Chapter Five #2
Jaime had so much privilege, and was completely aware of all the advantages it gave him in life.
He didn’t have any right to complain when he’d been blessed with so much while others struggled.
But Jaime’s life was not without difficulties.
He was stifled by his father’s and his eldest brother Ramón’s expectations of him.
He, like Enrique, wanted to make his own way.
But it was easier for Enrique—he was so laid-back, go with the flow, and well, cool.
Jaime had his father’s temper and sometimes rage consumed him, and he couldn’t control his emotions.
Enrique kept nagging him to go to therapy, but Jaime would rather work in the corporate office with Ramón than talk about his feelings to a shrink.
Jaime had never been good at opening up about his feelings and those paralyzing expectations to anyone for fear of sounding ungrateful for his lot in life.
Anyone, that is, except Alma.
She had understood him.
But back then, he’d been just a cocky college student.
And now, he was just a fucking mess.
Jaime headed to the back of the deck where Santi awaited him. Santi laughed and glanced at his watch. “That’s gotta be a record. She kicked you out in five minutes flat. Brutal. Not gonna say I told you so, but I did, so…”
Jaime sighed. “I know, I know. I should’ve listened to you. You are right. She hates me.”
Santi flagged down the waitress. The peppy blonde approached the table. “I see your friend arrived.” She batted her eyes at Santi, who ignored her charms. “What can I get you, gentlemen?”
“I’ll have bourbon on the rocks.” Santi pointed to Jaime. “And this poor bastard will have a vodka martini with two olives, shaken, not stirred.”
Jaime shook his head. “Who am I? James Bond?”
Santi smirked. “That was your drink in college.”
“I’ve grown up.” But had he? Jaime shook off that thought. “Actually, I’ll have your best tequila, but not on the rocks.” At least he learned one thing from Alma before she kicked him out. “And an order of the calamari.”
Santi shooed away a seagull. “And some blue cheese garlic bread.”
The waitress returned to the bar.
Thank God Jaime was with Santi and not Enrique, who would no doubt want Jaime to explore his feelings in depth. Jaime didn’t want to say a word, at least not until liquor calmed his nerves and food filled his stomach.
The waitress returned with their drinks and their appetizers. She placed a single shot of tequila in front of Jaime.
“Here you go, sir. It’s El Tesoro Blanco. It’s my favorite and additive-free. But if you really want to get some great tequila, you should try Mezcalifornia a few doors down. That place is fire and the girl that runs it is badass. Her name is Alma. Severe girl crush. Cheers!”
Santi burst into laughter.
Fuck my life.
Jaime put his head in his hands.
The waitress’s face contorted. “Did I say something funny? I’m dead serious. She’s amazing.”
Jaime opened up his mouth to speak but Santi interjected. “No. Not at all. Yes, Alma is amazing. Jaime here used to date her. They were college sweethearts.”
Thanks, Santi.
The waitress’s mouth dropped. “Oh, wow.”
“I was an idiot,” Jaime offered up.
The waitress pursed her lips. “I mean, what more could you want than Alma Garcia?”
Santi clapped him on the back. “I tell him this all the time.”
Time to change the subject. “I’ll have the New York steak, medium rare.”
She nodded. “And you?”
“I’ll have the cioppino.”
She tossed her hair, shot Jaime a dirty look, and left the table.
“Hear that? Everyone loves her.”
“Don’t start with me, Santi.”
“I’m playing.”
Jaime inhaled the drink. It was smooth—no aftertaste. But also, nothing exciting about it. No matter how hard he tried, he just had never been in love with tequila. This idea was so ridiculous, especially the part about using Alma to help him.
Maybe the thought of starting a tequila company was asinine.
And Santi was right. He knew nothing about it.
As annoyed as he was about all these non-Hispanics starting tequila companies, he himself had no business founding one either.
Maybe he should start a craft beer line—at least he loved beer.
If he was of Russian descent, would he be looking into vodka companies?
The truth was Jaime was chasing another one of his harebrained ideas.
Maybe Enrique was right—Jaime needed to look inward and figure out who he really was first.
At least the food was delicious. The steak was perfectly cooked and the view of city lights, the ferries in the bay, and the bridges in the background was awe-inspiring.
He clinked his glass with Santi’s. “Thanks, man, for just being here with me. Sorry, I’m such a fuckup. I wish I had it all together like you do.”
Santi put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “It’s just an illusion, bro. Sure, my business is booming, but I’m a workaholic. I have no work-life balance.”
“Sorry to hear that, man.” Sounded like his brother Ramón. Well, before he met Julieta. “I’m clearly not one to give advice, but Ramón was just like you. After he met Julieta, he changed. Maybe you will meet someone and want to stop working so hard.”
“Or maybe I won’t. Why? Did seeing Alma briefly make you want to find someone and start a relationship like Ramón did?”
