10. Jaime
Unfinished business…
That seemed to be a theme with me and Emma. Only now I knew with startling clarity that my long-held suspicions were true. I didn’t have “unfinished business” with Emma. I would never be finished with her.
It was something I’d wondered about often over the years. In my moments of practicality, I would tell myself the reason the memory of her hung on so forcefully was because we had no closure. After the massive fight we had after my run-in with her father, she made it known she wouldn’t choose me over her family, and then she was gone. I thought she was gone forever.
Then, in my more morose moments of missing her, I thought that maybe if I could just get her out of my system, then I could finally find some peace.
But now that I’d spent the night with her, woken up with her in my arms, it became clear there would be no getting her out of my system, despite how she felt about our time together.
I had no idea how the rest of the week would unfold, or what conclusion she may come to regarding us. She seemed to be the same Emma I’d known long ago, but I knew deep down that couldn’t be the whole truth. Too much life had happened to both of us in the last twelve years. Emma Carter, with the bouncy red ponytail, had spent the last several years in expensive business suits, having even more expensive dinners with clients and negotiating deals that were worth more than I would ever make in my lifetime.
She was not the same innocent young woman who raced out of Colorado, leaving my broken heart behind. I’d be foolish to assume that giving her multiple orgasms and whispering sweet words would be enough to make her stay.
As my mind pondered that thought, I knew I was in serious trouble. I wanted her to stay. I already knew I needed her like I needed my next breath. The question was, did she feel the same way?
I walked out of her room, after another early morning romp, determined to enjoy the moment and not overthink the situation. I couldn’t predict what Emma’s next move would be, but she’s always been more pragmatic than me. That’s been our dynamic since the beginning—I’m driven by passion and instinct, and she’s ruled by reason and predictability.
Thankfully, she promised to see me again that night. I didn’t think anything could sour my good mood that day as I drove home… until I walked through the door and a cup whizzed past my head and shattered against the wall.
“You have a lot of nerve showing up here after being out catting around all night, Stefan,” my mother screamed from her perch on a stool in the kitchen. She looked me up and down with disdain in her eyes. “Don’t you dare come near me. I don’t want to smell some cheap hussy”s perfume on you!”
Maria rushed in from the living room, her face stricken by the commotion. She looked at me apologetically before rushing over to our mother. I knew better than to defend myself.
“Mama,” Maria said softly to our mother, “This isn’t Papa, it’s Jaime, your son,” she explained gently.
My mom looked at me as if she’d never seen me before, then whispered, “Jaime?”
“Yes Mama,” I answered softly.
Her lips pressed together in a line of consternation. “Of course, I knew it was you,” she said, throwing up a frustrated hand. “Now come help me get my big pan out so I can start you some breakfast.”
“Oh Mama, you really don’t have to…” I started, but Maria shook her head in warning behind our mother. I rushed into the small kitchen and squatted down to retrieve the heavy frying pan my mother used to cook nearly everything.
When I set the pan down on the stove for her, my mother looked up at me with a doting smile and cupped my cheek lovingly, just like when I was a boy, the action making my throat clog with emotion. I didn’t know how many more moments like this I would get.
“Why don’t you go clean up, Mijo. Breakfast will be ready by the time you’re done,” she said, pinching my cheek lightly before turning to the stove, effectively dismissing me.
Maria gave me a look of gratitude for playing along as I backed out of the kitchen, following my mother’s orders and heading for the shower to clean up. The last thing I wanted to do was wash off Emma”s scent, but I also knew she was now imprinted on me in a way that could never be washed off.
As I headed down the hall, I lamented what was now becoming a familiar situation with my mom. This wasn’t the first time she’d mistaken me for my father. Considering my resemblance to the man, it wasn’t surprising. What was disconcerting was that every time she mistook me for my father, she was accusing him of having a wandering eye.
Stefan Acosta was the most faithful man I’d ever known. But Mama had a jealous streak that only worsened once we immigrated to the United States. She was convinced the wealthy women of Silverpine would take one look at the tall, dark and charming Stefan and fall over themselves for a taste of something “exotic”.
And it was true, my father attracted his fair share of female attention. The man had a charming smile and was easy to talk to—but he only had eyes for Mama.
