Page 49 of Love Is In The Air


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“Mija!” Mama answers on the secondring, her voice warm, familiar, grounding me instantly. “It’s early there. Can’t sleep?”

“Something like that.”

My mother has always been my closest confidante, the one person I could turn to no matter what. Even as a teenager, whether it was boy troubles or a falling out with a girlfriend, I could go to her. She never claimed to have all the answers, but somehow she always knew how to guide me toward finding them on my own.

Most importantly, Mamaneverjudges.

“Mija?” Her voice is soft. She gives me an opening, holding space until I tell her what she knows I want to. Have to. Need to.

“I…met someone.”

“Okay.”

I lick my lips. “He’s…he’s from a different world. He’s a…Mama, he’s a freaking count.”

“A count? Like royalty?”

“Yeah, exactly like that. People call himle Comte.”

She laughs. “Sounds like an upgrade from that moron you were dating in Philly.”

I can’t help but see the humor in the situation. “Oh, yeah, a complete upgrade.”Both in and out of bed!Not that Mama needs to know that.

“What’s the problem?” Then I hear a gasp. “He isn’t married, is he?”

I groan. “Mama! No. He’s divorced. His ex is a piece of work.”

“Like inRubí, La Usurpadora, Teresa?” she shoots back immediately.

She and I have watched enoughtelenovelasto recognize the type. In every one of those shows, there’sthatwoman—glamorous, ruthless, with flawless hair, and claws sharp enough to shred a man’s heart.

“Exactlylike that.”

“So…this ex is giving you trouble?”

My throat tightens, and I stare at the glow of Paris. “He’s…ah…in the tabloids here. So, I’m only here for a few months and….” I exhale noisily. “Mama, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Is he good in bed?”

“Mama,” I protest, not exactly scandalized because Mama, to Papi’s chagrin, was always open about sex with Marisol and me.

“Is he?”

I can feel my face heat up. “Si. Good.”

“Are you in love with him?”

I bite my lower lip. “I don’t know.”But I’m afraid I may be.

“Do you enjoy his company?”

“Yes, Mama.”

“Is he abusive?”

“No,” I exclaim. “He’s wonderful. Ah…he gets defensive about paparazzi and being in public, but that’s about it. His divorce was a big scandal. His son had photographers chasing him.”

“He has a son?”