I can feel the tears filling my eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Isa,” Luciano says softly.
“It was really tough. I had to drop out of college and continue running the restaurant. I refused to let it fall. It would be like I let him fall too.”
“And your mother? Did she help out a lot too?”
I snort. “No. She hated being in there. She spent most of her time shopping or having lunch with her friends. But, of course, she’d always boast about the restaurant and what an achievement it was for her that sheownedone.”
“It seems like the restaurant means a lot to you.”
I blow out the marshmallow I, once again, have lit on fire.
“It’s everything to me. I wake up thinking about it and go to sleep thinking about it. I don’t do anything else but work, really. I think about my father’s recipes—how I can modernize them without losing their soul. I think about new recipes to add, new ways to market the business, and new decorations to add. La Mariposa is the last thing I have of my father. If I lose it, I don’t know what I’d do. I’d be lost—a part of me would be lost. Gone. The only part that keeps me going these days.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you’re doing so well then, right?”
“Right.” I laugh nervously. “Of course. That’s why we’re expanding. To bring more people to La Mariposa so they can enjoy my father’s delicious foods. His recipes are what makes it special, and I want to share that with the world.”
The moment the words come out of my mouth, I regret them. I should have come forward with the truth. Now he’ll never invest. It already feels like a lost cause. What do I expect him to do when he finds out we actually can’t afford to expand?
“If I’m being honest, we struggled a lot,” I say, lowering my voice to an almost whisper. “My family didn’t grow up as Sofia did. We were really poor. I was lucky if we had something to eat other than rice and beans for dinner every night. We never went out to eat. I never got new clothes—only thrifted and on clearance. I don’t…fit in here. And I can tell. I’m sure everyone else can tell too.”
Luciano stays quiet for a moment, biting into the s’more he smushed together with a piping-hot marshmallow. I watch as he chews, enjoying the combination of flavors that make s’mores so great.
“Can I be honest with you too?” he finally asks.
I nod.
“You know I’m adopted—I’m sure everyone here knows. It’s pretty obvious. My parents are white. I’m a really, really tan Hispanic man.” He laughs, then reaches for another marshmallow.
“Well, my parents didn’t adopt me until I was about sixteen years old. So before that, I was in and out of the foster system since I was a toddler. The older I got, the harder it seemed to get adopted. I know what it’s like to grow up with nothing—not even having a bed to call your own. Sharing a home with ten other kids you don’t know, all going through something serious and personal. I owned the same pair of pants until they turned into capris. As I got older, I became more and more bitter. Then, I started going down a bad route.”
He pauses momentarily, almost as if the memory itself is too hard to remember.
“I started stealing money from other kids, my foster mom, and stuff from stores. I just wanted to have something that was mine for once. It felt great. Like I finally owned something. I bought my first pair of shoes with money I stole. It wasn’t until my foster mom found out that she sat down with me and explained that I was lying to myself. I didn’t own those shoes. I stole someone else’s hard-earned money to buy them. From that moment on, I stopped stealing. I didn’t want to own things that weren’t mine. I wanted to earn them. Then I met my parents.”
“Luc, I had no idea. That sounds rough. It’s amazing you persevered.”
“I did.” He nods. “Thanks to my parents. I was lucky to find parents who wanted me and were also so successful. They did grow up with money. They lived in a gorgeous house with six bedrooms. I finally had my own bedroom and bed. My parents would buy me whatever I wanted and needed.”
“Wow, that sounds amazing.”
“You’d think, but it made me super uncomfortable. I felt like I didn’t earn any of it. It was all luck. I was just in the right place at the right time when they came looking for a kid to adopt. Now I have this nice house, I go to a private school with a fancy uniform, and I know my college tuition is set. I went from not knowing when my next meal would be to being able to ask for whatever food I wanted and practically have it appear in front of me in mere seconds. Once I got into my parent’s investment business, I started to feel the nepotism.”
I watch a few people get up and dance to the soft sounds of Alessandro playing the guitar across the campfire.
“So, what did you do to combat those feelings?” I ask.
“Well, I decided I wanted to branch out on my own and start my own investing. Granted, I still needed a start-up fund from them, but this is my only opportunity to feel like I have a choice in investing in something I believe in and grow my own business. Would I be self-made? No. Am I ashamed I’m not self-made? Sometimes. But my parents worked incredibly hard for me to have the things I do, so I try to remember that I’m just honoring their hard work by expanding on it.”
“That makes sense.” I nod slowly, taking it all in.
“That’s why I’m so excited about your restaurant, Isa. They expect me to find something that’ll be a surefire success. Something that doesn’t require a ton of work on my end. But I want to find something that I truly believe in. And your story, I believe in that. I believe in your food. I believe in your relationship with your father before and after he passed away. I believe in your ideas to expand the restaurant and make it even more successful. But most importantly, I believe you. You are special, Isa. Your story. Your life. I just feel like I can relate to it so much.”
“Wow, Luc. That means a lot to me that you believe so much in the business.” I’m touched, but the guilt twists in my stomach like a knot. Part of me wants to confess everything right now, to tell him that the restaurant isn’t the thriving empire I’ve painted it to be. But I can’t bring myself to do it. Even though he says he believes in the story, what if that belief crumbles once he finds out I’ve been lying? I’ve gone this far—backing out now might just ruin everything.
“So, when you finish the business plan, send it my way.”
