She was happy to meet Elena’s family, but she hated being set up. It only led to awkwardness andembarrassment.
Elena shepherded her through the party to a back room away from the music, where a tiny old woman sat in a recliner, a crocheted shawl around her shoulders. She spoke to the woman in Spanish, gesturing towardMia.
The old woman’s face lit up, and she reached out with a bonyhand.
Mia understood only a few words—abuelita,capitán,Irak. She took the old woman’s hand, held it between her own. “Your granddaughter is an excellent soldier. You must be so happy to have herhome.”
Elena repeated what Mia had said inSpanish.
“Sí, sí.” The old woman nodded, brown eyes shining. Then she said something Mia couldn’tunderstand.
Elena translated. “She thanks you for training me well and watching overme.”
“It was my honor.” Mia had helped Elena get her boots solidly on the ground before resigning her commission and leaving theArmy.
The conversation was repeated with Elena’s parents, who came in from the kitchen when they sawMia.
Aleta, Elena’s mother, hugged Mia and thanked her. “I know what you taught her helped keep her safe. You are always welcome in ourhome.”
“Thank you,ma’am.”
“Come and get something to eat.” Aleta gestured toward thekitchen.
But Elena tugged on Mia’s arm. “I want her to meetQuino.”
There was no rush as far as Mia was concerned, but Elena was clearly set on making this introduction. Mia followed her through a laundry room and down some stairs into what must have once been a garage but was now an extra living room. Young people danced, laughed, talked, some in English, some inSpanish.
Then Mia sawhim.
Out in the middle of the floor, a man danced salsa with a young woman, his body moving with a sensuality that made it impossible for Mia to lookaway.
Just…Wow.
Mia’s mouthwatered.
“Quino!” Elena shouted out for him. “Joaquin!”
Thatwas hercousin?
Goodgrief!
Mia felt an impulse to run, but stayed, as if rooted to thefloor.
The man turned, a smile on his face, and blood rushed to Mia’shead.
Oh,God.
The damnedphotographer.
* * *
Joaquin lefthis cousin María on the dance floor, confused to seeherhere at his aunt and uncle’s place. “Ms.Starr.”
She stared at him with wide blue eyes, color rushing into her cheeks. It wasn’t a blush. She was pissed. “You.”
He’d thought her striking last night, buttonight…
Madre deDios.