#where a holiday you dont give a fuck about is constantly shoved in your face for two months

[aroacedavestrider]

uugghhhghhh god its that point of the year where every fifth post i see is about how fall is imminent no matter how many tags i block

[vadaschiquita]

Chiquita | Ch. 3

Chapter 2

It’d been damn near three months since she had contact with Nevada. After finding out who he was and what he did for a living, she had kept the promise she had made to Jess. Mariana was staying away from him for her safety and her peace of mind.

“Trujillo doesn’t date, Mari.”

“Nobody fucks with Trujillo.”

“He’s dangerous, Mariana. Please.”

The pleas of her friend reverberated loudly against her skull. She knew Jess was just trying to protect her, but still, there was something that intrigued Mariana about the ever cryptic Nevada Ramirez. Once she’d learned his history, she started paying close attention. The SUV’s were everywhere in the Heights. Nothing moved, nothing prospered if it didn’t have Nevada’s seal of approval.

She would hear the chatter when walking around her block about someone disappearing for a couple of days only to appear floating on the river, or posted up somewhere bloodied and bruised. She would shake her head, how could I have been so stupid? You really like danger, dont you? She couldn't think about that right now. She couldn't think about Nevada right now. She needed to plan her three-weeks of December and subsequently start sending out her reading material for over the Christmas break that some of her students needed to work on.

Tomorrow, she thought, tomorrow I'll send out the reading list.  Two short stories, two times a week, and that should bring them up to speed with the rest of the class.  

She was out for brunch by herself, she needed to do some work, and what better way than outside of her home where she knew she rarely got any work done.  The small diner was slightly packed.  It was Sunday and the brunch rush was real when she noticed several workers rushing to clear tables and place new table settings, but she brushed it off.  Maybe that was protocol for the small shop.

She felt the breeze of people rushing past her table when she felt a lingering presence in front of her and she looked up, "I knew it was you," Sofía shrieked.

Mariana giggled, "Sofía, how are you?"

"Hungry," she stated with a smile.

Mariana chuckled and shook her head, placing her coffee mug atop the table, "Where's your mami?  Is she here?"

Sofía nodded enthusiastically, "We're here with my tío," she started, "We come here every Sunday for pancakes.  They make the best pancakes.  You should get some!"

Mariana glanced around and noticed two tables with a few of Nevada's men, his sister, and him.  He was staring at Mariana and his niece, "Maybe next time I come by, I'm not really hungry for pancakes today."

The girl nodded and smiled, "Have a good breakfast, Ms. Santos," she finished over her shoulder, returning to her family.

Mariana immediately felt heat course through her body.  She had been doing so good in avoiding Nevada.  Even at school.  One thing she had learned about Nevada was that he was punctual.  He would drop Sofía off at 7:45 am on the dot.  Didn't matter what the weather was, how bad the traffic had been, she could always count on Sofía on being in her classroom at that time, and she had used that knowledge to be out of the classroom at that time.  She had made it her hobby to visit Jess' classroom at said time for a quick conversation.

Jess knew she was doing it to avoid Nevada, and though she didn't like the measurements one had to go through to stay away from the Ramirez family, she appreciated that her friend was being truthful to her word.  But now, Mariana didn't know what to do.  She felt the same way she had felt that night at the club.  She was intrigued by the green-eyed stranger, but a promise was a promise, and she wouldn't go back on a promise just to satisfy her curiosity.

She finished her coffee cup, scribbling in red something across a paper when her waitress dropped off a plate with a bagel.  Each side of the bagel was topped with avocado, brie cheese, and spinach.  And, to top it all off, beautiful poached eggs.

Mariana's mouth gaped, "I—I didn't order this."

"Mr. Ramirez sent it."

Mariana scoffed, looking past the girl's silhouette to the table that housed Nevada and his family.  She shook her head, looking up at the girl, "Please, send it back."

The girl raised her brows, doing a double take, "Miss, I don’t think you should—"

"Send it.  Back."

The girl muttered something underneath her breath, but picked up the plate nonetheless and turned, regarding Nevada briefly.  Mariana did not bother to look up to see his face, yet Nevada smirked at the top of her head.  She’s bold, I'll give her that, he thought to himself, popping some fruit into his mouth.

What was it about this Chiquita that had him completely besotted?  Was it the way she constantly kept dismissing him?  Was it the fact that she didn’t care who he was or what he did?  Was it her blissful ignorance?  Or was it a combination of it all?  Nevada didn’t know, but he was bound to find out.

