4

Reyna wheeled the shopping cart through the school supply aisle, Mia skipping happily at her side. Her daughter’s wide-eyed wonder at the array of colorful backpacks, lunchboxes, and notebooks brought a smile to Reyna’s face.

“See anything you like, Mija?” she asked. Mia immediately darted for a sparkly pink backpack shaped like a unicorn. Reyna chuckled. Her little girl had simple tastes.

As Mia babbled excitedly about her impending first day at a new private school, Reyna felt a swell of bittersweet emotion. Her baby was growing up so fast. She wished she could freeze this innocent moment forever, before the harsh realities of the world encroached on Mia’s joy.

Rounding the corner, Reyna collided straight into another shopping cart, jolting her abruptly from her reverie.

“Oh goodness, my apologies!” a familiar voice exclaimed. Reyna’s stomach dropped as she looked up at the heavily made-up face of her cousin Olivia. Beside her cowered Olivia’s son, Anthony, peering at Reyna through a messy fringe.

Reyna stiffened, old anger and hurt rising up. The last time she had seen Olivia was after her deranged attempt at revenge, which ended with Reyna rescuing Mia from being kidnapped. Olivia had threatened to ruin Reyna’s life yet again in retaliation for her imagined slights.

Somehow, Olivia had gotten out on bail despite the damning evidence against her. No doubt due to the influence of Reyna’s powerful ex-husband, Nicholas. The thought made Reyna’s skin crawl with unease. Was nowhere safe from that man’s ominous reach?

Oblivious to her mother’s history, Mia smiled shyly at Anthony in greeting. Before she could speak, Olivia grabbed her son’s hand possessively.

“Come along, Anthony; we shouldn’t bother your aunt,” she said loudly with an exaggerated smile. “Especially now that she’s rolling in money while we struggle on crumbs.”

Reyna bit back a scathing retort at the audacious comment. She wouldn’t give Olivia the satisfaction of a reaction. Gathering a quiet Mia close, she pushed past her toxic relative towards the checkout line.

Unfortunately, Olivia seemed intent on provoking a confrontation. She followed close on Reyna’s heels, continuing her barbed commentary.

“Of course, Reyna always knew how to manipulate men with her wiles. Why else would my Nicholas have stayed with her so long instead of his real soulmate?”

Reyna halted abruptly at this, nearly losing grip of the heavy cart. Anger simmered in her gut. She was done putting up with this petty vitriol. Turning, she fixed Olivia with a cold stare.

“The only manipulating your dear Nicholas seems fond of is abusing vulnerable women,” she retorted bluntly. “At least I finally escaped with a shred of dignity intact. I can't say the same for you, can I?”

Olivia reeled in outrage. Reyna gave a satisfied nod, then continued walking, steering clear of any further entanglements. After paying for Mia’s school items, she decided a snack was in order to lift both their spirits.

They stopped at the bustling food court. Mia chattered about her new teacher while eagerly slurping a chocolate milkshake. Reyna let the innocent joy wash over her, soothing her frayed emotions after the earlier unpleasant scene.

As they walked out, Reyna paused by a pillar plastered with flyers advertising local events and services. One glossy poster announced the opening of a sleek new restaurant and bar called Havana Nights that very evening.

Ideas immediately sprang into Reyna’s entrepreneurial mind. This was the perfect opportunity to market Phoenix Winery to new business owners in town. She could do with finding a fresh set of clients not entangled in past drama.

After dropping Mia off with Aunt Mildred, Reyna selected an appropriate business outfit from her ever-expanding wardrobe. The polka-dot wrap dress was chic yet professional. Slipping into low black pumps, she appraised her reflection approvingly.

It's time to make an impression. Selecting a bottle of her most acclaimed vintage, Reyna arrived fashionably late to Havana Nights’ bustling launch soiree. Sultry Latin music drifted through the candlelit interior, swirling with people.

Weaving her way towards the bar, Reyna scanned the room through the haze of cigar smoke, searching for anyone who looked like the owner or manager. A bulky man with slicked-back hair stood arguing with a waiter by the kitchen doors. She decided he seemed like a good person to steer towards to make her sales pitch.

Smoothly intercepting the man as he stomped away from his employee, Reyna extended a polished hand in introduction. “Mr Martinez? It's a pleasure to meet you. I’m Reyna Flores Collins of Phoenix Winery.”

The owner shook her hand perfunctorily, glancing her up and down with thinly veiled skepticism at her young age and gender. Reyna pretended not to notice, keeping her salesperson smile fixed firmly in place. She had dealt with pompous men underestimating her before.

“As you can see, Havana Nights offers plenty of fine imported Latin wines already,” Mr. Martinez declared brusquely after a cursory sip of Reyna’s sample. “Besides, my customers have discerning taste.” He handed back the bottle dismissively.

Thanking Mr. Martinez coolly for his time, Reyna drifted towards the bar. If she wasn’t making a business connection tonight, she may as well enjoy watching the festivities.

Though stung by his arrogant manner, Reyna’s smile never wavered. She knew her product’s excellence spoke for itself. This philistine was simply blind to its nuanced quality and value. There would be other, more appreciative buyers elsewhere in the city.

Sipping a crisp mojito, Reyna observed the smartly dressed patrons swaying gracefully to the sultry Latin rhythms. Couples clung together as if in a steamy tropical dream, transported away from real life’s harshness. She felt a pang of loneliness while watching their relaxed intimacy. Since escaping Nicholas, she has poured all her energy into her daughter and work, too wary to let anyone new in.

As Reyna slowly scanned the candlelit room, her breath caught sharply in her throat. Over by the doorway stood two painfully familiar figures: her parents, dressed to the nines as always. Carlos and Elisa Flores embodied old wealth and privilege thanks to her father’s highly successful law firm.

Reyna’s pulse pounded as she quickly lowered her gaze, praying they wouldn’t notice her. She had avoided contact with them since their bitter rejection years ago, when the proud family name was tarnished by her leaving prominent attorney Nicholas amidst swirling scandalous gossip.

Despite Elisa’s superficial charm and Carlos’ jovial bonhomie, Reyna knew the ruthlessness that lay beneath when scandal threatened their vaunted social status. The memory of their cold closing of ranks when she came begging for help still stung, even now. They had made it clear—she ceased to be their daughter from that moment on.

To her dismay, Reyna saw from the corner of her eye as her mother nudged her father and subtly inclined her head in her direction. Carlos’s expression clouded over with barely suppressed thunder as they began making their way through the crowd with grim purpose towards where she sat frozen.

“Well, well…If it isn’t the family’s little black sheep." Elisa purred silkily once within earshot.