“Ay, Papá.” Joaquin drops himself into a chair next to me and wags a pan dulce in the direction of Ernesto. “You need to talk to Colin here about these jets they’re about to roll out. He was telling me about them last night.”
Ernesto arches one of his bushy, salt-and-pepper eyebrows at me with interest. “Oh yeah?”
“Oooh,” Graciela chimes in from the opposite end of the table. “I want to hear about the new jets, Colin.” She slaps Auggie’s arm, causing him to slosh his coffee. “Babe, don’t you think your grandpa would like to talk to Colin about some new jets for KE?”
I cast my eyes toward them because,Yeah, Auggie, don’t you think your grandpa would like some new jets?
Auggie gives an oblivious shrug. “I don’t know. Colin would have to askhim. I don’t know anything about KE’s jet situation.” He reaches into the inside pocket of his blazer to retrieve his wallet, and slips out a business card. “Here, Colin. Email me, and I’ll have my assistant set up a meeting with him,” he says off-handedly as he flicks the card across the glossy surface of the table.
I catch the card under my fingertips and inspect it before offering him a casual smile. “Will do.”
“Now, hang on,” Ernesto says, grabbing my shoulder again and directing my attention back to him. “I can’t have Kilgore getting in on new jets before I do.” He swipes the card out of my hand and gestures at me with it. “There is ahierarchywith UMG as the parent company. KE can’t get new jets before UMG does.” He raises his brows, and a frown tugs his bulldog jowls downward. “The last thing you want to do is piss me off, Colin. And that would definitely piss me off.”
I shake my head hastily. “No, sir. I have no intention of pissing you off. I thought of UMG immediately when I got the specs for these new machines two months ago. I know a major corporation and industry leader like yours requires the best, so you’re the first person I’ve spoken to about them.”
“Good, good.” Ernesto heaves a throaty chuckle and slaps my back with his mammoth hand again, an unspoken reminder that youdefinitelydon’t want to piss off Ernesto Reyes—even if you are his surrogate son. “Tell me about these jets.”
“Well.” I swallow a hefty amount of coffee and then fold my hands on the table in front of me. “The PA6500 is supposed to enter service late next year, but due to the precision and engineering involved in the new technology and accoutrements, we aren’t planning to build any until buyers commission them. We also aren’t making these available to just any buyers. To maintain the quality of manufacturing, these jets are made to order, and we control that through exclusivity. So, we have a waiting list in place for the general market, but we have a pre-approved list of buyers we’d like to invite to purchase first.” I turn my palm over in a gesture toward him. “UMG is at the top of it.”
Ernesto’s sepia-hued eyes glint. “Ah. I do like the sound of that.” He points his sausage-sized index finger at Auggie. “Where’s KE on the list?”
I cut a glance at Auggie, who’s checked out of this conversation and is shoveling a forkful of eggs into his mouth. “They’re actually not on it. We limited it to the top ten Global 500 companies.” Graciela purses her lips at me, and I clear my throat. “But they’re more than welcome to apply to be on the waiting list.”
Ernesto squints one eye at me as if weighing my words, and then offers another chuckle that shakes his hefty shoulders. “I like the sound of that even more.” He reaches to aggressively ruffle my hair like he has ever since I first encountered him when I was twelve years old. “I’ll tell you what,mijito.” He pushes back against the chair, stretching his back. “The seats in my Cessna just aren't cutting it with this old back of mine. I want your people to find me some really good seats to put in them. Ones with better lumbar support.” He rolls his head in a circle. “I can’t do these long flights without lumbar support anymore. I’m sure I’m not the only one on my team who feels that way.” He points at me. “You have any of the paperwork with you so I can get the ball rolling?”
I maintain a pleasant, neutral face, but inside, I’m punching the air.
I reallycouldsell a ketchup popsicle to a woman in white gloves.
I nod placidly. “I do. I’ve got everything on a tablet back in my room. We can take a look at it later this evening after the excitement dies down if that would work for you.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” Ernesto picks up his napkin and dabs his mouth before pushing away from the table. “Now, you’ll all have to excuse me if I’m going to get a decent nap in before the festivities begin.”
I lift my hand in a wave as he kisses Fortuna’s cheek and moseys out of the dining room.
Fortuna smiles after him as he leaves and then turns to me. “Where is Elle?”
“She’s still sleeping.” I pause and recall the fictional life Elle created for us yesterday. “We’re normally pretty lazy on Saturday mornings other than when I drag her out of bed to go to yoga in the park.”
Fortuna smiles warmly. “You two are sweet together.” She reaches across the table again to squeeze my hand. “I’m happy you found something good. I know things are difficult,cariño. They won’t always be that way. Archer will find his way. While he’s doing that, having someone like Elle to support you is invaluable.”
I want tocry.
Butcryinghas never done anything useful for me. Not when I was a kid getting smacked around or taking a blunt object to the ribs when my piece of shit father was high off his ass and pissed off. Not when my mother was passed out from God knows what and I couldn’t wake her up. Not when Archer and I went without eating for days on end because our parents were too blitzed to realize kids require food sometimes. Not when my dad wrapped his car around a telephone pole and killed them both. Not during any of the countless times I found Archer seizing amidst an accidental overdose.
Fuckcrying, and fuck my shitty fucking life.
The only thing that will do anything useful for me is the two-million-dollar commission I basically just nailed down. Because with my half of it, I can finally incentivize Archer’s sobriety in a way he won’t be able to resist.
They say an addict will only seek out recovery after they hit rock bottom, but Archer’s rock bottom seems to be literallydying,and I can’t have that. Even with as much of a thorn in my side as he is, I still love him. I don’t want to fail him any more than I already have. So I have to create a reason for him to want to recover, and that’s what the million dollars will facilitate.
“It is,” I agree, then brace myself to lie through my fucking teeth. “She takes really good care of me. I’m really lucky to have her.” I nod at the buffet behind Fortuna as I stand up from the table. “I’m going to take a plate of that to her, if that’s okay.” I offer a fake enamoured smile. “She loves getting surprised with breakfast in bed.”
Fortuna waves her hand. “¡Por supuesto!Take all you want. You can leave the dish in the kitchen over there and someone will pick it up later.”
Graciela snickers behind her coffee cup. “AwwwColin…You are so smitten. It’sadorable.”
“Yeah, you’reso adorable, Colin,” Joaquin coos through a mouthful of chilaquiles.
