Page 124 of Perfect Playbook

Earlier this year, nearly two decades after setting off with a hundred bucks between them, they finally secured the investment with a world-renowned multibillionaire, Thaddeus Getty. In the little time since working with him, Thad has secured further investment, and their company already has a valuation of three hundred and seventy-eight million.

Nearly every day I think about how, if they'd signed that deal with Thad only a month or two sooner, Shay and I might have never made ours.

“Well, you know what…” Luis hoists Nino up on the stool next to him and ruffles his hair, still staring at Rio. “I do have a request.”

“Shoot,” Rio says.

He points in the air, serious as ever. “It’s that silly…”

Santi interrupts him. “Donotsay the gate.”

“What?” Luis shrugs and glances at Shay as if she’s about to agree with him. “What are you protecting around here with that thing? Fort Knox?” Now Luis turns to me. “Sorry, not that I think gates are bad. The one at Starlight Ranch is, you know… fit for purpose.”

Enzo, who’s probably used up his patience for people for the day, takes his glasses off to see if there’s something on them, then replaces them on a face identical to Rio’s.

“Should we have the cake now?” he asks in his low, tempered tone.

Shay slides out from under my arm and claps. “Yes. Cake. Let’s do it. I’ll be right back, just grabbing it.” Shedisappears around the corner to where she left the cake box in Santiago’s study.

Nino reads the side of his can of soda. “Uncle Enzo?”

Enzo, who is quiet, brooding, and even a little distracted from the present, now peers at Nino from behind his Clark Kent glasses and lifts his eyebrows.

Nino still considers the can. “Did you know you can use soda as a cleaning product?”

“Yes. I do.”

“How come if it can dissolve rust, it doesn’t burn our insides?”

Enzo crosses his arms and leans against a wall. “Stomach acid pH is higher than Coke.”

Nino’s mouth forms an 'O'. “That makes sense.” He immediately puts two and two together.

I know Enzo doesn’t have Nino’s aptitude, but he’s the closest person I know to having it. The pair simply nod at each other, almost having an invisible conversation about the chemistry of soda pop.

Just then, Shay comes into the room, and quickly, her brothers rush to take the cake off of her.

“I got it,” she says, still not wanting anyone handling her masterpiece. She places it on the counter.

Rioshoves in between her and the cake and shoos her off.

“It’s bad enough you insist on baking your own cake. Don’t you want a day off for your birthday?” he asks.

“I amnoteating someone else’s cake,” she says, as though he asked her something far worse.

“Well, get out of here and at least let us put the candles on,” Gabriel says.

Luis lifts Nino off the stool and carries him on his hipto the dining room.

I sweep my arms under Shay and cradle her in my embrace. “Come on. You need to sit down. It was way too hot out there.”

She laughs. I carry her a few steps around the corner into the dining room and set her down at the head of an Italian design twelve-person table. I pull out the chair for her to sit on her birthday throne.

Just then, Santiago’s surround sound comes on with the song Luis prepped me to learn when it was Nino’s birthday a few months ago and Shay and I were to wake him at an ungodly hour with this tune. In my family, we got to sleep in on our birthdays. Turns out Mexicans have to get up at the crack of dawn.

I take out my phone with the lyrics I typed in.

Four deep male voices come from behind, singing, “Estas son las mañanitas…”

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