Chapter One Enrique Montez bit into his carne guisada taco. The spices from the braised beef were cooled from the neutralizing dollop of fresh crema. "Thank God," Enrique said to his older brother, Ramón, gesturing across the table with the taco still in hand, "that this badass woman agreed to marry you." His future sister-in-law, Julieta Campos, had cooked a meal for her family and his brothers at their now weekly Sunday dinner in her restaurant, Las Pescas. Julieta and her mother, Linda, adored taking care of their loved ones, which now luckily included Enrique. Julieta's lips twisted in a wry smile. Ramón simply looked at her with eyes of love. "I thank God every day." He pressed a kiss to her hand, then looked back at Enrique. "But after putting up with you for the past twenty-eight years, I deserved a miracle." Enrique glared across the table at Ramón and his future bride. His brother whispered something into Julieta's ear, which caused her to giggle. Enrique rolled his eyes. He should simply be happy for his brother and his fiancée. Still, a brief stab of envy tore through him . . . "Man, you're so whipped. I'll never be like that." His younger brother, Jaime, rolled his eyes. "Yeah, because no one would deal with your weird bullshit. Do you have to do yoga on our deck every morning?" "Better than you flipping tires in our yard," Enrique retorted. Julieta's cousins Tiburón and Rosa laughed while Julieta's mother scooped out a huge portion of rice onto everyone's plates. What a trip to see the Montezes and the Camposes, formerly mortal enemies, breaking bread-well, more accurately, tearing tortillas-around the table. Notably absent, and most certainly not invited, was Enrique's father, Arturo. He'd begun the family feud decades ago when Arturo stole a fish taco recipe from Linda, his spring break fling. But Enrique was a peacemaker, and he hoped that even though his father's actions were unforgivable, one day, his father would repent and make amends with Linda, Julieta, and Ramón, though deep down he knew that with his father's deeply ingrained machismo, that fantasy happy ending was probably a pipe dream. Enrique's immediate concern was spending quality time in a warm family environment that he and his brothers had never known. This connection had already changed Ramón significantly. His elder brother had benefited in amazing ways, even though Enrique teased him. Ever since Ramón and Julieta had become engaged, his workaholic sibling was now all about the family life. Ramón spent his free time playing Lotería with Julieta's overbearing tías, and he'd started volunteering at the Barrio Logan College Institute in his newly adopted community. He even hosted the weekly La Vuelta Lowrider Cruise with Tiburón. Enrique studied Ramón, who had a big grin on his face. Enrique couldn't imagine being in such a committed relationship. Not until he struck out on his own and became something more than just the middle Montez brother. Ramón was the smartest, Jaime was the cutest, and Enrique was always the peacemaker. "¡Salud!" Linda held up her sangria, and everybody clinked glasses before continuing to eat. This was the life-family. All together. Exhaling a healing breath, Enrique reflected on how much he had changed in the past year. After the social media attention from their company's quest for gentefication turned ugly, Enrique spiraled into depression. He had spent the last several months working on himself . . . therapy, meditation, yoga. In the meantime, he would continue to work for the family business, though Enrique didn't have an extreme desire for wealth, like his father had, or like Ramón had once had, for that matter. Ramón used to be focused on the bottom line-growing their corporation's assets and increasing the profit margin. His plan was to buy the land where Julieta's restaurant was located and turn the beloved neighborhood into a gentrified street full of chain stores. But Julieta had exposed Ramón to the true cost of these acquisitions-hurting lively communities and real people. Ramón did the right thing and returned the land to Julieta's mom. And now, Ramón was a changed man-aware of the societal effects of their business deals. And all of the brothers finally knew what it was like to belong to their community. Enrique had never cared too much about money-he had seen the perils of that lifestyle early on, especially in his parents' relationship. They would spend lavishly on exotic vacations but couldn't stand to be in the same room together without fighting. And though they had enough wealth to comfortably provide for many generations to come, his father was always trying to expand the company. But all the money and success could never heal the deep wounds in their family. At least Enrique understood his father's drive. In fact, Enrique could feel that he himself had grown too