“It’s a pleasure to meet you all. Please, come inside, and Maria will show you to your suite. I have coffee ready in the dining room. I’m sure Ricky would love to catch up with Emmie,” she says as Maria ushers his parents to their suite.
“You bet I do,” Ricky says with a wink, grabbing my hand.
“I’ll join you both. We’ll head outside so Mama can fill George and Michele in on the wedding plans,” Gabriela says.
“Absolutely! I’ve brought some things as well!” Michele says excitedly from the hallway.
“Christ, what do these people do for a living?” Ricky’s dad says in awe.
“George! Knock it off, and let’s go!” Michel chastises him, making me laugh as Gabriela guides Ricky and me to the back patio.
We settle in and sit on the lounge chairs, taking in the early Columbian air.
“So, what’d I miss?” Ricky asks as he sits next to me.
“You mean apart from my surprise wedding in South America?” I ask, and he laughs.
“Nothing much, really,” I say, and Gabriela scoffs.
Ricky looks over at her and raises an eyebrow.
“Am I missing something he says?” Gabriela looks over to me, and I shake my head.
“Nothing,” I say quickly, and his eyes snap to mine.
“Bullshit,” he says, frowning at me.
“It’s really nothing, Ricky. Just wedding planning is all,” I say, trying to cover up my lie that, of course, he doesn’t fall for.
“I think after these few months, you know by now not to lie to me. Now spill,” he says, and we give him silence as he looks back and forth between Gabriela and me.
“Please tell me that you’re not pregnant and planning a shotgun weding…” he says, and I roll my eyes at him.
I already had a shotgun wedding, sans pregnancy.
“I’m not pregnant, Ricky—”
“I am,” Gabriela interjects, and I shoot my eyes over in her direction, surprised.
“No shit! And who’s the lucky guy?” he asks, and I look at her anxiously.
“James Rowen,” she says, holding her belly.
He gasps. “No. Fucking. Way.”
“Surprise,” I say. “But don’t say anything, Ricky. I mean it. Nobody knows yet,” I say.
My head snaps over to the doorway when I suddenly hear someone step out. My eyes widen as they lock with Dante’s.
“What?” he clips out, fury pouring from him.
“Dante—” Gabriela and I say, but he shakes his head and storms back into the house.
“Dante, wait!” I shout after him, following him inside.
14
Esmeralda