South Beach Love

  Table Of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Epilogue

  Tres Leches Cake with Banana and Coconut

  About the Author

  South Beach Love

  Copyright © 2021 Caridad Piñeiro

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereinafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Print ISBN 978-1-947892-83-5

  eBook ISBN 978-1-947892-84-2

  www.hallmarkpublishing.com

  Chapter 1

  New York City

  The city bus hit a pothole and sent a tsunami of dirty rainwater rushing toward the pedestrians at the curb.

  Tony Sanchez dodged and jumped to try to evade the wave but failed miserably. He stared down at the splotches of nasty brown and black on his freshly laundered jeans and hoped the rest of his day wouldn’t be as horrible.

  Shrugging deeper into the shearling collar of his leather jacket to battle the damp bite of the late spring day, Tony hurried down Park Avenue toward his Chelsea restaurant. He had been up at the Hunts Point Produce Terminal Market at the crack of dawn to select only the finest fruits and vegetables so he could plan the menus for the next few days.

  As he walked, his sneakers squished noisily, soaked by the heavy rain that not even an umbrella could keep at bay. His wet jeans clung to his legs and chilled him to the bone. A stinging breeze rushed eastward on 23rd Street from Waterside Park and hit his face like tiny ice needles. He shivered with the wet cold and yearned for the warm summer days that still seemed so far away.

  It had been a difficult winter and spring both personally and professionally. His longtime girlfriend, a fellow chef, had walked out on him, claiming that he spent more time at work than he did with her. He couldn’t argue with her. Work had dominated his life lately because he’d suffered an assortment of setbacks at his restaurant. But even if work hadn’t commanded so much of his time, it had been rough being involved with another chef. There had been too much professional rivalry between them, and both of their long hours had made the relationship difficult. It made him wonder if he could ever find a woman who would be able to deal with the life he led. A woman who would be strong enough to be at his side and help build a family.

  He shook off the gloomy thoughts and rushed the last few steps to his place. The wintry wind chased him into the restaurant, but he shoved the door closed and shook the rain off his coat and umbrella. The musical clang of pots and pans and animated chatter coming from the kitchen announced that his crew was already hard at work. It pulled a broad smile from him and dispelled any lingering negativity from his earlier thoughts.

  He pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen where his sous and station chefs and the rest of his staff were busy prepping all that they’d need for that day’s meals including the stocks and sauces that were essentials for the various dishes they prepared. When he entered, heads shot up and several people shouted out greetings to him, but others just grimaced and buried their heads in their work. He understood. He’d been tough on them lately. Maybe tougher than he should have been.

  He smiled and waved a greeting, but then grew serious once more when he entered his office and eyed the foot-high pile of paperwork stacked in the center of his desk.

  “Why does it seem that the stack grew from last night?” he murmured to himself and hurried to the small closet at one side of the room where he kept an extra set of street clothes and his chef’s garb. He always kept a change of clothes handy, because you never knew what might happen in the kitchen.

  Tony peeled off his wet clothes and slipped into his chef’s duds, hoping that he’d be able to get into the kitchen today—something that hadn’t happened a lot lately, with all the administrative obligations of running the restaurant. Changes in minimum wages, an increase in his rent, and the fact that he was no longer that week’s celebrity chef had all contributed to lower profits at the restaurant and more work for him to keep things running smoothly.

  He waded through the papers in the pile to triage what needed immediate attention and what could wait until tomorrow. Just below the first few bills lay a thick envelope with his name elegantly lettered in hand-scripted calligraphy. The return address was his sister’s and he wondered what was inside.

  A faux wax seal on the other side bore an ornate R for his sister’s married surname and he opened the envelope to reveal a liner in pale peach dusted with glitter that spilled out and anointed his desk with sparkle. Not his conservative lawyer sister’s usual tastes, but as he removed the invitation he realized why.

  “What’s with the glitter, jefe?” his sous chef Amanda asked as she entered his office.

  “It came in an invitation to my niece Angelica’s quinceañera.” Tony held the card out so Amanda could read it.

  “Whoa, very fancy. This is one of those high-end hotels in South Beach, isn’t it?”

  “It is. My sister does everything big. He also knew that Sylvia, a perfectionist, would put on quite an amazing event.

  “You’ll have a nice time then.” Amanda handed him back the invite.

  Tony drew in a long breath and nodded. “Thanks. How can I help you?”

  Amanda smiled. “Just wanted to confirm we got the meat shipment you ordered, and everything is good. No issues, like last time.”

  “Awesome. Thank you,” he said. When Amanda left, he set the invitation aside and got to work, although he was distracted with thoughts on how he’d take the time off.

  By late afternoon and well past the lunch rush, Tony had dealt with the most urgent matters on his plate. He was about to head into the kitchen to see how lunch clean-up and dinner prep were going when his cell phone blared out conga beats to trumpet: his sister’s ringtone. Since he hadn’t spoken to her in close to two weeks and he was sure she was calling about the invitation, he swiped and answered. “Sylvita, como estas?”

