“Because,” Valentina murmurs.
“Because what?” I reply impatiently.
“It’s my last shot, Valdes. I should have tried to do more when they started dating but I didn’t think it was serious. Then they got engaged, but I didn’t think it would last. Now they’re about to actually get married. I just—I can’t let that happen. She deserves to be with someone who appreciates her the way I do. So I need to end it now before it’s too late.”
“How do you even plan on doing that?”
“Well, I have a few tricks up my sleeve. But I need some help. An ally, if you will.” She grins mischievously at me.
I know that look way too well.
“Absolutely not.”
“Oh, come on. We’d make a great team! Listen, I’ll make you a deal. You help me end this wedding, and I’ll help you solve whatever silly mystery is in your father’s book, starting with the rice pudding recipe.”
“I can’t!” I exclaim. “I’m supposed to win an investment with Luciano, remember?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure no one knows you were an accomplice. You’ll be my silent partner. Listen, it will happen regardless, so you either help me and I help you, or you figure your stuff out yourself and I still go on with my plan. So what do you say?”
I can’t lose this investment. If I do, the chances of me losing everything increase exponentially. I won’t be able to pay Gabriel the back rent and get us caught up. If I’m exposed, I’ll lose the chance to show everyone I fit in with them. That I’m not just the poor pitiful niece or cousin they probably mock as they eat caviar and drink expensive wine I can’t pronounce. I’m somebody. I have a restaurant, and to their knowledge, I want to open another.
I know they don’t say it to my face, but it’s there, under the surface. My mother used to say that’s why we never quite fit in with them—why there’s always been that invisible gap. It’s as if no matter how hard I work, how much I try, I’ll never quite catch up to their world of wealth and success. Maybe they don’t even notice, but I do. I feel it every time they talk about designers out of my price bracket, or when they would buy me extravagant gifts when I was younger and forget to take off the price tag, and I had to remind myself not to look at the cost.
But having Valentina help me with this book will make it so much easier to go through with my plan. She’s been with the family longer than I have, thanks to my mother. Valentina may have information I don’t have. I can’t lose that chance, either. So, maybe I’ll lie. Keep your friends close and enemies closer, right? The closer I am to her, the better I can be at foiling her plans without her knowing.
“All right,” I finally decide. “Maybe I can help a bit.”
Valentina turns to me and smiles.
“I knew you’d do it—so, deal?”
She extends her hand out, waiting for mine. I take a deep breath and shake her hand.
“You’ve got a deal.”
She tosses me an apron, and I catch it, fumbling slightly. “All right, let’s see if you actually know what you’re doing,” she teases, her tone light but challenging. “I’m not doing all the work, though. This is a team effort.”
“Deal.”
As I tie the apron, the strings get tangled in a knot, and I mutter a curse under my breath.
“You’re a mess,” Valentina teases, stepping behind me. “Here, let me.”
Her fingers brush lightly against my back as she untangles the strings and ties them in a perfect bow. I try not to shiver at the contact. “Thanks,” I mumble, avoiding her gaze.
“Don’t mention it. Can’t have you tripping over yourself while we cook.”
“Ha-ha,” I deadpan, rolling my sleeves up.
We start working in sync, with Valentina expertly crushing a cinnamon stick while I zest an orange and lemon. The air fills with a mix of warm spices and bright citrus, and I can’t help but feel a sense of ease, even in her presence.
“Smell that?” she asks, holding the crushed cinnamon under my nose.
I lean in, inhaling deeply. “It smells incredible.”
Valentina smiles, her voice soft. “Kind of like home, doesn’t it?”
Something about her tone makes my chest tighten, and I nod, suddenly lost in the memory of my dad’s kitchen. “Yeah. Exactly like home.”
