Page 11 of Forget Me

She shook her head. “Ambitious.”

“She volunteers at Jackson Jones’s foundation. She’s more like Ben than she seems.”

My aunt didn’t look convinced. “Sometimes I think Ben got all the heart in that family.”

My fingers tingling, I jumped up and grabbed the baking sheets. I ran soapy water into her sink and scrubbed at the greasy residue and crusted-on cookie crumbs. No, Mimi had shown all kinds of heart last night, especially when she…

“Do you think I should tell her? About the—the kiss?” I almost didn’t believe it had happened. But I’d seen the proof this morning in the beard burn she’d tried to cover up with makeup. How had she forgotten? I’d never forget the way she pleaded my name just before her soft lips landed on mine. The taste of her—tequila, sweetness, and cinnamon—when I opened to her. The shape of her in my arms, all soft curves I wanted to trace with my hands and my tongue.

“Shouldn’t you?” Tía stepped up next to me at the sink and laid a hand on my back.

“No. Especially not after today. After I ruined her presentation.” The anger flashing in her eyes had cowed me. Angry Miriam Levy-Walters was fearsomely beautiful.

“You should make it up to her. Then you can tell her about last night.” She rubbed a circle on my back. “You’ve had so much sadness in your life, hijo. You deserve to find happiness. And if it’s Mimi you want, go for it. No one can resist your charm.”

“Mimi can,” I grumbled at a sticky spot on the last baking sheet.

“Turn it up a notch, then.”

“I can’t. Whenever I try, I fuck it up.” Like when I’d ripped her paper.

“Remember, she’s human, too. Not some saint above an altar.”

“Is she?” And I wasn’t completely kidding. “She works full time, plus she volunteers at the foundation. And she’s the smartest woman I’ve ever met.”

“You’re smart, too. You don’t have to have a fancy college degree to prove it. You take care of Miguelito and me.”

I snorted. “Lito can take care of himself. And Ben, too. And of course I take care of you. You’re my favorite tía.” And the closest thing to a parent I had left, I didn’t say. She knew.

“You’re a good boy. Worthy of her. Show her. Help her the way you help everyone else. So it didn’t go well today.” She shrugged. “Try again.”

I supposed I owed Mimi that after fucking up her presentation. “Okay. I will. Can I have some extra cookies, please?”

She reached into the drawer for a plastic container. “That’s my boy. Woo her with food.”

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