“Absolutely not. Well, not now. Maybe one day.”
“I hear you. One day in the future.” Santi devoured a large shrimp and Jaime’s mouth watered. Though Jaime’s meal was excellent, he should’ve ordered the seafood.
“So, are you going to stick around for the month, or have you had a change of plans?”
Jaime shook his head. “No, man. No. I’m here for the month. I need a beat. And I promised you I’d do that charity event with you.”
“Thanks for that, man. I appreciate it.”
“No sweat. It will be a good time. How’s Leti, by the way?”
“Good. She’s on the high school cheerleading team, and she even has a boyfriend who is in her class.”
“You okay with that?”
“Of course. I just want her to be happy.” Santi paused. “Are you going to give up on trying to have anything to do with Alma?”
A bitter taste filled Jaime’s mouth. He hated to admit defeat. But there was no hope. “I don’t have a choice. I don’t want to stalk her. She made it clear she wants nothing to do with me. I get it. I don’t blame her. I respect her choice.”
“Yeah. You fired your shot, but you didn’t have any chance. Does this mean you’re going to abandon your ideas of tequila domination?”
Jaime turned up his palms. “It was a stupid idea anyway. All because I got mad that some oblivious celebrities wanted to use me to sell their products.”
Santi paused. “I mean, yeah, that was pretty pathetic of them to ask but it’s par for the course with these companies.
But starting a tequila line isn’t the worst idea I’ve ever heard of.
” He paused. “You don’t need Alma. You could do it alone.
Or we could do it together. I’d love to diversify my portfolio. ”
Yeah, Santi was way too much like Ramón. Jaime didn’t understand Santi’s and Ramón’s calm, practical approaches to business decisions. Or Enrique’s spiritual one. To Jaime, it was simple. Did the business interest him enough to capture his attention for a while?
And if he was honest with himself, his interests waned pretty quickly. At least in business. Jaime had always been passionate about soccer. And women.
But his career aspirations had been all over the place. It disgusted him sometimes that he was nothing more than a social media influencer. He didn’t want to be responsible for influencing some young kid to do anything.
He had never meant being an influencer to be his career.
He was running the social media accounts for Taco King and once took a shirtless selfie of himself eating at one of the restaurants.
That picture blew up online. Brand deals came pouring in, and in all honesty, Jaime couldn’t resist the money.
Once his father was forced out of the company, Jaime told Ramón he didn’t want to run the social media full-time and instead Jaime focused on his own career.
But after a couple of years, the shininess wore off and his work, while lucrative, lost its luster.
When he was a little boy, Jaime wanted to play professional soccer. But his father, of course, was completely against that idea. He wanted him to focus on their business and saw his three sons as mere extensions of himself.
So, after he painfully abandoned that dream, Jaime dedicated himself to school. He didn’t want business degrees, like Ramón had, or a degree in agricultural science, like Enrique had. He wanted something more liberating.
He studied communications, and it was a natural gateway into digital marketing. His socials blew up in college, which thrilled his father because he wanted Jaime to use his skills to further the restaurants’ social profiles. And while Jaime enjoyed it at first, it left him feeling empty.
Which was how he felt right now.
But despite searching for a new passion, he just hadn’t found one. So, he spent his days surfing, his nights partying, and occasionally made some posts for some brands. He barely even played soccer anymore.
Maybe he could pick up a game while he was here. He would’ve asked Carlos, but that was clearly a no-go.
“Well, I’d love to go into business with you. But, no offense, this was something I really wanted to do on my own. I never do shit on my own. Without my family’s watchful eyes or control.”
“None taken. I totally understand. But Jaime, you don’t need to just drop your idea because Alma doesn’t want to help you. She never was going to. You don’t need her. I have full confidence that you can do this alone.”
Jaime ran his hands through his hair. “Thanks. It’s nice to hear that someone believes in me.” Ramón was always praised for his intelligence and business acumen, and Enrique was always valued for his emotional intuitiveness.
But people usually just measured Jaime’s worth by his looks.
He desperately wanted to be more than just the pretty boy.
He wanted to be smart like Ramón and sensitive like Enrique. He wanted to be well-rounded. He wanted to be a good man.
“I mean it, bro. I believe in you. I can help you any way you want, but don’t worry, this will be your own thing. You could go to Mexico and study by yourself. Or you could do a course online. Find another mentor. Trust in yourself. You don’t need her.”
“I’ll cheers to that.” Jaime raised his glass of water, since his dance with that tequila shot was a distant memory.
Though when Jaime drank the water, he couldn’t help but think that Santi was wrong that Jaime could do it on his own.
Maybe Jaime wouldn’t lose interest in tequila—he could see himself forming more of a taste for it every time he drank it.
But about the other thing Santi had said.
That he didn’t need Alma.
Jaime couldn’t help but think he really did.