and rubbed his thumbs and index fingers together. “Gotta make that schmoney.”
We all laughed at that. Dani was always making money moves.
Tariq spoke next after getting down the impressive amount of chicken he’d stuffed in his mouth. “Going to Houston. One of my aunties settled there, so Moms and I are going down to see her.” Tariq was such a family guy, and the way José looked at him every time he mentioned his “Moms,” it was only a matter of time before those two got up to something.
Rocco, on the other hand, was not forthcoming with an answer and I noticed he seemed embarrassed. His face had that same shuttered expression he’d worn at the bar that first night. I was about to rescue him, feeling guilty for whatever unpleasant situation I brought up for him, but—before I dove into the deep end of the dysfunctional waters I so loved to tread in—he spoke up.
“I’m staying in town. I usually chill on Thanksgiving, get a bunch of food the day before, go to the gym, and just watch football.” He smiled wide, like that was the best plan ever, but I could see the bleakness in his eyes, and goddammit, this was not my problem.
And yet once again, the word vomit happened.
“I’ll be in town too. It’s too much to go home for Thanksgiving and Christmas, so I’ll be around if you want to hang out.”
Oh my God. What the fuck?
“I mean, not that you have to. I’m not really into football so—”
Help me. Someone please, save me from myself.
Someone up there must’ve been in the mood to do me a solid. Because just as I was tripping all over my word mess, and had all the exiles looking at me like I’d lost it, the door slammed open and a whirlwind of primary colors and very expensive perfume broke into the suite.
“Rocco, darling.”
Two women who looked to be in their fifties barreled into the room and took turns giving Rocco—who stood up as soon as he saw them—double kisses. It took me a moment to realize they were “the Twins,” Mitzy and Muffy Sturm.
Those two were something else. I’d only met them once before when I presented the new program to the executive board, and there was nowhere near this level of closeness. The two were fans of Rocco’s, that was for sure. After a long round of air kisses and hugs, they finally looked around the room. Between them they were wearing a dozen shades of red.
“Mitzy, look who’s here!” They were very hard to tell apart, but thankfully they had different hairstyles. Muffy, the one who was headed our way, had her silver hair very short, almost a crew cut. That, paired with burgundy skinny jeans and a fire-engine-red linen shirt she’d French-tucked to show off a rose-gold Hermes belt, was a whole fucking look.
“I’m so glad to see you!”
I wasn’t certain who they were talking to, but I made sure I was smiling wide enough to show all my teeth. Mitzy wore her hair in a platinum bob and was in a vintage, bright red skater skirt and a short-sleeved silk blouse in a hounds tooth pattern with shades of red and pink. It would not have worked on everyone, but she looked like she’d just come back from lunch with Jackie O.
“Oh, hi...” I froze for a little bit because what was I supposed to call them? Miss and Miss Sturm? The Sturms?
I sure as hell was not going to be all fresh and call them Mitzy and Muffy like we were homies. Thankfully José stepped in before I called them M&M.
“Miss Mitzy.” Double air kiss, hug. “Miss Muffy.” Rinse and repeat. “Fancy seeing you ladies here. Out today in vintage Dior and Hermes.” He was practically crowing and they were eating it up. “I approve.”
José turned to me and grabbed my hand. “You know Julia Ortiz, the dynamo taking the foundation to the next level.”
Wow, I thought I could code-switch, but José had just transformed into a Soul Cycle mom named Barbara before my eyes. I was in awe.
“Yes, of course. How are you, dear?” It was my turn for air kisses and hugs.
“We’re so pleased to see the Sturm’s team taking care of our guests. When Rocco told us he was coming to the game with friends, we had to stop by.” They waved Dani over.
Dani also got some love. It was kind of wild that these ladies were the literal owners