Everybody knew Nevada Ramirez—King of the Heights—was not a quitter.  He got what he wanted whenever he wanted it, and he wanted... oh, how he wanted her!  And, he was not to stop until he had bedded her.  Then, he would decide if to keeping her around was worth his while.  He had a feeling that she was going to be more than he bargained for, but his sister was right, he was getting old and him playing at still being a teenager was getting boring.  He didn’t pack the same stamina as he used to, but no one in the borough dare question that and, he would never admit to it anyways.

Sofía squirmed besides him, "Sofi," he said evenly, effectively putting a stop to the girl's fidgeting.

Mariana stood then, packing her stack of papers and tapping them on the table to align them beautifully.  She tucked her hair behind her ear and turned on her waist, stuffing them inside an attaché case.  She flagged down the same waitress that had delivered her the plate of food Nevada had chose for her and she smiled at the waitress, nodding her head.  Nevada leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table besides his plate, watching as she leaned back against the booth couch, stretching her leg, and fetching some folded bills out of her front pocket.

The waitress returned with the book, handing it to her.  Mariana called out of the girl and slipped a twenty-dollar bill inside.  The girl beamed at Mariana, most likely thankful for the hefty tip.

Nevada knew what she had ordered, it was the reason he had sent the plate to her table.  Two cups of coffee and a bowl of fruit.  He watched as she breezed past his table, waggling her fingers towards Sofía, but never acknowledging him.  He followed her disappearing form out the door and through the glass windows until she disappeared.  He clenched his jaw, sighing through his nose like a bull when he heard Nina snicker.

"¿Qué?"

"Nothing," she shook her head, smiling.  "You haven’t pined over a girl like that since Darlene from the tenth grade."

Nevada shot a withering look towards his sister, and she snickered again, "When are you going to start minding your own business, huh?"

Nina clicked her tongue, "Who is she anyways?"

Nevada shoved his tongue between his cheek and teeth, clearing the crevice of any food remnants, "That’s your daughter’s teacher."

Nina opened her eyes in amusement, making the same face she used to make when they were younger and she knew he would be getting in trouble with their mother, "Ya era hora que dejaras las putas del diario vivir..."

Nevada sucked his teeth, glaring at his sister, "Still, none of your business.  And, could you please watch your mouth in front of my princesa?" he gestured towards Sofía.

"Please!" Nina defended quickly, "She hears far worse from you, Vada."

Nevada reached inside his leather jacket's pocket, pulling out a wad of cash when one of his men entered the establishment, leaning over him to whisper something in his ear, "Watch.  Your mouth.  And, don’t call me that."

Nina rolled her eyes and Sofía giggled, stuffing her cheeks with more food.  Nevada stood, dropping enough money to cover whatever it was they had ordered, "Where are you going?"

Nevada side-glanced his sister, dropping his eyes to the top of Sofía’s head, "And, you’re sure?" he asked one of his men.  The man nodded and mumbled something near his ear again, "Let’s go," he said lowly, barely audible, but all his men stood.

"It's Sunday, Vada."

Nevada rolled his eyes as he turned, "There’s enough money there.  Take Sofía skating or something," he waved his hand over his shoulder, reaching the door.

Nina scoffed, shaking her head.  What could his brother be possibly up to now?  It wasn't the business.  She knew it wasn’t.  He had people handling his books, people on his payroll that could handle his money, and people that knew better than to cross him.  Whatever happened on the sacred day, Nevada handled it on Mondays.  That was his rule.  Sundays were for disappearing, for having slight peace of mind, for believing that for twenty-four hours he was just Nevada Ramirez—the uncle, the brother, not the kingpin thug.

Whatever it was, he wouldn't tell her, she would have to find out on her own.  And, she would.  She always did.

                                                     * * * 

Mariana had left the diner and decided to swing by the grocery store to pick up some much needed stuff for her upcoming weeks.  She was sifting through the aisles, eyeing every product with scrutiny before tossing it in her small cart.  She hummed along to the music blaring through the ceiling speakers.  She enjoyed her quiet time.  She loved her students, but she was more than ready to spend some quiet, alone time in her small apartment. 

She didn’t have family to go to for the holidays, but she could always count on Jess.  She had invited her over for a wine-heavy Christmas' Eve and though she had said that she needed to think about it, she knew she wasn’t going to turn down the offer.  What was the alternative, really?  Spending time in front of her TV binging on the A Christmas Story marathon they played every year, hogging a blanket, and probably eating some sugar cookies she had picked up at her corner deli.  Yea, that didn’t sound so appealing after all.

She turned her cart, easing her way down the next aisle when she stopped in her tracks.  What they hell was he doing here?  How had he found her?  She was stunned momentarily, but she was able to school her expression before he smirked.  She rolled her eyes and grabbed a packet of granola from the shelf.  She pushed her cart forward, grabbing some granola bars as well.  She eased past him, looking up at the cereal boxes, which one did she want this month?

