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Khalan looked as disappointed as Mandy felt by the shift of conversation. Maybe Edmund didn’t realize Khalan didn’t want to be talking about work on his day off. Edmund was clearly attempting to make a good impression and failing miserably at it. But this was what Mandy was there for, right? To make sure Edmund looked good to important people. That was why she was in those god-awfully uncomfortable heels, right? Khalan seemed to be looking for his escape, when Mandy touched his arm.

“You know what would go great with these?” She held up her drink. “Hot wings.”

Edmund chuckled nervously, but Khalan smiled.

“But, like, really hot ones…” he said.

“The kind that make your nose run,” Mandy finished.

“Exactly.” Khalan took another drink of his cocktail.

“I think there are chicken skewers.” Edmund shifted his attention to the hors d’oeuvres table that had a large fountain of cheese with crackers and fruit that sat under glass domes. There had been a few waiters who passed by with trays, but by the time they got to Mandy’s table, they were mostly empty.

“It’s not the same,” Mandy said.

“I’ll go see what I can rustle up.” Khalan grabbed his cocktail and excused himself.

He had barely gotten out of earshot when Edmund wrapped his hand around Mandy’s arm. “You’re embarrassing me. Mr. Jain doesn’t care about hot wings.” He released her arm, but the place he had held her pulsed.

“No, Khalan didn’t want to talk about portfolios. I was trying to save you there.”

“Well, do me a favor and don’t do me any more favors. I have to work with these people. And they don’t want to see you shoving your face full of messy chicken wings.” Edmund was stressed, that’s why he was being a complete ass, but it didn’t make it okay.

“Oh, I won’t.” Mandy grabbed her purse and took off her shoes.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving. God knows I wouldn’t want to embarrass you more.”

“And you think leaving in the middle of my work party is making a good impression?”

“Tell them I had a graphic design emergency. Tell themwhatever you want. I don’t care.” She slammed the rest of her cocktail and walked away before Edmund could say anything else.

She hadn’t wanted to come to this party to begin with, but she had. For Edmund. Because she was always doing things for Edmund. Mandy didn’t even know where she was going or how she would get there. She had driven with Edmund because he liked his car more than hers, but she had to get away. She was hot, and hungry, and damn it, she wanted some chicken wings.

Being this close to the water had its perks. First, she stopped in the yacht club’s shop and bought a pair of overpriced flip-flops and a bottle of ice-cold water. They were worth every penny if it meant she didn’t have to wear her heels anymore, and the water refreshed her in a way even the piña colada couldn’t. Part of her still felt a teeny-tiny bit bad for leaving Edmund, but it wasn’t enough to make her go back. So Mandy did what she always did in situations like this.

She pulled out her cell.

The cantina was surprisingly busy,but Mandy found a seat at the bar and ordered a margarita on the rocks with extra salt, and something called Mexican egg rolls. They weren’t spicy chicken wings, but they were fried and sounded as ridiculous as Edmund made her feel for wanting them, which was perfect for Mandy.

There was something about crunchy chips and spicy salsa that soothed Mandy’s soul. It wasn’t the chilaquiles Isa’s mom or Abuela would make when she had been feeling down, but it had the same kind of effect with the banda music playing softly overthe chatter of other patrons. Chips and salsa had been one of the only Mexican foods Mandy could find in Europe when she’d sought the same kind of consoling she needed today.

Those days seemed so long ago now. Days she had to get through without Isa. Where everything was new and yet it all still seemed to remind Mandy of her.

And just like that, Isa was there.

“What’s going on?” she asked as she pulled up a stool next to Mandy and helped herself to some chips. “What are those?”

“They’re called Mexican egg rolls.”

Isa cocked a brow, just the one, her way of sayingWTFwithout having to say it. “Sounds disgusting.” She picked one up and took a bite.

The bartender made their way over and placed a napkin down in front of Isa. “What can I get you?”

Isa pointed to Mandy’s cocktail. “One of those, and another order of these.” She pointed to the egg rolls.

“Coming up.” The bartender walked away.