Page 118 of Forget Me

EPILOGUE

MIMI

6 MONTHS LATER

I was late.

Impossibly, inhospitably, terrifyingly late. Dinner-well-after-sunset late. Better-order-pizza late. Might-as-well-give-up-now-and-hide-under-the-covers late.

I ran up the stairs to my apartment, the bag with the challah in it bumping against my leg. Someone on the hall was cooking something delicious. I should ask them if they had enough to spare for seven more guests.

Seven! Why the hell had I thought it was a good idea to host Friday-night dinner in my tiny apartment?

Because it was my turn. Mom and Dad had hosted it forever. Even Ben and Cooper had hosted it once.

Me? I always had an excuse.

Fine, the excuse was always work.

Unraveling the disaster Larissa had left at the foundation was taking more effort than I’d ever dreamed. At least once a week, one of her former associates came by, looking for a kickback or a payment for something—they never told me exactly for what.

I always told them we were running the foundation differently these days. Then I told them about our mission until they got bored and left.

Sometimes they left a little cash for the kids. That made me smile.

Though not as much as today’s big donation. I couldn’t wait to tell everyone about it. When they got here in—I checked my phone—half an hour. Shit!

I unlocked the door and shoved it open.

That’s when I discovered the delicious smell was coming from my apartment.

I rushed into the kitchen, where I found Mateo and his aunt Rosa bent over the oven. The savory, mouthwatering aroma unfurled from my oven. The one that hadn’t baked anything except sugar cookies from a tube in weeks.

“Um, hi,” I said loudly enough to be heard over the range fan.

Mateo whirled to face me. He and his aunt wore white aprons. Did I own white aprons? Hell, any aprons at all? I didn’t think so.

“Mi vida.” He held out his arms to me, and I stepped into his embrace. He smelled like roasted meat and potatoes and allspice.

“I—what’s going on?”

“We came over early to help, but you weren’t here, so we started without you.”

“You are the best.” I tilted my face up for a kiss. “I love you.”

His kiss was closed-mouthed, PG-rated for his aunt, but it carried warmth and care and a promise oflater.His massive hands rested on my lower back, holding me in place. He needed a moment of reconnection, and I was happy to share it with him.

He nuzzled my cheek. “I love you, too.”

His voice, rumbling through his chest, gave me tingles in a place that made me wish his aunt wasn’t standing next to us.

I turned in his arms, not quite ready to break our connection. “Thank you, Rosa. It smells delicious.”

“You’re welcome, cariño.” She leaned over and kissed my right cheek. “Mateo said you planned to make brisket and potatoes. I hope you don’t mind that I gave it a little flavor.”

The allspice. And…hot peppers. What would Mom say?

Who cared? “It smells fantastic.”

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