Chapter 17 Nina #2
Her eyes hardened then. “It’s not fucking fair. They should pay.” What could I tell her? It really wasn’t, so I just stood there in silence until she calmed down. Didn’t really see much of her after that.
My eyes widened, and I knew Carmen had finally seen the recognition. I opened my mouth, but she shook her head.
“Knock ’em dead, yeah?” She challenged me, smirking.
She was right, I’d always worked my ass off to make sure I was the most prepared person in the room. It’d backfired on me, but I’d never let that happen again.
My phone lit up with Diego’s name. Lynnie leaned in, giggling, pressing her ear on the other side of the phone when I answered it.
“Ni-ni-naaa.” Diego’s voice rumbled through the line, lazy and warm, but with that scratch of casual I’d already spotted was so his. “I’m spinning at Lalo’s this Saturday. I want you there. I’ll drag you if I have to.”
Diego’s voice was a warm blanket of friendship you didn’t realize you needed until it was on you. Then I laughed, pressing my hand over my face because Carmen was already mouthing Yes. “Isn’t that very crowded on Saturdays?”
“You’re going to leave me hanging? No ‘of course, Diego, I’m so excited to hang out with you again’?” He shot back, mock-offended. “You wound me. I know you survived our date without dying of boredom. That’s a win in my book.”
Lynnie cackled from across the counter, nearly dropping her spatula. Carmen shook her head and rolled her eyes.
“Actually,” I said, letting the smile creep into my voice, “I have news. Big work opportunity. Two weeks. Large company. It’d make all the difference if I nail this.”
There was a pause, then Diego whooped so loud I had to pull the phone away, pushing Lynnie. “That’s right! Drinks on me after—”
“Hey, I haven’t done anything yet.”
“Nah,” Diego responded. “You’re too stubborn not to get this right.” He paused. “Come on, it’ll be low key. My friends will be there.”
Carmen took the phone from me. “Hey, Diego,” she said, calling him an idiot brother in Spanish.
“She’ll be there, yes.” She rolled her eyes.
“No, I’m not getting you drinks.” Diego complained at the other end of the conversation.
“No, I don’t have time for this, you can call her later. ” Carmen hung up the phone.
Carmen rolled her eyes again, muttering in Spanish. “Don’t look at me like that. Lynnie, you want to join us?”
Lynnie perked up. I tried not to smile. I’d somehow ended up with two almost friends who’d make sure I’d have plans and have fun. This was care.
Lynnie hesitated. “Actually, I may already have plans. I’ll let you know.”
Lynnie left to check with the baristas, and Carmen rested her elbows on the counter, casual, almost lazy, but she flicked her gaze to me with a calculating glint.
“You know, Nins, it’s kind of amazing how you’ve always just … made things work. Even back in school.” She tossed the thought away after she tapped her fingers once. Her head tilted, lips quirking as if she was testing me. “Your family made you work and cover your own expenses, right?”
My smile faltered. It shouldn’t hurt this much. “Something like that.” It wasn’t a topic I wanted to discuss.
Carmen wasn’t one to tiptoe around discomfort. “Have you ever wondered why you’ve always been so broke? Why your parents didn’t leave anything to fall back on?”
Her tone was light, but the question landed heavy, rippling through me as if she’d lobbed a stone into still water.
Heat flushed my chest; my parents did nothing wrong.
“They did,” I stated. “My aunt paid off their car, which I got when I turned eighteen, and about thirty thousand. It was enough to keep me healthy and keep student loans manageable.”
Carmen’s expression flickered—nostrils flaring slightly before her mouth tugged sideways in a half-smirk that didn’t reach her eyes. Disbelief. Judgment. Maybe even pity.
I didn’t know and I didn’t care. “You have no right to judge my parents. They did what they could.”
Her lips pressed together, then curved downward, regret smoothing out the edges of her face. Her eyes softened, brows drawn tight. “You misunderstand, Nina, I—”
“Don’t.” I stood up too fast, chair scraping.
I’d seen pity and admonishment of my parents for leaving me so little a hundred times, and I didn’t need to see it again.
“My parents were good. They cared about me. They didn’t live within their means, sure, but they made me happy.
” My voice rose sharper than I intended, anger I’d caged for years spilling out.
Carmen lifted her palms, a defensive gesture, her gaze dropping as if she couldn’t quite hold mine. “I get it, Nina. I’m sorry it came out that way, but I promise—I’m not against you.”
I exhaled hard. She sounded sincere. Some of the fight in me loosened, though the ache stayed.
Everything crashed into me at once: the judgment, the mess, the chaos, and Lincoln—always, somehow, Lincoln.
He would’ve understood. My chest knotted tight with the thought, and I shook my head, forcing myself to hold onto the thrill of the pitch opportunity, because it was easier than holding onto the knot of Lincoln-shaped confusion tightening my chest.