She grabbed the charms box, "That stuff will rot your teeth," he husked.

She grabbed the oats and dark chocolate chunks box, turning them both to eye at the nutritional value, "Just like cigars and cigarettes will rot your lungs?" She heard Nevada scoff, "That’s what I thought."

She dropped the oats box in cart, placing the charms box back in its place, grabbing instead the cinnamon squares, and tossing them in her cart as well.  She went to push her cart, but it wouldn't give.  She looked up, brown eyes locking on smoldering green.  Nevada smirked, "Chiquita, you’ve been avoiding me."

She looked up at the ceiling and shook her head, "Clearly I've been unsuccessful."

Nevada placed both hands on the cart, "Clearly," he chuffed.  "This is but a mere coincidence."

Mariana sighed, letting go of the cart and walking over to the next shelf and scanning the juice bottles, tucking her hair behind her ear, "A coincidence would be me wishing you to drop dead and you actually dropping dead.  Nothing’s a coincidence when it comes to you, Nevada."

She heard Nevada chuckle softly followed by the click of his heels approaching her, "Learning quick I see," he whispered near her ear.

She shuddered at his proximity and when she took a sharp intake of breath, it took all of her will to not whimper at the distinct smell that was he.  He smelled of spices and wood with a hint of leather.  She was only slightly shorter than him, so her eyesight was fixed on his gold chain.  She admired the diamond incrusted cross with gold Jesus on it.  It was truly a beautiful piece, and the craftsmanship behind was impeccable as well.  She hated being so close to him, so she looked up at him, humming lowly and turning her head to grab at the cranberry-apple juice.

"¿Me vas a seguir ignorando?  You know I’ll win... eventually."

She turned, dumping the juice in the cart, taking advantage of this moment that Nevada wasn’t blocking her path.  She noticed then that the store had been cleared out.  The once lively place now seem ridiculously sterile and somber.  His men paced the front of the store, two on the inside, and two on the outside. There were two cashiers on duty, now too busy on their phones to really care what had happened.

Mariana turned, regarding the man behind her, and she shook her head, picking up the pace as she rounded the next aisle, "Eh, Chiquita, what’s the hurry?" Nevada asked, quickly pacing behind her, "Don’t you know it's rude to turn your back when you’re talking to someone?"

"Nevada, what do you want, huh?" she bit harshly, turning in one quick motion. "What do you want from me?"

Nevada smiled that half smile that to many would wake fear deep within their stomach, but to Mariana, despite her growing frustration, she found that smile... adorable, "Have dinner with me."

"Nevada—"

"I won’t hear anything but a yes.  Just let me know what day works for you, I’ll send Miguel to pick you up."

"No.”

"No?”

"No," she said with conviction.

Nevada smirked, "Who are you trying to convince, yourself or me?" 

She squared her shoulders, "No, Nevada."

Nevada twirled his father’s ring and smirked, pondering the idea of being turned down once again.  He hummed, taking slow, deliberate steps towards and he saw the flicker of anticipation that crossed her eyes.  He pursed his lips, in that smug way only he could manage and her breath hitched.  He saw it, and heard it too.  He brought his hand to fingers to her forehead, moving an offending strand of hair that had stuck to her skin when she whipped around with all that fire in her eyes.  He liked that.  He liked it too much, to the point he found himself thinking what other things and moments caused her to seethe the way she was doing right now.

She tensed at the feel of his long fingers across her face.  He was careful and gentle, as if he were treating a foreign valuable he dare not break.  But she wouldn't kid herself.  Jess had told her as much, Nevada Ramirez does not date, or had she forgotten that already?  No.  She knew what he was capable of.  The chatter of the borough at the school.  She knew him.  Or at least, she thought she did.

His fingers stroked her hair, quickly finding the ends of her bob, and she closed her eyes.  She had stopped breathing, making herself dizzy with her lack of oxygen and Nevada’s lingering scent.  She focused on her beating heart, loud, and erratic in her ears.  Her fists were balled at her sides, her nails slowly digging into her palms, but she rather this than face the brightness of his viridian eyes.  She felt his breath on her cheeks and she gasped, bracing herself for whatever impending faith she may have.

A beat.

A beat.

She opened her eyes to find herself staring at the misty overcast of light that filtered through the glass windows of the storefront.  Nevada was gone, and so were his men.  The only people that remained were the cashiers and herself.  She sighed, dropping her facade and with it her resolve, and she whimpered, feeling the perspiration cover places of her body she never thought possible in the middle of winter in New York.

She huffed, turning to continue to push her cart, "Fuck you, Nevada Ramirez.  Fuck. You!"