comfortable. His job was beyond secure, but it no longer challenged him. In fact, nothing challenged him. Time to change that. Enrique clinked his glass with a fork, which caused Ramón to immediately kiss Julieta. Enrique smirked. "I thought the kiss after the glass clink was only for weddings." Ramón shrugged. "We're just practicing." "Get a room, you two." Tiburón threw a tortilla chip at Ramón and Julieta, which Ramón caught and then crushed in his hand. The warmth from their new family radiated throughout the restaurant-though maybe that was just the heat coming from the terra-cotta fireplace. Las Pescas was so magical, especially during the holiday season. Mariachi music played over the stereo, paintings from local vendors hung on the walls, the Talavera accents colorfully contrasted against the Saltillo tiles, and there was a Christmas tree in the corner, decorated with hand-painted ornaments created by local children. Enrique took a sip of his michelada. The spicy Tajín-coated rim drew fire to his lips, but the Clamato juice cooled off the heat. "I have an announcement." "What is it?" Ramón cocked his brow. Enrique's stomach knotted. He should've run his plan by his brother, who had become the CEO of the Montez Group after he'd ousted their father. But for once, Enrique didn't want to ask permission from anyone to do anything. He wanted to be his own man-out of the shadow of his father and brother-and his idea was sound. If the Montez Group contracted their produce through farms that had track records of treating their employees fairly, they could truly make a difference in their community-not to mention, do the right thing. Enrique was no prodigal son-that title definitely went to Jaime-but even so, Enrique could never top Ramón's two Ivy League degrees, and now his engagement to the beautiful and talented Julieta. Not that Enrique was any slouch-no, quite the contrary. Enrique didn't want to compete with his brother; he had never even applied to Stanford and was more than happy to spend his college years surfing at Cal Poly San Luis Obispo. The eco-conscious atmosphere that he had immersed himself in when he was there called to him now, which was why he knew it was time to go and spend some time on the Central California Coast. "I'm heading up to Santa Barbara for the holidays. I arranged a meeting with a farmer up in nearby Santa Maria." He glanced around at his brothers. Ramón squinted his eyes, which now had lines around them, and Jaime's baby face contorted. Ramón didn't waste any time. "A farmer? But why? We're already contracted with enough farms." "I know, but we need to reassess all of our agricultural relationships. I want us to contract with ethical operations only. The owner of this farm is amazing. She used to work on the farm herself with her parents and recently acquired it when it went up for sale. She raised the money through speaking engagements around the country and educating others about farmworkers' rights. She was just named one of Time magazine's most influential Hispanics." Julieta opened her mouth. "Can we please use the word Latines? It's more inclusive." Jesus. "Not the point. I'm not going to get into the Latino/Latine/Latinx/Hispanic semantics game." "She?" Rosa asked, curiosity lacing her voice. Rosa was pretty and strong, like her cousin. "Yes, she. Carolina Flores is one of the top female farmers in the state. She owns Flores Family Farm in Santa Maria. Make that one of the top farmers, period." Jaime looked up from scrolling through his phone. "Carolina Flores? Isn't she the girl who had those viral graduation photos in the strawberry patch?" Enrique nodded. "That's the one." Tiburón interjected himself. "Flores? Any relation to Señora Flores at the café next door?" Julieta rubbed her fiancé's arm. "Yeah. Luísa Flores is her aunt, but from what she told me, she isn't close to them." Enrique scratched his chin. "Really? I didn't know that." He had met Señora Flores many times-he was a sucker for her freshly baked conchas-but he had no idea she was related to Carolina. Ramón pursed his lips and glared intently at his brother. "Okay, I thought we talked about this. You know Apá reached out to her father a couple of years ago with disastrous consequences when the Flores family bought the farm. Victor Flores does not want to distribute to us." Enrique smirked. "Right, you told me that, but it's his daughter's farm, not his." Tiburón chuckled. Enrique glared at him. "Something funny?" "Nope. Just that you clearly don't understand the dynamic of a traditional first-generation Mexican family. It doesn't matter if she owns it, not him. He's her papá." Enrique gulped. Nothing was more accurate. He was a third-generation Mexican-American. He didn't have a clue what it was like to be raised in his culture. "True, I don't. But she seems to be a savvy businesswoman. And