  A heavy sigh escaped her as she said, “I could be doing better, hermanito.”

  Hermanito. “Little bro,” only he wasn’t so little anymore—not that Sylvia got that. To him, she would always be the little brother she bossed around. Before he could reply, Sylvia barged right on. “You know it’s Angelica’s quinceañera in a little over two months, right? You did open the invite, didn’t you? Or is it still sitting in a pile of papers on your desk?”

  Guilt the likes of which o
nly family could rouse swamped him. “Of course, I got it and opened it, hermanita. Hard to believe she’s growing up so fast,” he said. His niece Angelica was a good kid who, as he recalled, played a mean game of dominos. He had always loved spending time with her.

  “She is growing up way too fast. You’d know that if you and Javi visited. What’s it been? Three years since you came down?” she said, piling on more guilt. At least this load wasn’t his alone. She’d do the same to their older brother Javier who had spent even less time with the family in recent years thanks to the obligations of his tech start-up on the West Coast.

  “I know I haven’t been good about visiting—”

  “And mami and papi miss you so much. Our parents aren’t getting any younger, you know,” Sylvia said. In his mind’s eye he pictured them and his siblings. They’d always been so close, but for the past few years….

  “I’ll try, Sylvita. I’d like to see everyone.”

  His words were followed by a long silence before his sister blurted out, “I need your help, Tony. This event is really, really, important to Angelica and to the family.”

  There was a tone in his sister’s voice he rarely heard. Desperation.

  “Is everything okay, hermanita?” he asked, worry replacing guilt.

  He could picture her shrug as she said, “This quince is a big deal, and it’s not just about celebrating Angelica becoming a woman. Esteban’s real estate business could use a boost and a lot of Miami’s elite are coming to the party. We need to make the meal something really special and I know you can do that,” Sylvia said. His heart warmed a little at the confidence in her tone, her faith in his cooking.

  “You want me to help? Like plan the menu? Cook?” Tony asked, wanting to be absolutely certain about what his sister was asking.

  “Sí. I know you’re the only one who can do it right. And handling the food would mean you’d have to come in early. You could take some time off and visit—maybe stay for the month. See mami and papi. Get to know your nieces and nephews better. Before you know it, they’ll be all grown up and gone.”

  His sister was laying on the guilt in layers as thick as frosting on a cake, and he couldn’t deny that it had him wanting to give in. But he had so much to do at the restaurant that he wasn’t sure he could swing it. So much to do, like the paperwork I hate?

  “Por favor, Antonio,” his sister pleaded which surprised him. She wasn’t normally the type to beg.

  “I’m not sure I can take that much time off,” he said, thinking about all the work he’d have to do before he left and all that would be waiting for him once he returned.

  With an exasperated sigh, Sylvia said, “You and Javi. It’s like herding cats to get both of you to come home.”

  “Is Javi going to the quince?” He couldn’t remember the last time that Javi had visited Miami or for that matter, come East.

  “It sounded like he was, but you know Javi. Absent-minded genius.”

  “Workaholic,” he added.

  “Just like the two of us, hermanito. We’re all overachievers,” Sylvia said and they both laughed. He missed how they could laugh together. Fight together. He just plain missed her. His parents. His old friends.

  “I can’t make any promises, but let me think about it, okay? Regardless of whether I come in early to handle the menu, I’ll be there for the party.” It was the least he could do. The very least—which again roused guilt. Sylvia wasn’t the kind to ask for help and that she was doing so was quite telling.

  “I’ll take that...for now. Hasta luego.”

  Knowing Sylvia, she’d be calling again tomorrow for a more definitive answer, but by then he hoped he’d be able to figure out whether he could take the time off to help her out. And if he couldn’t, how to say “No” without starting a family war.

  Sara’s brother handed her the last of that week’s meat order along with a receipt for the purchase. “I think that’s it for now.”

  She peered at the sealed tray holding the lollipop lamb chops and smiled. “Tell Manny he’s the best. These chops are gorgeous. Perfectly butchered.”

  Matt grinned and chuckled. “That’s why he loves you, Sara. Which reminds me—I forgot something for you. Be back in a little bit.”

  As Matt hurried from the room, Sara placed the lamb on a shelf in the walk-in refrigerator at the back of her restaurant’s kitchen and slipped the receipt into her apron pocket. Hands on her hips, she glanced around at the fully-stocked shelves and an immense grin erupted on her face. When she and her partner had first opened their restaurant two years ago, they’d barely been able to afford enough product to put together a menu every day, but with the restaurant’s quickly growing clientele that had all changed. In fact, the business was going so well that she hoped to either expand the space or find a bigger one. They had even talked about the possibility of opening a second location.

