“Well, we’ll meet up there. When I can get off from the department or if an expo falls around my Kelly day, so I have the extra time off for travel. There’s one mid-July I may attend. AllFit is also checking to see if I can do a cooking demo to promo my YouTube channel.”
“Is that the one in London?” Brandon asked.
She nodded, looking forward to getting her first passport stamp.
“Great, I’m scheduled to be there for AllFit, too,” Brandon said. “Afterward, I head to Costa Rica for an exercise and self-care retreat I’m coordinating. Alejandro, I thought you mentioned spending time there. Got any tips and must-see sites I should consider?”
The conversation turned to the six weeks Alejandro had spent in Costa Rica a few years ago and his annual trips back to visit the village he had photographed. Brandon mentioned the locations of several other retreats he had coordinated over the past year for clients, a new venture that allowed him to parlay his interest in travel with his fitness training.
“Maybe you could join me for a retreat sometime,” Brandon suggested, motioning to Anamaría with his glass.
She nearly choked on her sip of water. Surprised by his invite to travel together when they’d only just met.
“I’ve had a mixed group with all three of the retreats so far. We could tag team workouts, and classes. Maybe you could offer a healthy cooking demo and nutritional meal planning. If we divvy up the logistics planning and share the financial arrangements, we’d each have time on our own to individually explore our location when the other takes the reins.”
“Oh, that’s a smart idea!” Sara scooted sideways to face Anamaría, who could practically feel Señora Miranda’s over-protective radar sounding an internal alarm at the thought of Anamaría traveling to a foreign country with a man she barely knew.
She agreed with Sara, though: Brandon was capitalizing on a fabulous way to travel while earning money and building his business. There were plenty of healthy vacation packages touted on the internet these days.
Still, she could hear the concerns about Brandon’s offer as if her own mami had joined them at the table to list them. With her three brothers joining in with their two cents. Papi would naturally wait to weigh in when she asked his opinion, because she typically did.
“Hey, if you two teamed up, I bet AllFit would even sponsor. If they don’t already. Do they?” Sara threw the question at Brandon, her shrewd business mind that had most recently resulted in the launch of her own clothing line off and running with his suggestion. “They’d be crazy not to cash in on the promo op. If you two go with this.”
“I had been waiting to crunch numbers. Gathering feedback and reviews from the first three retreats, but I mentioned it to them this past weekend when we were all in New York,” he answered. He grabbed his drink and adjusted the paper straw for a sip. “We’re negotiating.”
“Yes!” Sara balled her fist and tapped the table beside her empty salad plate. “I think it’s a perfect opportunity for you two.”
“Maybe,” Anamaría hedged. She didn’t want to commit to anything without thinking through it. “Everything’s still pretty new with AllFit. They might want to see the response from my sponsored posts before investing more in me.”
Sara waved off Anamaría’s argument, her blond hair dancing along her shoulders as she shook her head. “The response is going to be fabulous. I’m sure of it. You two have great energy together. And Alejandro got some incredible shots today. Right?”
She motioned toward him, inviting his agreement.
Alejandro’s lips quirked in a cocky grin that had Anamaría giving him a playful eye roll because she knew what was coming. Sara had opened the door wide for an ego trip he couldn’t help but take, as would most of her brothers.
He had the audacity to wink at her, and a delicious thrill sizzled through the secret spots in Anamaría’s body. “Even though my mami tried to teach me it’s not nice to brag, I have to say, in my hands, most subjects wind up looking incredible. But these two made it easy. So yes, I got some shots today that are pretty badass.”
“Mi hijo, so humble,” his mom lamented before taking a sip of her cortadito. The coffee and steamed milk’s strong scent was a familiar one, reminiscent of Anamaría’s childhood when she used to sit on her abuela’s knee watching her win at dominoes.
“I can see why he and your baby brother get along so well,” Sara said, joining the fun. “Both their own biggest fans.”
“Ay verdad, nena.” Señora Miranda reached across Anamaría to clink her coffee cup with Sara’s water glass in solidarity of them speaking the truth, as the older woman lamented. Their shared laughter burst louder when Anamaría added her drink to the toast.
“Bro, these ladies are a force to be reckoned with. I’m with you, though, sure we got some sick pics at the beach.” Brandon stretched a fist across the empty chair between him and Alejandro, who lifted his for a good-humored bump.
“Exactly,” Alejandro agreed. “But, Mami, I’m only following your advice. You always said Ernesto and I should never lie.”
Señora Miranda’s tsk of disapproval had the rest of them chuckling.
“AM, you told me that you’ve always wanted to travel,” Sara said, circling back to their topic. “This is the perfect way to make that happen.”
“She’s right. You two made a great team today.” Alejandro’s agreement had Anamaría’s surprised gaze flying up to meet his. He motioned between her and Brandon.
Was he serious? He couldn’t possibly still be stuck on the idea of her and Brandon hooking up. That might be Alejandro’s MO, but she had made it clear to him that she was not interested.
Alejandro dipped his head in the tiniest of encouraging nods. She squinted a glare, uncomfortable with his bizarre matchmaking. It was too weird. Too . . . wrong.
She wanted to be a big enough person to wish him well when he eventually left. But she highly doubted any scenario in which she would encourage Alejandro to be with another woman.
Equally as strange, for someone who constantly poked her toe . . . bueno, more like her whole body . . . into her kids’ and those who were like her own kids’ business, Señora Miranda rem-ined uncharacteristically quiet. No opinions or unsolicited advice doled out.
The Cuban Inquisition had ended midway through the meal, a sign Brandon had made the first cut. His rave reviews about Miranda’s had definitely earned him points. If he stuck around for long, there would be more questions, especially if the two of them pursued his retreat venture.
That was the blessing and curse of having mamis whose sun rose and set on their children. Something Anamaría never took for granted. As much as she might complain about it.
“If you’re interested, let me know,” Brandon told her. “Find out when you can get time off from the fire department. We’ll pick a location we’d like to hit up and start working on details.”
Picking up his lemon water, he leaned back against the padded vinyl chair, one arm hooked on the empty chair between him and Alejandro. “Or we could start smaller, make it a long weekend retreat here. I’m betting with our combined trainer experience, your nutritionist certification, and my contacts, we’d make a good business team.”