Island Affair (Keys to Love #1)(79)
“Mom, that’s his nice way of saying yoga’s not his thing,” Sara insisted.
Luis gave her a don’t-blame-me frown as he downed his coffee.
“Dr. Vance, I don’t mind making this a group class if you’d prefer. Whatever you’d like works for me.”
At the sound of his sister’s voice coming from somewhere outside, Luis sucked in a shocked breath. Unfortunately, he already had a mouthful of hot coffee. It slid down his windpipe and he choked like a drowning man. Black liquid spewed across the sink, making an abstract splatter across the white tile counter on the patio side of the large pass-through window.
Sara threw him a bewildered look and smacked him on the center of his back. Hard!
He endured another painful whack, his eyes watering as he stared out at the back yard. His worst nightmare in this whole charade he and Sara were playing came to life when Anamaría climbed the three steps leading up to the porch.
Ruth spread her arms as if welcoming them all to her yoga-themed fiasco about which she remained, thankfully, clueless.
“Anamaría, this is my youngest daughter, Sara, and her partner, Luis Montez. Maybe you’ll have better luck convincing them to stick around for your class.”
Gracias a Dios, his sister was not only a world-class athletic trainer and firefighter paramedic but also the best damn poker player who possessed the absolute best damn poker face. Luis had learned from experience to avoid playing against her unless he wanted to lose his shirt or, when they were kids, extra free time because he was stuck doing her chores.
Anamaría crossed the wooden deck, her long dark hair caught in a high ponytail, the length hanging in a braid to her shoulder blades. Her hyperfit body sported formfitting black shorts and a sports bra under a white tank with “AM Fitness” scrawled across her chest. Her hazel gaze pinned him to the spot like a spear running through a king mackerel.
“My pleasure,” she said. The flash of you-are-so-busted triumph in her hazel eyes alerted him that she might play along now, but he’d owe her for it later. In spades.
Anamaría squeezed his hand in a death grip the likes of which would impress their brothers. “You know, what many bulky men have in strength and endurance they often lack in flexibility. The third, equally important element of a truly healthy, balanced workout routine.”
Yeah, he knew that. She’d harped on him about it ad nauseam over the years as she’d taken classes and workshops, earning her personal trainer and nutritionist certifications.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he muttered.
“Um, hi, nice to meet you.” Sara held out her hand, interrupting Luis and his sister’s infantile handshake to the death routine. “I didn’t get your last name. What was it?”
“Navarro. Anamaría Navarro.” Strangely, as his sister turned to address Sara, Anamaría’s poker face slipped away, a wide-eyed, awed expression taking its place. Her mouth spread in a huge grin, the dimple in her left cheek making its appearance. “Ay Dios mío, I am going to try my best not to fangirl, Ms. Vance, but I’m a huge follower of your blog and Instagram account. The way you’ve managed your career and business is a true inspiration. I’m a fledgling small-business owner myself, determined to do things the right way.”
It was almost comical. The juxtaposition of horror and surprise on Sara’s face at his sister’s gushing speech.
“Please, uh, call me Sara.” She stuck out her hand to shake, wincing when Anamaría clasped it in both of hers and gave an exaggerated pump. “I appreciate you saying that. If there’s some way I could be of help, maybe we could, um, chat about your business later?”
Sara’s confused gaze swung to Luis. Unfortunately, he was right there with her. Confused, unsure how or even if he wanted to involve Anamaría in their mess.
What the hell were the odds Ruth would hire his sister, potentially sabotaging Sara’s ruse?
Even more strange, who knew his sister would have the social media hots for the same woman he couldn’t wait to get alone again, so they could continue where they’d left off earlier this morning?
Co?o, this situation couldn’t get any more screwed up.
“Thanks, I really appreciate the offer,” Anamaría told Sara, then she turned to him with that smug, saccharine sweet smile she flashed when she knew she had the upper hand. “You know, I could use a little help bringing in some equipment. Mr. Montez, would you mind assisting me?”
*
“Who the hell is Luis Montez?” Anamaría started in on him as soon as the front door closed behind them.
“Keep your voice down,” he hissed. He leaned over to peer through the rectangular windows lining the door’s perimeter to make sure he and Anamaría hadn’t been followed.
Once he knew the coast was clear, he grabbed her by the elbow, rushed them down the stairs and front walk, through the white picket gate, to her blue Honda Pilot parked across the street.
“Don’t shush me! ?Quién carajo es Luis Montez?” she repeated, jerking her arm out of his grasp.
“No one.”
“Uh, apparently not, since that’s the name Dr. Vance used when she introduced you as her famous daughter’s partner.”
“It’s complicated.” Luis paced a few steps away. He spun to pace back, then repeated the same loop, mind-boggled. “You’re not involved, so don’t worry about it.”