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“I heard about that,” Marisol admitted with a wince. “Ricky caught a bunch of old biddies gossiping when he went to grab me a cupcake.”
“See!” she pointed out, feeling even worse after hearing that. “I may as well have a big red A on my chest!”
“Wouldn’t it be three A’s?” Marisol teased with a goofy smile on her face. “One for each hottie you—”
“What’s with the yelling?” Ricky interrupted abruptly, popping through the big swinging door that led to the kitchen. He surveyed the small dining room. “I need to take care of someone?”
“Dear lordt,” Elena groaned, covering her eyes. If her bestie was about to murder her dumbass brother, she didn’t want to be called as a witness.
“Put that away!” Marisol snapped as her brother spun one of his knives around with a flourish. “And go back to the kitchen.”
“Run, Ricky,” Elena encouraged with a wave of her hands when he seemed to resist his sister’s orders. “Run while you can.”
“Oooof!”
“Too late,” she said, unable to keep from grimacing as the siblings went head-to-head. Marisol used her entire body, sharp elbows and all, to push him back through the door as he attempted to brace himself with a grumble.
“Damn, Sis,” he grunted as he slowly disappeared into the kitchen. “Ouch! Nopeenching!”
Elena bit her lip to keep from laughing as the siblings continued to annoy the fuck out of each other. It was only a few more seconds before Marisol won, successfully shoving Ricky past the threshold with a whoop of victory.
“Why you gotta be like that?” he yelled as the kitchen door swung back and forth between them.
“I told you before not to come up here twirling your knife,” Marisol hollered as she walked back to the register. “It scares the normals.”
“We’re not normal?” Elena asked her friend with a grin.
“Ummm…my family’s crazy and you have three boyfriends,” Marisol reminded her with an are-you-kidding-me look.
“I don’t have three boyfriends,” she argued, her stomach twisting at the lie.
Her best friend just stared at her silently, giving her a look she was more than familiar with.
“Okay fine,” Elena relented, her head falling back on her shoulders as she tried to figure out the best way to lay it all out. “I have three boyfriends—I think. I mean, we kiss and stuff, but we’ve never actually had ‘the’ talk. They’re just like…there.”
“Kiss and stuff?” Marisol repeated with raised brows as she leaned forward. “Tell me more.”
“Ugh!” Elena groaned, dropping her head back to the counter.
“You’re going to have a big bruise on your forehead if you keep that up.”
“I know,” she grumbled. There was probably already a mark there. “It doesn’t matter anyways. I can’t keep seeing them.”
“Why not?”
She pushed herself up from the counter. “Were you not here for the conversation we just had?”
“About the three scarlet A’s?” Marisol propped her shoulder against the wall that held their taco shop t-shirts. “Fuck those people. Who cares what they think?”
“I don’t,” she assured her friend with a shake of her head. “People have always had something to say about me, I’m used to it. This is different.”
“Don’t b—”
“It’s been slow before, Sol.” Elena waved a hand at the empty seats. The place was a ghost town. “But it’sneverbeen this slow. We haven’t even made enough this week to cover my part-time check.
Marisol winced but stayed silent. There was no arguing against the truth.
“Customers are avoiding this place because of me.”
