Homicide and Halo-Halo (Tita Rosie's Kitchen Mystery #2)(20)

I nudged the cookies closer to her. She’d had way more to drink than me and could use something in her stomach.

“You’re older than Rob, right? How come he became the head of the company after your parents passed instead of you? You seem much more responsible than Rob. No offense to your brother,” I added.

A sad, bitter smile tilted Valerie’s lips as she reached for another ube cookie. “You’re right about that. I’d be damn good at running the company. But my parents didn’t think I was a good fit. I didn’t study business, after all. Plus my ‘radical politics’ might upset our investors.”

She paused to take a large bite of her treat, and I did the same, savoring the light sweetness and crisp yet chewy texture that I loved.

Sana also helped herself to a cookie but broke it in half before indulging. “Forgive me for asking, but what exactly did your parents consider ‘radical politics’?”

Valerie rolled her eyes. “You know, wild things like decent pay and benefits. They also hated that I got a master’s in women’s studies and wanted to teach at a community college before taking over the company. A waste of time and money, according to them. Still, they might’ve gotten over it if . . .”

“If what?” I prodded.

Valerie straightened up, looking at me and Sana carefully. “If I hadn’t told them I had no interest in marrying to strengthen our business and political connections, or in producing an heir. My parents stressed that we were the Thompson Family Company. If I didn’t have a family, who would it go to? They couldn’t risk our legacy being passed down to an outsider. My brother may not have had a head for business, but he could produce an heir. Or at least, that’s what we thought.” Valerie shook her head, letting out a bitter laugh. “And here he is, dying without any kids. Typical Rob.”

Sana shook her glass, watching the ice cubes clink against each other. “I can understand that. You said you have no interest in marrying for connections, but what about love?”

Valerie poured herself more water, keeping her eyes on her glass. “I don’t have any interest in those kinds of relationships. I’m not of that particular persuasion, I guess you could say.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that kind of revelation, one that couldn’t have come easily and showed a level of vulnerability I wasn’t prepared for. But Sana did.

She placed her hand on Valerie’s and said, “Thank you for sharing that with us. I appreciate that you trust us enough to share that side of you.”

I echoed Sana’s sentiments.

“Thank you. Not many people know. Most don’t understand. My parents always assumed I’d grow out of it, and they’d welcome me back when I did. Rob had his faults and I hated so much about him. But he was always accepting of who I was. And he took care of me. So I guess I loved him, too.”

There was so much more I wanted to ask. So much more I needed to know about Rob and what could’ve led to his death. But this wasn’t the time. So Sana and I just held Valerie’s hands and let her cry.



* * *



? ? ?

    After Valerie broke down, Sana kept the sangria slushies flowing.

“After all that, I think we need a full-on girls’ night. You can either sleep over or call a ride, but nobody’s driving home. Now drink up.”

I sipped at my glass, noting the mixed berries, citrus, and heady red wine she’d used for the drinks. Tons of antioxidants and vitamin C. Practically a health tonic.

The thought made me smile. “You’ll have to give me your recipe, Sana. Adeena and Elena would love this.”

“I’ll have you all over soon. I would’ve invited them, but this wasn’t the right time.” She nodded her head toward Valerie, who had fallen asleep on Sana’s couch.

“I’m glad she had someone to talk to. I can’t imagine the shock the news must’ve given her. Didn’t realize you two were such good friends though.” I took another drink, a shiver from the icy beverage running up my spine, followed by a warmth from the alcohol radiating out from my stomach.

Sana, who was still sitting cross-legged on the floor with me, leaned her back against the couch, careful not to wake up Valerie. “I don’t know that I’d say we’re ‘good’ friends. We admire each other, run in some of the same circles. We have a professional relationship. That makes things difficult.”

At my questioning look, she explained, “She’s one of my coaching clients, remember? Due to the nature of the coach-client relationship, I try to keep a professional distance because the lines can get blurred very easily. But in a town this small, it’s hard to avoid.”

“Oh right, you said you were a life coach earlier.” I wrinkled my nose and spoke before I thought to watch my tone.

Sana laughed. “I know what you’re thinking. I hate the name, too. Really what I do is provide guidance to female entrepreneurs and business leaders, particularly women of color. I coach them through negotiations, and how to both understand and ask for their true worth. I help them learn how to lead without feeling like an impostor, build up their confidence and intuition, things like that.”

“Oh wow, that actually sounds really cool. No wonder Valerie wanted you to be a judge.” Though why would Valerie need Sana’s services? “Valerie isn’t involved with the Thompson Family Company though. What were you coaching her on?”