Page 49 of Winning Match
“Nope.” I shake my head, pointing at his outdoor setup. “This is my first time. I’ve never seen a pan like this.”
Beside me, Alejandro relaxes, giving a slight squeeze of his hand to let me know I’ve got this.
Mr. García shifts on his feet. “It’s called a paellera,” he explains. “The trick is not to stir after you add the rice.” He points to the pan. “We want the bottom to be a nice, crispy, golden brown. This is called the socarrat. If we burn it…” He trails off, shaking his head. Then he looks up sharply. “Do you like rabbit?”
My stomach tightens at the question. I’ve never had rabbit before, but at the gleam in Mr. García’s eyes, I know it’s a test of some sort.
Alejandro’s face has paled, and I almost laugh at the flicker of panic in his eyes.
I press his fingertips gently. “I’m not sure; I’ve never had that either. But I’m always eager to try new things. Are you adding rabbit to the paella?”
“It’s part of the traditional, authentic, recipe, sí,” Mr. García explains, his mouth doing that half smirk that Ale’s does. The one where they try not to smile. I wonder if Ale knows he inherited that from his father? “And this is the birthplace of paella. Paella Valenciana is the real paella.”
“Well, then I look forward to trying it. It smells delicious,” I say smoothly.
Mr. García snorts quietly. “We will eat in two hours.”
“Do you want to see the beach?” Alejandro asks, tugging on my hand.
“Sure,” I agree, smiling at Mr. García.
He dips his chin in the slightest sign of approval before Alejandro guides me past the swimming pool and toward the stretch of sand.
“My papá likes you,” he says softly, surprised.
“How can you tell?”
“Trust me; I know him well.”
I dip my head in agreement. “Yeah, well, most parents like me.”
Ale shoots me a grin. “Cocky, are you?”
“Hardly. But in the parental department, I check all the boxes. In the peer category…”
“What?”
I shake my head. “I never click. Never quite fit in.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Well, it’s the truth. My college roommate, Hazel, is my only real friend my age and I never see her. She moved to California after graduation, and we only talk a few times a year. Now, it’s just me, Grandpa, and the Sewing Circle.”
He bumps his shoulder next to mine. “And Bianca?”
I glance up and nod. “Yes. And Bianca.” It’s been a relief to discover a friend in his teammate’s sister. “She’s made my transition here seamless.”
“I’m glad. I was worried…” He stops walking and stares out to the sea. Dropping my hand, he slides his hands into his pockets and shrugs. “I didn’t know how this would go between us, Marlowe. So many changes in such a short time. We’re getting to know each other, becoming friends. And soon, I’m leaving for a week. I don’t want you to feel… I don’t know, abandoned? Anything you need, you can call me at any time. But it puts my mind at ease that you’re with Bianca.”
I stare at him, studying his profile. The character in his nose, the strength of his jaw, the perfect ridge of his cheekbone. “I didn’t realize you worried about me.”
He glances over, smirking slightly. “All the goddamn time.” He narrows his eyes as something catches his attention. Then, he snorts. “Abuela is summoning us.”
I turn to see his grandmother calling us over by waving a bright, floral-patterned silk scarf in the air like she’s performing a routine in ribbon gymnastics. I chuckle and step in her direction. “What do you think she’s calling us for?”
“Knowing her? Cocktails.”
I laugh again, feeling a kindred spirit in Alejandro’s abuela.
