pressed, narrowing her eyes.
I should’ve known she’d interrogate me.
“Downtown.”
“What do you do?” she asked.
I paused, my mind racing for something that wouldn’t raise more questions. “Admin stuff,” I said finally. The only thing that came to mind was “lawyer.” “For a lawyer’s office.”
She raised an unconvinced brow. “You, working in an office?”
I forced a smirk, grabbing my glass. “Thanks for the overwhelming vote of confidence,hermana.”
She shrugged, accepting that shemightbe proud of me. “Cheers to you.” Then she tilted her head. “So which lawyer? Anyone I’d know?”
The only lawyer I could think of was Max’s—the one who stalked me. Marco. “No one important,” I said quickly. “It’s just paperwork and phones. Boring stuff.”
“Well, I’ll take boring over what’s going on at Daniel’s job. Hector got fired last week—again. And guess what?” She leanedin. “He stole three power drills. They caught him on camera loading them into his car. Can you believe that?”
“Wait. Hector? Skinny Hector with the glasses? What the hell is he going to do with three power drills?”
I could feel us slipping back to our old selves—the ones who gossiped instead of yelled.
“Who knows? Sell them? Build something? I don’t care. Daniel says the whole warehouse is a mess right now. Half the guys don’t show up, and the other half are stealing. If things get worse ...” She trailed off, her smile fading.
I could hear the worry in her voice, the way she tried to downplay it but couldn’t quite hide it.
“Is he okay?” I asked, my voice softer now.
She sighed, setting her glass on the counter. “He’s stressed. First the car, Mom’s medical bills, then the heat bill, and Lucia’s school stuff on top of that—” She stopped, shaking her head. “Anyway, thank you. For helping with Mom. I don’t know what we would’ve done otherwise.”
“It was about time I helped out.”
“It means a lot, Valentina. To me. To Mom.”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. Instead I watched as she grabbed the bottle, the rich red liquid pooling into her glass. Then she tilted it toward mine.
“Another?” she asked, holding up the bottle.
I’d thought about it, and I hated how I already knew my answer; how easily it would slip past my lips.
The thirty-day chip in my pocket felt heavier now.
“Sure,” I said anyway.
Then, of course, one glass turned into two. After all, I was just a drunk who couldn’t keep it together.
CHAPTER 9
VALENTINA
PRESENT
I’d spent several shameful hours watching rom-coms in bed with a bowl of popcorn when I heard the loud, echoing knocks on the door. I groaned, peeling myself off the couch, where I’d spent the better part of the evening reacquainting myself with a seven-dollar bottle of cabernet. Nothing quite compared to that warm, fuzzy feeling wine gave my heart.
Not a man. Maybe puppies. Puppies, I could see.
Ishouldget a dog. Or a cat. Something to come home to that wasn’t empty bottles and TV reruns.
