Page 7 of Only Fate

I fight with myself on whether to answer but decide ignoring him is the best option. There’s nothing that kills assholes more than silence.

“Please let it be a reality,” I say, patting my pillow and making myself comfortable. “Don’t let him find another way to barge into my life.”

But I should know that he always finds a way to blindside me.

3

“Let me get this straight,” my mother says, staring at me wide-eyed from across the table. “They promoted you … and then you quit?”

We’re at Isla Dulce, myabuela’s favorite restaurant. It’s the only place around that serves true, authentic Puerto Rican dishes.

“That’s exactly what happened.” I snort back a laugh and down my bourbon.

I should’ve turned down Laurence and Charles’s offer as soon as they congratulated me. I had no idea Essie was in the running, but when she barged into my office, I knew exactly what it was for.

“I’d have gotten sick of those assholes sooner or later.” I raise my glass for a refill as the server passes, and he nods.

My abuela grins. “I think you leaving that firm is fate.”

“Fate that he’s now unemployed?” my mother argues.

My abuela keeps her brown eyes on me. “You don’t need those idiots to be a successful attorney. As a matter of fact, I have the perfect opportunity for you.”

“Your ideas are always trouble,” my mother says with a sigh. “Trouble that I always have to bail you out of.”

“Oh, hush, Paula.” My abuela flicks her hand through the air. “You can’t blame a woman for wanting to have some fun.”

“Fun?” My mother scowls at her. “Arguing with your HOA over pink plastic flamingos in your lawn or starting a farm in your backyard might be funfor you, but it’s a headache for me since I’m the one who always has to bail you out. They have your picture with the wordsValeria Guzman is troublehung up on the community bulletin board.”

My abuela laughs. “Who are they to tell me I can’t have pet goats? Unless they’re paying my bills, they need to keep their nose outta my business. Also, I scribbled out my name on that bulletin and replaced it with the HOA president’s.”

My mother massages her temples. She has a folder full of situations she’s had to bail my abuela out of. Like me, she’s an attorney, which works in my abuela’s favor.

The server drops off my drink, and I’m grateful the conversation is no longer about my lack of employment.

An older man, wearing black suspenders and a white shirt, stops at our table. “Apologies for my tardiness. I hate this city traffic.” He smiles down at my abuela. “I texted but figured you’d forgotten your phone at home again.”

My abuela’s face lights up as she peers at him. “Of course I did.”

They grin at each other, and the man’s wrinkled face brightens.

What the hell am I missing?

“This is Terrance, my boyfriend,” my abuela introduces before I have the chance to ask.

I choke on my drink and tap at my chest to force the liquid down.

“Boyfriend?” my mother asks as Terrance holds out his hand toward her. “Since when do you have a boyfriend?”

“Since I wanted one,” my abuela replies, rolling her eyes dramatically.

My mother shakes Terrance’s hand. “Paula. It’s nice to meet you.”

I stand and do the same when he offers me his hand. “Adrian. The grandson.”

Terrance smiles and clasps his free hand over our joined ones. “I’ve heard great things about you, Adrian.”

“So, how did you two meet?” my mother asks Terrance as we sit.

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