Page 28 of White Wedding
“With the tables in place, up to three hundred. The wedding’s at two hundred guests right now, so there’ll be lots of room. But I’ll need a full crew. These people are expecting excellent service.” Rafael’s chest swelled with pride. It felt good to be running the show.
“No kidding,” Tony said. “Ernesto told me the groom’s dad is Senator Macalister.”
Rafael pointed to the design sheet with Missy’s sketches. “Check this out. The bride is ordering twenty fresh Christmas trees, and she wants them all decorated. I’m going to recruit Araceli and Nena to help out.”
“Luz could help, too. She and her sister love that shit.” Martin reviewed the photos one by one. When he was done, he picked up the spec sheet from the table. After looking it over, he passed it to Tony. Neither of them spoke.
Rafael waited, unnerved by the lengthy silence. He took another cookie but stopped mid-bite when he caught Martin giving Tony a sidelong look. “What’s wrong?”
Martin closed his laptop. “This is a huge job. Bigger than I realized. It might be better if Tony took over.”
For a moment, Rafael couldn’t speak. A mixture of anger and hurt surged through him. After begging him to do the job, now they were second-guessing him?
He turned on Tony. “You’d poach my gig? What about your wedding in San Ysidro?”
Tony held up his hands. Of the three of them, he had the most chill. Whenever Martin and Rafael clashed, he could be counted on to serve as the peacemaker. “Relax. No one’s poaching anything. We’d just swap events. My wedding’s a lot smaller. Eighty people, tops. And we know the bride’s family, so there’s less pressure.”
His rationale made sense, but Rafael was stung by Martin’s lack of faith in him. He scowled at his oldest brother. “You knew the guest list was two hundred people, right from the start. What happened to ‘I have total faith in you, little brother’?”
“On Friday, you were begging me to take your place,” Martin said.
True enough, but Rafael had risen to the challenge. Even if the bride-to-be had thrown up at the tasting, his food had still won her over. And Victoria had been thrilled when he offered to help tackle all of Missy’s demands.
“You told me I was ready for more responsibility.” Rafael tried to think of an argument that would sway his brother. “Victoria seemed to think I could handle it.”
As soon as he said it, he knew he’d made a mistake. He swallowed the rest of his cookie, but it didn’t help the churning sensation in his stomach.
“By Victoria, I presume you mean Victoria Blackwood?” Martin said. “Is that what this is about? You want to get into her pants?”
Rafael took a deep breath. If he got too defensive, his brothers would suspect the worst. “I felt sorry for her because she’s under a lot of pressure. I offered to help her any way I could.”
Martin groaned and rubbed his forehead.
“What?” Rafael said.
“I see where this is going,” Martin said. “Next, you’re going to tell me there was an unbelievable spark between the two of you and that she’s into you. You can’t be pulling that lady-killer shit with Victoria Blackwood.”
Even though there had been a spark—especially at the end of the tour—Rafael would hold his hand over a searing-hot range rather than admit it. “Why are you busting my balls? I’m not about that anymore.”
Though he’d gone through a wild phase during his teens and gotten into a few dicey situations when he lived in San Diego, he’d changed his ways when he moved back home to Escondido and joined his brothers’ catering company.
Except for the shit with Sandra.
He should have known better, but his dick had gotten the best of him. He’d been bartending at a rehearsal dinner his brothers were catering. The clients were a family they’d known for years, active in the Latino community in Escondido. Every time the bride’s younger sister, Sandra, came up to the bar, she flirted with him shamelessly.
After dinner ended, she sought him out alone. Though Martin had warned him not to mix business with pleasure, Rafael couldn’t resist. Sandra was sizzling hot, single, and clearly into him. She was so eager that they ended up having hot, furtive sex in the supply closet.
But as they stumbled out of the closet, their hair and clothing still askew, they ran smack into Sandra’s parents. Not only were they furious at Rafael for taking advantage of their youngest daughter, but they also accused his brothers of running an unprofessional business. Martin soothed their anger by refunding them thirty percent of their bill, but he fumed about it for months.
Since then, Rafael had behaved himself. No messing up on the job. If he hooked up with anyone, he kept it quiet. He made sure his sex life never interfered with his work life.
He stewed in silence as his brothers exchanged glances. To be fair, Tony’s offer made sense. The wedding in San Ysidro was the same size as Araceli’s. Far less intimidating than a two-hundred-person extravaganza in the grand ballroom of an historic mansion.
But he wanted to prove himself to his brothers. And—if he was being honest—he wanted to show Victoria what he was capable of.
“It’s been two years since I messed up with Sandra,” he said. “Isn’t it about time you gave me another chance?”
Martin let out his breath. “Fine. You can stay on as lead caterer, but I want Tony there on the night of the event. We’ll put Uncle D in charge of the San Ysidro wedding.”