For her part, Mama had often told me I’d gotten my dad’s smile, and I needed to be careful who I flashed it to.
I dreaded how she’d react if she found out I was seeing Emma again. She always liked Emma as a person—she declared her to be a “sweet girl.” But she’d warned me back then not to get too attached because that “family of hers” would not be so welcoming. I had brushed off her concerns back then. I’d already met Mrs. Carter several times, and she seemed to like me. But I found out the hard way it wouldn’t be Mrs. Carter who would be the problem.
Once I was in the shower and the scent of Emma still clinging to my skin wafted in the steamy air, I couldn”t think of anything other than her. Nor could I stop the goofy smile from overtaking my mouth.
Mere hours before I’d held the woman of my dreams in my arms, and while it felt surreal, it also felt… right. More than I wanted to entertain at that moment.
After my shower, I headed back downstairs, the smell of breakfast wafting to my nose.
Mornings where Mama felt good enough to cook were rare, so I would enjoy this moment, but as I rounded the corner, I saw that her “good day” would be short-lived.
“Mama, are you ok?” I asked her when I saw her standing behind the stove, tears streaming down her face.
“I’ve lifted that pan a million times, why wouldn’t I be able to do that now?” she asked amid sobs and that‘s when I saw Maria on the floor, scooping up bits of egg and chorizo from the floor into a dustpan.
“It’s okay Mama,” Maria said. “It’s a heavy pan. Anyone could have dropped it.”
I squatted down on the floor, taking the dustpan from Maria. “Hey, you shouldn’t be down on the floor in your condition. I’ll take care of this.”
I helped Maria get back on her feet and watched with worry as she rubbed her distended belly after the effort.
That’s when I caught the distraught look on my mother’s face. She looked like a girl standing there looking at two of her grown children, her youngest child heavy with her grandchild.
“I-I, I’m tired,” she said brokenly, and I had to swallow hard past the lump of emotion in my throat.
Maria grabbed my mother’s hand. “Okay Mama, it’s okay. How about we get you settled in for a nap? It’s been an exciting morning.”
“I don’t need naps—I’m not a child,” she insisted as I finished cleaning up and dumped the dustpan’s contents into the nearby garbage can.
I cleared my throat, “Actually, I think Maria could really use a nap before that baby gets here… Lord knows you won’t be getting any once that little one is here,” I said when Maria scoffed. I turned back to my mom. “Do you think maybe you could help her get settled in?”
My mother’s eyes brightened. “He’s right Maria, you need to rest. C’mon,” she said, grabbing her daughter’s hand. “Let’s get you all set up. I can even sing that song to you liked when you were little—you’ll need to remember it for the baby.” And with that, Mama was marching Maria away in hand, just like when Maria was little.
Maria looked over her shoulder at me hesitantly, but I just shrugged my shoulders, feigning innocence.
“Oh, and Jaime, when you see your father, tell him to pick up some more eggs on the way home from work,” Mama called out.
I grimaced, but nodded obediently. “I will do that Mama.”
Once I knew they were out of earshot, I pulled my phone from my back pocket and dialed a familiar number. It immediately went to voicemail. Signing in frustration, I waited for the beep and said, “Sofia, this is your brother… not sure you would remember since you’ve been dodging me. Call me back. Please… or I’ll be forced to come over there and embarrass you in front of your new girlfriend,” I threatened. “Looooove you,” I sang out to her before hanging up the phone.
Sofia and my mother had a complicated relationship. Since Mama has been sick, Sofia has offered her support in the best way she thought possible: helping with the bills, paying the day nurse and sending grocery orders. But she has largely stayed away and though part of me understood why, it was quickly becoming apparent the nurse and Maria were going to need more help, especially with Maria getting so far along in her pregnancy.
Sofia was going to have to face our mother whether she liked it or not and unfortunately, I have to be the bad guy and convince her of that.
I let out a long breath and ventured back down the hall toward my mother’s room. Peeking through the crack in the door, I smiled at what I saw. There was mother and daughter, sleeping peacefully in each other’s arms, just like when Maria was little.
Quietly, I padded back down the hall and slipped out of the house, letting the beautiful morning sun hit me in the face as I headed to my truck. Considering how late the bar stayed open, it was rare I was up and out this early, but after my night with Emma, I was running on adrenaline, so I figured I might as well get more eggs for my mom.
