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Bride Wanted: A Virgin and Billionaire Fake Fiancé Romance by Eva Luxe, Juliana Conners (108)


– Harlow

 

 

Los Cuates is crowded, and doesn’t take reservations. But it’s my mom’s favorite restaurant, so as usual, all of us wait until we’re called to be seated.

The four of us, plus Jensen’s girlfriend Riley, have been trying to come to lunch at Los Cuates every other week for the past few months. A new tradition.

So far it’s been working out surprisingly well, considering it’s the first family tradition we’ve had since Dad died. And the first one that Mom is a part of for as far as I can remember.

“I wish we could wait in the bar,” Jensen says under his breath, but both Ramsey and I elbow him.

Mom’s a recovering alcoholic and addict, and a bar is the last place she should be. While she’s lived her life being off the wagon a lot more than she’s been on it, she’s been holding steady lately, going to her meetings and abstaining from any harmful substances, and it’s been nice.

Things with Mom have always been rocky, to say the least, and at times I’ve wanted to give up on her completely. But Ramsey, the rock of the family, always persuades me to give her another chance. And I know that Jensen truly wants to keep some semblance of family life together, even though he puts up a tough front.

So, I go along with it, as the good youngest brother should, even though I sometimes wonder what we’re doing in trying to play Big Happy Family. I’m sure it will fall apart sooner or later, just like everything in our family’s history always has.

“I really love your dress,” Riley tells my mom, who blushes.

“Why thank you. Ramsey bought that for me for my birthday.”

The sarcastic glare I give Ramsey says what a little suck-up. He’s always doing things to try to make Mom happy, even though she’s never really done the same for us.

Recently things got heated between her and her abusive ex— one of many addict losers who string her along until they’re done with her— and she was out on the street with no place to go. Ramsey convinced all of us to pitch in money for an apartment for her, and he goes to visit her often.

He thinks she’s becoming senile and may need round-the-clock care, but I think it’s just a combination of the drugs and the successful pity parties she always throws for herself and which only Ramsey really buys into.

Finally, the hostess leads us to a table, disrupting my thoughts about the past, and we continue the Happy Family façade in the present. I’d like to think we can all keep this up, but I know not to set my hopes too high.

We make small talk about work and about Jensen’s and Riley’s blossoming relationship, and then I feel the need to bring up a subject I probably shouldn’t. Jensen and Riley are holding hands and looking deep into each other’s eyes, and I don’t want to ruin their happiness. But it’s so rare that all of us are together that I don’t know when else we would talk about this.

“So, Dad’s birthday is coming up,” I say.

My brothers nod their head in cautious agreement while Riley turns to Jensen and says, “Oh? I didn’t know.”

He brushes a strand of hair from her face, and kisses her cheek. I know he hadn’t wanted to bring up sad things, in the midst of their newfound joy. She smiles back at him, obviously understanding this fact as well.

Mom says nothing.

“Yeah, I was wondering what you guys wanted to do?” I ask.

“I think we should go to his gravesite as usual,” Jensen says.

“Definitely,” Ramsey agrees. “I’ve been kind of re-learning how to play the guitar, and I’d like to play something in his memory.”

“Wow!” I’m impressed. “That’s great. Since when?”

Ramsey just shrugs, with a look in his eyes that’s hard to read.

“And maybe we can take him to dinner afterwards,” he continues. “Trombino’s, maybe? Since he loved Italian?”

“Remember that time he took us there and convinced the waiter we were visiting from Italy?” I say.

“I do,” says Ramsey. “But I can’t believe you do. You were just a little kid.”

“He was even talking to him in fake Italian,” says Jensen, laughing. “And asking him in a horrible Italian accent how authentic the food was, whether it was like his mama’s cooking back in the Old Country.”

“Dad always was a hoot,” Jensen says. “I miss him so much.”

“Well, I need to piss,” Mom says, getting up from the table and walking away while the rest of us sit there speechless.

“Good ole’ mom. Running away at the sign of any serious conversation,” I say.

“Harlow,” Ramsey says sternly. “Be nice.”

“Why should I? It’s always more of the same old same old with her. She left us and Dad a long time ago, to run off with some loser. And she’s never really been committed to trying to fix anything since.”

Ramsey’s face turns beet red. He looks angry. I’ve never seen him like this. He’s usually the cool, calm, collected one among the three of us.

“Harlow, you make good points but I don’t want to talk about it right now,” he says. “I just can’t.”

He clenches and unclenches his fists several times.

Jensen, Riley and I exchange concerned glances.

“Okay. Sorry. I won’t say another word,” I say.

I feel bad but I don’t really know what I did to make him so mad.

“We’ll just have a nice time at lunch,” Jensen says, reaching out to touch Ramsey on his shoulder.

This gesture seems to calm him down. He nods.

“Sounds great.”

The waitress comes to take our order, but Mom still isn’t back. She refreshes our tortilla chips and salsa and waters, and says there’s no rush.

We sit in silence for a while.

“How’s your practice going, Riley?” I ask, finally thinking of something to say.

“Pretty good,” she says, with her infectious grin. “Working for myself and for clients I enjoy may not pay as well as I’m used to, but it sure beats working as a billable hour slave— I mean associate— for partners at a big firm.”

“Great,” I say, genuinely happy her career shift is working out for her.

When she met Jensen, she was a big shot at a nice law firm, but she gave that up to offer legal help to military service members like him.

It’s hard to stay upset when Riley’s around. Jensen may have wussed out and gotten himself a girlfriend, but at least he picked a good one.

Still. That’s not happening to me, ever.

After growing up with our mom and seeing how flaky and unstable people can be, and how a once-loving relationship can be destroyed once someone decides to throw it away, I don’t know how Jensen could ever commit to anyone. I’m determined to never be that stupid.

Mom finally comes back and says, “On my way to the bathroom, I passed a board that said their special today is the blue corn enchilada plate. I think I’ll try that.”

She sits down as if nothing is wrong, but she reeks of alcohol.

I want to ask her if reading the specials board is what took her so long. Or if she thinks we’re that stupid. It’s obvious she went to the bar and had a drink.

I look at Jensen and sigh, and he shrugs. For Ramsey’s sake, neither of us points out the obvious.

“I’m going to have the huevos with carne adovado,” I announce, playing my role in the Everything-is-Great game.

“Sounds good,” says Riley, as the waitress approaches us once again.

Time to have a big fake happy family meal, I think, as we order. And to get the hell out of here as soon as I can. That’s the one thing I’m always good at doing.