She rose. “I wouldn’t be surprised if some reporter from a Spanish newspaper approaches you. It would be fine to speak to him in Spanish.”
“Where will all these reporters and questions happen?”
“Anywhere! That’s the point I’ve come up here to make. Because Adan’s father is now such an important figure, they’ll be looking for material, for things to write. You look very nice. You’ve been taught how to behave in society. You will continue to make me proud,” she said, making it sound more like an order than a conclusion.
She paused at the doorway.
“Did my daughter behave today, or did she and Christian do something I should know about?”
“I will not spy on Sophia, Tía Isabela,” I said firmly. I would never forget how she used me to spy on Edward, and she knew it, too.
“I’m not asking you to spy. You have to help me with her, help us both now. Never mind. Just continue to get yourself ready for your date,” she said, and left.
If I had ever felt as if I were moving through a minefield, I felt it now. Suddenly, every word I said, every little thing I did, would be magnified and have some importance or possibly a disastrous result. Worrying about it all, I remembered I had promised to call Fani with the results of my confrontation with Sophia.
She listened and said something that frightened me. “She gave up too easily.” She actually sounded disappointed. “At least, I expected she would challenge you to show the picture to your aunt. You’d better keep your eyes and ears open and watch for some trap she’ll set. I’ll talk to you on Sunday, and we’ll think and plan some more. Besides, I want to hear how your weekend with Adan went. Have a good time.”
Why wasn’t she going out on date tonight, too? I wondered. Wasn’t there anyone she had interest in? It was on the tip of my tongue to ask, but I was afraid to do it. I thanked her, hung up, and went down to wait for Adan.
Sophia’s door was still shut, and I heard no music or anything coming from her room. She was probably in a deep pout. Maybe Fani was wrong. Maybe all of this would finally drive her to be decent.
Adan was right on time and as handsome as ever, in an emerald-green sports jacket that highlighted his eyes. He brought me another single rose. I half expected to see Tía Isabela there to greet him and fawn over him as well, but she didn’t appear. We went out to get into another one of his sports cars. He said it was an Aston Martin, and when he told me what it costs, I lost my breath for a moment. He laughed at my reaction.
“I didn’t pay that much,” he said. “We have some influential friends in the car business. I’m sure you know the irony, Delia. People with the money to pay for things also have the connections to get them for a much lower price. It’s the same everywhere.”
“Yes,” I said. “I am sure.”
We drove off. I looked back once and thought about Sophia stewing in her pot of anger back in her room. Fani’s warning was like a persistent chant. Sophia wouldn’t simply fade into the woodwork. Every day, I would have to be alert and expect some new trap set for me.
“You’re in very deep thought tonight,” Adan said. “Everything all right?”
“Sí,” I said.
He didn’t believe me, of course. He told me that when I had a delicious dinner and met his friend, I would cheer up.
“Charles Daniels is a world-class chef,” he said. “His close friends call him Chuck. He’s been to what is known as a cordon bleu cooking school in France, but he’s better when he cooks Italian. We went to undergraduate school together, and then he veered off and followed what he always wanted to do, be a chef. His father, who owns public storage facilities and a good-size trucking business in Los Angeles, wasn’t too happy about him not joining their business. He didn’t see his son becoming a chef as anything to brag about, either. He does have an older brother, however, who is working with his father.”
“Like you.”
“Yes, like me, which isn’t lost on Chuck’s father. He’s always pointing me out to him, but Chuck’s happy about owning his own place and doing what he loves. He’s a jolly guy, lots of fun. He treats the dishes he creates as works of art. Wait until you see how he presents everything.
“I’ll tell you a secret,” he added, whispering as if there really was someone else in the car who could overhear. “Someday, I’m going to build a bigger restaurant for him, and we’ll go into business together.”
He looked at me to see my reaction.
“I’m serious,” he emphasized.
“Oh, yes.”
He shook his head. “I see you’re not easily impressed,” he said. What kind of reactions did he expect from me? “Actually, I like that about you, Delia. I don’t think there’s an artificial bone in your body.”
“Artificial bone?”
“You know, phoniness. You’re authentic from your head to your feet,” he explained. It reminded me of when Fani had first begun speaking to me and telling me I was an authentic Mexican who could work in an authentic Mexican restaurant.
“I am only who I am,” I said.
The restaurant was somewhat smaller than I had expected, but I was not disappointed in the food or Adan’s friend Chuck. When he was able to do it, he joined us at our table, and he and Adan told one funny story after another about their college experiences.