Señor Flores said no when he only knew Papá. He doesn't know us, and I arranged a meeting with her, not him. She's in charge now, though you're right-he could still be involved in the decision-making. And you only talked to him on the phone. Ramón, I've done my research. Señor Flores is a family man-he's old-school. He's nothing like Apá, and neither are we. I'm going to go there in person, spend some time with her, get them to trust us. And Carolina wrote me a nice email back. She invited us to her farm. Maybe she will accept our proposal with her father's approval. The options are endless." "Options?" Julieta rolled her eyes. "What's your plan? Start contracting with them and then buy out their farm like you bought our block?" Enrique gritted his teeth, but at least her tone was teasing, not serious. Ramón pinched Julieta. "Come on, babe. I made it right, didn't I?" "Yes, you did." She scrunched her face, and she and Ramón rubbed noses. Another wave of uneasiness hit Enrique. He couldn't imagine being so in love that he would be so affectionate in public. Jaime tossed a bacon-wrapped, chorizo-stuffed jalapeño popper drenched in chipotle crema into his mouth. "I'll come with you. I love Santa Barbara. We can stay at Apá's house in Montecito for Christmas." Enrique shook his head. Nope. Montecito was the celebrity enclave of Santa Barbara, and definitely not his scene. Enrique had already rented a hotel room on West Beach near downtown because he had no desire to stay at their father's vacation home, though he loved the view and the beach access. Why did his father need another home in the middle of the state? Apá had bought it when Enrique had been accepted to Cal Poly. He had claimed it was an investment, but keeping a multimillion-dollar estate empty seemed ridiculous. If Enrique had the opportunity to get to know Carolina, he did not want her to realize his father just wasted money, especially because she came from such humble beginnings. But the house wasn't even half the problem. Enrique didn't want his baby brother tagging along. This was a serious trip for Enrique to make a name for himself in the company without his brothers, without his father. The last thing he needed was Jaime nagging him to go party every night and hitting on one of Señor Flores's ten daughters-especially Carolina. What an impressive woman she was. She had worked on the farm her entire life while maintaining a top grade point average and dancing with the local Ballet Folklórico group. Her parents had taken her with them every day to pick berries in the fields-rain or shine, no matter if they were scorched by the rays of the sun or frozen by the chill of the night. She would work in the evenings until the wee hours, sleep for a brief time, wake up, and go back to school. She was accepted to Cal Poly San Luis Obispo, which was no easy task. For college graduation, she had hired a photographer to take pictures of herself in her cap and gown, picking produce with her parents to honor their hard work and sacrifices. When her sister Blanca had posted them online, those photos went viral. The media attention had catapulted her career and made her an in-demand speaker at Hispanic events around the United States. And when her farm was for sale a couple of years ago, she'd raised enough money to buy it. Enrique was in complete awe of her. But she had a complex reputation around the farm-owning community. She definitely treated her employees right, but there had been rumblings that she was ruthless. A shrew . . . d businesswoman. That she didn't hesitate to tell off distributors or fire long-term staff members who weren't pulling their weight. Enrique didn't believe any of that nonsense. When Ramón was cutthroat in his business, people hailed him, not demonized him. How misogynistic and frankly racist for these rich non-Hispanic farm owners to give a hard time to one of the only Mexican-American female proprietors in the state, or in the country, for that matter. Enrique had seen a picture of the entire family on the Flores Family Farm website. All the daughters were beautiful, especially Carolina. Her long, dark curly hair, huge brown eyes, and those curves. Man. But no matter how smart, successful, and sexy Carolina was, Enrique was not interested in her romantically. At all. Enrique had learned his lesson from Ramón about mixing business with pleasure. Sure, his brother's story had a happy ending, but Enrique was certain that was due to luck more than anything. "I know a great club in Santa Barbara," Rosa said, tugging on her cousin Tiburón's arm. "Perhaps we could come for a short visit and show you." Tiburón gave a fist bump to his prima. Enrique shook his head. "No thanks, guys. I'll do this one on my own." Excerpted from Kiss Me, Mi Amor by Alana Quintana Albertson All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
