Sensation by Ofelia Martinez

Author:Ofelia Martinez
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ofelia Martinez

CHAPTER 22

Though I’m little help with the actual cooking part of things, I can set a table like a boss, if I do say so myself. And I’m not too shabby with plating beautiful dishes.

My heart is almost as full as this table this Christmas Eve, surrounded by all the people I hold dearest in my life.

René, Oscar, Carolina, Devyn, and Doña Pancha all wait patiently while Don Gustavo, Ramiro, and I bring the food out to the table. They are polite enough not to comment when Don Gustavo scolds me as I try to help and only get in the way.

I may have gone a little overboard with the Christmas decorations, because there’s hardly room at the table for the plates with the oversized centerpiece of poinsettias and candles.

As Ramiro sets the cranberry sauce down and pivots to turn around again, everyone yells “Watch out—!”

But it’s too late. I am right behind him, holding a pitcher of ponche. He runs into me, and not wanting to let go of the pitcher in my hands, I lose my balance. Ramiro stills me with me with firm hands around my shoulders. The pitcher sloshes between us, and some of it spritzes on Ramiro’s face.

Oscar and René burst into laughter, and Don Gustavo runs out of the kitchen, waving his spatula in the air, worried about what I may have dropped.

“Nothing. It’s fine, Don Gustavo,” Ramiro says through the laughter.

“Oh my god, I got punch all over your face. Hold on. Let me get that before it splashes on your shirt and ruins it.” I know Ramiro owns precious few dress shirts, and I don’t want to ruin his best one—a crimson button-up he has rolled up to his thick forearms. I’m still laughing when I grab a napkin from the table and wipe his cheek and jaw. Freshly shaved, his skin is perfectly smooth as I hold his jaw in place with one hand to clean him up. “You should still wash up or you’ll feel sticky.”

“Yeah, all right,” he says, shaking his head and laughing as he heads to the restroom.

“Well, that was a close call,” I say, and look at everyone around the table. All of them coming down from the laughter and smiling.

All but two.

Carolina and Devyn.

Carolina is looking at me like a cat that just got a big bowl of cream.

And Devyn looks … stunned. Both his hands rest over the table, fingers spread wide, doing his best not to bunch his fists. I can tell.

I throw him a questioning look, trying to ask telepathically what’s wrong, but then Doña Pancha asks him something, refocusing his attention, and the moment passes, so I head back to the kitchen for more dishes—like the chicken that I am.

Don Gustavo smoked a turkey as the main dish. He also spent the morning making handmade flour tortillas. I’m grateful for the diverse menu of side dishes he has planned, all things Devyn can enjoy: stuffed mushrooms, buttered corn, and roasted vegetables.

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