She spun around to set the vase down on the white laminate shelf, keeping her back to the group.
“That’s so nice of them,” Mariana said.
“Mm-hmm,” Blanca answered, her jerky nod and furrowed brow odd reactions for someone who’d been brimming with surprised joy moments ago.
No one else seemed to pick up on Blanca’s caginess, and with the mystery of the secret sender solved, most of the girls went back to their preperformance rituals: vocal warm-ups, makeup checks, charro adjustments, or instrument fine-tuning. Except for Cat, who studiously watched Blanca’s reflection in the mirror.
Head ducked, Blanca carefully opened the envelope, then withdrew the small card. A dark blush stole up her cheeks as she read the message. A shy grin tugged at the corners of her red-painted mouth, and she pressed the card to her chest again with a soft sigh.
This was no “break a leg” bouquet from coworkers. Not unless Blanca had a thing for someone at the school. Possible, but doubtful. The only male teachers or staff she’d mentioned were married or not her type. So, who was the secret someone who had her sister smitten? And was it the same someone Blanca had been texting with during rehearsal recently?
When Blanca cast a furtive glance around the room, then tucked the card into the side pocket of her makeup case, instead of back on the plastic cardholder stick nestled among the flowers, Cat’s curiosity turned to discomfort.
More important than who . . . why was Blanca keeping the identity a secret?
Unease slithered through Cat, a garden snake disturbing her preperformance euphoria.
She and Blanca might have come from the same DNA, but all the softhearted genes had skipped Cat and stockpiled in her younger sister. Blanca tended to give her heart easily and often wound up hurt. If this mystery guy turned out to be equally as pendejo as others before him and Blanca needed a shoulder to cry on while Cat was on tour . . .
Sure, the other girls and Mamá would be there for comfort. But Blanca and Cat had been through every traumatizing life experience together, big and small. She hated the idea of not being there if her little sister needed her.
Suddenly the garden snake morphed into a boa constrictor encircling Cat’s chest, squeezing tighter and tighter until she struggled to draw in a breath.
After the concert tonight, she’d be hopping on one of the tour buses and leaving San Antonio in the rearview mirror. Leaving her familia. Las Nubes. Casa Capuleta. Blanca.
Just like their birth father had always left them.
The skeleton in her closet ran a bony finger down Cat’s spine. Her shoulders shimmied with a shiver, and a sheen of nervous sweat prickled her upper lip. Cat swiped it away with the back of her hand and gave an angry shake of her head.
No. Not like that sinvergüenza. She was nothing like that shameless man, who didn’t deserve the title of father.
She was leaving with her familia in her heart, seeking fame and fortune for them all. Not only for herself.
“Knock, knock!” Patricio Galán appeared in the open doorway.
Two of the younger girls squealed with delight, quickly clapping hands over their mouths. Eyes saucer-wide, they gaped with adoration at the disarming mariachi. Even casually dressed in a pair of black sweats cinched at his ankles and a gray tee with the words HECHO EN MÉXICO in bold black font, its short sleeves snug around his biceps, the man was devastatingly handsome. Add his sexy smile as he grabbed the doorframe and leaned into their small space and . . .
No wonder he was greeted with swoons and batting eyelashes.
Not from her, though.
After several rehearsals with him and his band this week and the sound check earlier today, Cat was becoming used to her body’s unwanted reaction to the charisma known to make Patricio’s countless admirers weak in the knees.
Actually, she found herself more intrigued by the man he was behind the scenes when the cameras were off. The one who seemed more comfortable concentrating on his music and choreography, the lighting, and the million other decisions he had deftly handled during sound check. Patient and confident, quick witted yet at times contemplative, always a consummate professional. There was something about watching the legend at work that she couldn’t resist. Ay, talk about a freaking turn-on.
One she’d be wise to resist.
“I thought I’d come see how the Battle champions were holding up,” Patricio said. He flashed his charming grin, and damn if lust didn’t rush over her like a warm summer rain.
The calm Mariana’s pep talk had brought a few moments ago fizzled in the sisters’ surprise over Patricio’s visit. A jittery, nervous exhilaration hummed in the air.
“Have you seen how many people are in the seats? Is there, like, a ton?” Teresita asked. She caught her lower lip between her teeth. Her sweet face pinched with alarm.
Patricio moved out of the doorway, hands outstretched as he stepped toward them. “Ten people, a hundred people, the number doesn’t matter. Teresa, you do your magic on your guitar, like you did during the Battle, and they’re going to eat it up like your mamá’s best cooking.”
A blush tinted Teresita’s cheeks dusky rose, and Cat could have kissed Patricio for his sweet pep talk. So unlike the blunt “constructive feedback” he was fond of giving her during rehearsals.
“The same goes for the rest of you.” Patricio trailed his gaze over each of the sisters as he spoke. “Las Nubes deserves to be out there tonight. Play like you’re on the wooden stage under the strands of white lights in the Casa Capuleta courtyard entertaining your comunidad. That’s who’s out there. Nuestra gente. Our people. And they’re here to see you. You’re going to be great.”
His gaze finally landed on Cat. Intent. Certain. And damn if it didn’t make her heart flutter while at the same time hardened her resolve to prove him right, and countless others wrong.
Lifting her chin, she flared an eyebrow with a hell-yeah intent.
Patricio’s lips curved in his sexy smirk. He shot her a playful wink and her stomach flip-flopped.
Preshow nervous energy, she assured herself. But the lie didn’t calm her suddenly racing heart.
“Gracias for stopping by, Patricio,” Mariana said. “It means a lot to all of us, right, girls?”
The others answered with a chorus of “Ay, Dios mío, yes” and “So much!”
Cat tipped her head in agreement.
He broke their staring contest first to shrug off the thanks and step back toward the door. “I’ll let you ladies finish getting ready. Catalina, I need a word with you. Outside.”
A softly spoken command, but one that pricked her ornery nature all the same. Did the man not know how to use the word “please”?
Without waiting for her response, Patricio turned and headed out, clearly expecting her to follow.
When she didn’t move to do so, Sabrina elbowed Cat in the ribs.
“What are you waiting for? Go,” Blanca chided, giving her a little shove from behind.
“Hurry, and we’ll do our prayer circle when you get back.” Mariana shooed her away. “Everyone, finish up. It’s almost time.”
With her sisters now bustling about the tiny room, Cat strode out. She had no idea what Patricio felt compelled to discuss minutes before Las Nubes went on, but she certainly didn’t need the unwanted distraction the man presented.