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I push up to stand. I need to kiss her senseless until the color is all over her face like yesterday.

The clomping of feet down the stairs keeps me rooted, and she turns to her laptop screen.

“So, we will need really good lighting over the stove and countertops. Have you seen those QVC kitchen spaces?”

I love her quick mind. “Yes.”

“I want that.” But this time, her eyes are on me, and my whole body stirs all over again for her.

OVERTHINKING CAN DERAIL THE BEST LAID PLANS, BUT THERE’S ALWAYS AN UPSIDE

By Bougie Girl

Being excited is as natural as breathing. We can all remember the jitters of the night before Christmas, waiting to get those presents. Or being ready to jump out of your skin waiting for the start of the Hermès show at New York Fashion Week. When the lights go on, our blood pressure is ready to drop. And who can forget the erratic beating of our hearts at a sports game? Make that to the 10th power if you watched your older brother pitch a no-hitter—three of the longest hours of my life.

If we zoom in even closer, we’ve all gotten ready for a nerve-wracking and fluttery first date.

It’s always about the guy or the girl. Will they like us enough? Will we like them enough? What if lettuce gets stuck in my teeth? What if we run into my mother in a restaurant?

Shudders.

Because there’s so much uncertainty, we like to fixate on what we can actually control, like choosing the heels that will enhance our legs more, practicing our hellos to sound casual, or picking the right restaurant. We want to look hip, chic, sexy, smart, desirable, confident, edible, and just the right amount of vulnerable.

With such small goals, what can possibly go wrong?

We overthink, overdo, and over-prepare ourselves into a state where we forget the most important thing: have fun, enjoy the experience, and live in the moment. If it goes wrong, it will be the anecdote you tell your friends over drinks for a long time. But if it goes right…you’ll spend a long time reliving this moment and committing it to the vault of the kind of memory that fades the hurt from the past. And the minor things won’t matter.

16

Lux

I’m ready for him.

God knows I’ve never prepared for a date like today. The table is set with the fine china that got delivered this morning.

I placed the utensils in the right order—in the obnoxious way Marilyn Blake would browbeat our employees into learning. My mother is a stickler for etiquette and the “right” way of doing things. Of course, all that fades back when it comes to people of a different class, those she sees as inferior.

Stop thinking about her, Luciana. Nothing kills a mood like Marilyn Blake’s presence, even if it’s in spirit.

Tonight, I need to be softer and fresher than the bamboo sheets at Marble House Spa, not only on the outside but on the inside. The only way to achieve that is to scrub my mother—and father—from my mind. I also must wipe the conversation I overheard between Ayla and Bron.

I rub a hand over my jittery stomach. The last thing I want in the world is to cause problems for Ollie, or even worse, for that little girl who’s had so much turmoil in her life.

Grandma told her friend that Papi shouldn’t bring any of his women around me until he knows it will last. She says he should dedicate himself to raising me. But I want him to be happy, you know?

At any other time, I wouldn’t have cared what anyone thought. That lady doesn’t know about me, so her opinion doesn’t matter. Like Mateo’s mother’s opinion never mattered. She hated me on the spot because I didn’t want to fetch things for her son. She wanted me to cook and make sure his clothes were pristine and fulfill her dream of the perfect wife for her fuckboy son.

That was a hell no.

But it’s different now. Ollie is different. He loves his daughter so much. It’s so special watching them together. I used to feel like that with Walter when I was younger, but that all changed when I was sixteen.

No, no, no. Don’t think about him now.

Concentrate on the fact that Ayla says she likes you and thinks you’re awesome.

I fluff my pillows one more time and head to the bedroom to get ready. The FoodRnr delivery guy rings the doorbell just as I finish getting ready. He hands me the delivery bag, and I wave him away, sending him the tip through my phone app. In the kitchen, I place everything in its proper serving dish.

When the doorbell rings, my heart jumps, and I press my palm to it as I make my way to the door.