As I buckled my seatbelt, my phone buzzed in my pocket and figuring it was Sofia, I pulled it out, bracing myself for her sharp reply. But it wasn’t Sofia. Instead, it was a California number.
Hey, it’s Emma. Not to sound to stalker-y but I pulled your number from the employee directory. I wanted to make sure you had my number… for later. ??
I giggled like a schoolboy. I was thirty years old, and I was giggling in delight over an emoji from a girl I liked… maybe more than liked.
“Alright, Acosta, don’t get ahead of yourself,” I warned myself out loud as I cranked on the engine. I couldn’t think of words like love, not yet, anyway.
***
Going into work that evening, I couldn’t fight back the grin that stretched across my face when my eyes fell on the barstool Emma had been perched on the night before.
I actually whistled as I prepared the bar for the evening. “Somebody seems extra chipper tonight,” Charlie said with a sly smile as he rounded the tables.
I shrugged nonchalantly. Let Charlie work for it a bit. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
That’s when Joey chimed in, “I’d be whistling too if I had a goddess like that looking at me with bedroom eyes,” Joey said, drawing out the last two words dramatically.
“Bedroom eyes, huh?” Charlie asked with curiosity. “You holding out on me, bud?”
I shook my head, but Joey wasn’t done. “Shit, you picked a hell of a night to be off, Charlie. They talked forever, and we were taking bets on how long before they just mauled each other.” I scowled at Joey sharply in warning. He at least had the decency to look sheepish as he shrugged and said, “Sorry, boss, but it’s true. There was something hot and heavy brewing.”
Charlie laughed. “You’re making it sound like he was having sex on the bar in front of everyone.”
“He might as well have been. I am man enough to admit I had to take a cold shower when I got home.”
“Ugh,” Charlie and I both said in union.
Joey didn’t seem embarrassed one bit, looking at me hesitantly before asking, “Is it true she’s the heiress of Pine Crest Resorts?”
Charlie jerked towards me, alarm in his eyes. “Emma? You were with Emma last night?”
I smiled at him tightly, addressing Joey. “I need you to finish rolling that silverware before the party across the way wraps up, shouldn’t be much longer.”
Joey looked between me and Charlie for a beat before nodding and excusing himself.
“Did I hear that right?” Charlie asked once Joey was out of earshot.
“He’s making a bigger deal out of it than it is. We were just talking at the bar, catching up,” I said, not really in the mood for Charlie’s “realism” at the moment. He was my best friend, and I valued his opinion, but the guy was not the most positive person to talk to when it came to matters of the heart.
Charlie huffed out a laugh. “You know, everyone knows what an honest guy you are, but most don’t realize it’s because you’re a shitty liar.”
I could feel my jaw clench. “No offense, brother, but I don’t need to defend who I spend my time with to you.”
Charlie let out a frustrated sigh. “I get it. You’re a grown man and I’m not your keeper but…” he trailed off, his face mottling with color.
“But what? Spit it out,” I demanded, just wanting to get this over with.
He hesitated before saying, “I just want you to be careful. You remember last time…”
I laughed humorlessly, “Are you serious?”
Charlie put up a placating hand. “Maybe that was a poor choice of words. It’s just… look, I know a lot of time has passed, but she’s still working for her old man, right?” he asked, letting the question hang in the air between us.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“It has everything to do with it. She threw you over for the family business. Now she’s well established in that business. If you weren’t the first choice then, what makes you think you’ll be the first choice now?”
I felt my hands clench at my sides and never had a stronger urge to punch my best friend in the face than I did right now. He had no right to throw all these things in my face and yet…
Yet, they were all valid concerns. I just wasn’t willing to let this euphoric bubble burst.
“Are you done?” I asked tersely.
Charlie scrubbed a frustrated hand over his face and let out a sigh. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
“Good,” I said, staring over his shoulder, not ready to look him in the eye and reveal my own reservations. “We need you behind the bar. It’s getting backed up.”
Charlie clucked his tongue and said begrudgingly, “Whatever you want, boss.”
I shook my head, because there was a chance I wouldn’t get exactly what I wanted so badly.