Once the introductions are over, Juana bursts into action, ordering Elena and Jake around the kitchen. Jake pulls a giant slippery turkey out of the package, and Juana gives him instructions in rapid-fire Spanish on how to prepare the bird for roasting.

When I offer to help, Juana shoves a huge bag of apples into my arms, and Elena explains that I’m supposed to chop them for the ensalada de manzanas. Pretty soon the two of us are laughing and joking as we work elbow to elbow. I look around to see if I can catch Rafael being normal again, but he’s already disappeared.

“Raf is good at a lot of things, but he is hopeless in the kitchen,” Elena informs me.

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” Elena grins. “A few years ago, he didn’t thaw the frozen hash browns for the cheesy potatoes, and the whole casserole was still completely cold when it came out of the oven.”

I snort.

“Don’t forget the time he forgot to take the plastic bag of giblets out of the turkey before we cooked it,” Jake adds.

“Oh, yeah.” Elena throws her head back and laughs. “Mamá pretty much banned him from the kitchen after that.”

I laugh. For some reason, Rafael’s cooking blunders don’t fit with the image I have of the uptight CEO who runs a multibillion-dollar company.

“How did you two meet?” I ask Elena, nodding at Jake.

Her eyes light up at my mention of her fiancé, and she ducks her head. “We’ve known each other our whole lives — literally. Jake is Raf’s best friend, and he lived next door to us.”

Suddenly, I remember what Rafael told me about growing up a poor kid in La Alma. Now it all makes sense. That’s why his family seems so normal.

“Has Rafael always been so . . .” I trail off, not sure how to phrase my question without offending his sister.

“What?” Elena laughs. “Was he born with a stick up his ass, you mean?”

“Elena!” Juana chides.

“I’m sorry, Mamá, but it’s true.”

“I was going to say intense,” I clarify with a nervous glance at Juana.

“Siempre fue un niño serio.”

Elena snorts. “That’s an understatement. But yes. Raf has always felt as though he had to take care of everyone.” She lowers her voice to a whisper. “Control everyone.”

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Jake interjects, leaning down to plant a sweet kiss on Elena’s lips. “He didn’t try to stand between us once we got together.”

Elena rolls her eyes. “That’s because we were already —”

Juana clears her throat loudly, and Elena breaks off. “Anyway . . . Raffy can be a bit of a control freak, but he’s a good brother — and a good guy.”

I nod slowly, focusing on my chopping instead of the guilt gnawing at my insides. Jake, Elena, and Juana all seem like nice people, and I feel a little bad that I’m here under false pretenses. It’s going to seem like a slap in the face if they ever learn that I was plotting to write an exposé about Rafael as I was taking part in their Thanksgiving preparations.

Then I realize that they’re probably going to read whatever story I end up writing, and my stomach clenches with shame.

“By the way,” Elena adds, just loud enough for me to hear, “the fact that my brother brought you here says a lot.”

“What?” Her comment takes me by surprise and momentarily breaks my focus. The knife I’m using slips, and I narrowly avoid slicing off a finger.

“Rafael doesn’t bring girls home,” Elena explains. “In fact, I’m not sure he’s ever brought anyone home.”

“Oh, we’re not —”

“I know you’re not, like, officially dating,” she adds with an eye roll.

“No.” I shake my head. “We’re not unofficially dating, either. I’m just Rafael’s assistant.”