  “Don’t you look pleased with yourself?” Matt teased and handed her a package wrapped in butcher’s paper and tied with twine.

  “I most certainly am. Just look at all this,” she said as she accepted the bundle from her brother. From the familiar shape beneath the wrapping, she immediately knew what it was. “A tomahawk steak? For me?” she said and at her brother’s nod, added, “That’s a lot of meat for just one person to eat.”

  Matt wrapped an arm around his sister’s shoulder. “If you want, I know a few guys who’d love to share it with you.”

  Sara rolled her eyes. “Always matchmaking, but no thanks, bro. I’m just way too busy lately.” The restaurant demanded most of her attention, so she barely had time for a personal life. She had friends and family, but still…once in a while, she was lonely.

  “All work and no play, Sara,” Matt warned and hugged her hard.

  “I’ll survive. Anything new with you?”

  “Since three days ago? Same ol’ same ol’.” As they walked out of the refrigerator and headed to Sara’s office, Matt added, “But I may have found a place for that party that Dolores is insisting on.”

  “The quinceañera? Is that what it’s called?” Her sister-in-law Dolores had mentioned it when she’d gone to her brother’s for Sunday dinner.

  “That’s it. The quinceañera. Sweet fifteen to me.”

  Sara could tell her brother wasn’t quite buying into the whole idea, but she could understand why it was such a big deal for her sister-in-law.

  “Dolores’s family lost so much when they came here from Cuba,” she reminded him. “It’s important to her to keep her traditions alive—and this sounds to me like a fun one.”

  She sat behind her desk and Matt plopped into the chair across from her. “You mean an expensive one, don’t you? And Samantha is inviting a lot of kids from that fancy prep school she’s going to –”

  “On a scholarship since she’s so smart, just like her aunt,” she teased.

  Her brother laughed and shook his head. “Stubborn like you, also. I’m not sure Samantha’s as into this idea as Dolores, but she’d do anything for her mom.”

  “And you would too. You said you may have found a place?”

  Matt quickly bobbed his head. “There’s a fancy yacht club up on the Miami River that I deliver to. Someone cancelled their wedding—which means they forfeited the deposit. Since they’ve already made some money on it, the owner is being nice enough to let me have it that day for a reduced price.”

  “I’ve been to that place for an event. It’s a gorgeous location,” Sara said, picturing the stunning views of the Miami River and surrounding luxury homes along the banks near the yacht club.

  “I may need help with the catering and stuff. Can I count on you to assist?” Matt arched one eyebrow.

  Sara hesitated and disappointment bloomed on her brother’s face. Before he could say another word, she jumped in with, “Things are crazy here, but I’ll find a way. Besides, I’m s
ure you’re inviting lots of big shot types—”

  “There’s a ton of them that are parents at that fancy school,” he half-groused.

  “All the better to help both of us grow our businesses, right?” she said, warming to the idea as she gave both a pep talk. “You’ll feed them the best meat and fish available and my food will be irresistible. Before you know it, they’ll be knocking down our doors for more,” she said. In truth, if there were a lot of high-powered people at the party it would be good for both of them.

  “Thanks, Sara. You’re the best,” he said and hopped out of the chair to come around and give her another big bear hug.

  “Anything for family, Matt. You know that.” She returned the embrace before shooing him away good-naturedly. “Now go. I’ve got a lot of work to do if I’m going to take time off to help you.”

  “Yes, chef,” he teased, echoing the response he’d heard coming from her kitchen staff so many times.

  “Get out of here,” she said with a dismissive wave, keeping her smile firmly in place.

  Only when he was gone did she sag back into her chair as she thought about the promise she’d just made. She’d do anything for her brothers and sister, but a big event like her niece’s party was going to take a lot of time. Time that was already in short supply, thanks to the restaurant’s success.

  But as she’d told her brother, this would not only be a wonderful opportunity to help Dolores keep her traditions, it might be a good way to grow their businesses and impress some of the local elites.

  I can do this. She braced her hands on the arms of her desk chair and hopped up to return to the kitchen. She had to get to work because she didn’t have any time to waste. The restaurant would open for lunch in a few hours and stay open into the night long past when many others closed. The post-clubbing late night crowd was the perfect clientele for her restaurant’s small plate eclectic menu. Even the name of the place—Munch—told people exactly what they would get: tasty bites to satisfy their cravings.

  But unlike most late-night munchies, she was proud to serve food that would be suitable in any high-end starred restaurant. It was what had made her place a favorite spot in the South Beach area, and why she’d often thought that they should open another location. But despite the restaurant’s success, she still didn’t think they could swing a new storefront without additional financing—and securing that financing was a dicey proposition in the restaurant business, especially if you were young and female. There was a decided bias in favor of male chefs. No one expected a woman to be able to succeed at all, much less grow and expand.