Page 108 of All Twerk, No Play

He sat beside me, his reassuring arm on the back of my chair, shifting the skillet closer and loading up our plates. “Nobody will judge you if you pig out.” When I moaned at my first bite, Eric’s hand on my shoulder tightened. “Save that sound for later,Cobrecita.”

His mom gave a backhanded slap on his bicep before sliding more food onto my plate. “Give your girl a break, she’s hungry.”

As Eric recounted our trip—skipping all the embarrassing parts made it an incredibly short recap—Luisa was quiet. I tried to remember what he’d told me about her: She ate gluten-free, loved Taylor Swift, and was the first one in the family to … “You’re in college, right? What do you want to do?”

“I’ve been thinking about law school,” she said.

“Victoria’s a partner in her own law firm,” Eric bragged.

“Really?” she perked up. “Do you like it?”

“Of course,” I said confidently. Then I took in Luisa’s admiring eyes and remembered the sacrifices I’d made. She was asking for advice and deserved the truth. “But I don’t know if I’d choose law school again. It’s nonstop studying, and I went into corporate law so working my way up the ladder meant a lot of late nights. I was miserable for years.”

It felt freeing to say that out loud. I wasn’t miserable anymore … but I could be. Getting overlooked for that promotion had felt devastating, but now I could only see all the joy I would be missing if I’d stayed.

When Luisa’s face dropped, I said, “But workload depends on what you want to specialize in.”

She looked tentatively at her mom. “I want to help small businesses, to write their contracts and stuff.”

Eric’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “Victoria has written some interesting contracts for me.”

His troublemaking grin widened at my glare. Nope, I definitely wasn’t going to tell his younger sisters about the sex contract. “What kind of contracts?”

“Commercial real estate.”

My spirits rose. “Did Eric tell you I used to work in real estate?”

“You call him Eric?” Adriana asked loudly. “Why would you remind him of—”

“Adriana,basta,” Gloria interjected, voice firm.

Remind him of what? My gaze drilled into the side of Eric’s head, while he focused on the countdown timer on his watch.

“I, um,” Luisa said quietly, trying to steer back the conversation. “I want to help small businesses negotiate their leases after what happened to my dad.”

Eric brought his thumb to his tightly pursed lips, his leg bouncing enough to make the whole table shake. Gloria’s fingers wrapped around her necklace, sliding a pendant back and forth as she fixated on an ear of grilled corn. Luisa covered her mouth. Even Adriana took a huge bite of black beans to prevent herself from talking.

My eyes locked on Eric’s fist clenching on his legs. My voice was quiet and firm. “Tell me what happened.”

His eyes dropped closed. “My stepdad Jim had an aneurysm at his dojo. Even after he died on-site, the real estate company wouldn’t cancel the lease. Mama kept paying rent for over a year out of their savings. Had to sell their house to make the payments.”

The queso soured in my stomach. That cancellation should have been covered by aforce majeureprovision or an Act of God clause. Any reasonable realtor would adjust the terms.

There was only one reason that Eric would keep that from me.

Only one reason that he would avoid my eyes right now.

Even though I already knew the answer, I had to ask. “What company?”

When he turned to face me, his soulful eyes were tinged with pain. My head pounded so loud that I couldn’t hear his whisper as I read his lips: “Sinclair Larsson.”

"Everlong," Foo Fighters

Victoria

Aftertearingoutofthe house, I realized too late that Eric had my car keys. Grateful to be wearing sneakers for once, I took off, knowing he could easily catch up, but hoping he wouldn’t.

I ran around the neighborhood, clocking mile marker signs to LaGuardia—remembering my panicked escape to that airport 13 years ago after Spencer’s deception, contemplating making the same rushed exit again … but this time in shame.

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