Free Bella by Lisa Samson Page A

you.”
    She turned to José and tried her best Marlene Dietrich impersonation. “How do you do?”
    She held out her hand to be kissed.
    José just whistled.
    Oh well.
    â€œLooks pretty good, huh?” he said.
    â€œSure.” She shrugged and took off the scarf.
    â€œJosé?”
    Nina turned and watched as a woman almost as tall as José, and as fair and beautiful as he was dark and handsome, wove through the crowd of shoppers. Her blonde hair moved about her head, cut perfectly. She looked like a model. She probably was one. Oh man. Didn’t she know that it was Nina’s day to have a crisis? That she didn’t need to be standing next to Ms. Perfect and fall down fl at in comparison?
    A baby outfit, a cute little baseball-themed jumpsuit, hung on a hanger from her fingers. A size 0 and a mom? Life was completely unfair for a woman like that to show up on a day like today.
    José whipped around at the sound of his name.
    â€œOh my gosh! José! It is you!”
    â€œHelen.” He’d thought about seeing her, but . . . not here. Not now.
    She reached out, and he had no choice but to hug her in return. It felt so awkward. They’d broken up before the tragedy. She was wealthy, a soccer fan, and traveled all over the world to watch her favorite teams. They met one night after a match, at a bar near Wembly Stadium, and, well, he didn’t want to think about it all right now. They’d had too much to drink.
    â€œLook at you.” She flipped a lock of hair just above his ear. “I barely recognized you under all this hair. How have you been? I haven’t seen you in so long.”
    â€œFine. I mean—”
    How much did she know?
    â€œOh, I’m sorry. I heard about what happened to you, but the stories were so jumbled.”
    He couldn’t talk about this now. He turned to Nina. “This is Nina. Nina, this is Helen.”
    Helen smiled. “Nice dress.” She traced Nina’s outfit with her light blue gaze. “You must really love Mexico, right?”
    José winced. Helen could be such a snob. She didn’t mean to be. She never meant anything badly, it just came out that way. Remarks like this had made José realize that, despite his status as a professional soccer player, he came from humble beginnings.
    Nina smiled and José could see by the way her shoulder tried to meet her ear that she was uneasy. “It’s my work uniform.”
    â€œOh, where do you work?”
    He was going to stop this, for Nina’s sake. “We work for my brother.”
    Helen raised her brows. “Manny?”
    â€œMmm-hmm. I cook at his restaurant.”
    Helen crossed her arms. “What happened to your plans, weren’t you signing with Club—”
    â€œYou know. Plans change.”
    Again. Clueless. Why would Helen begin to think he’d want to talk about that? And in front of Nina. She didn’t know he and Nina weren’t seeing each other.
    Wait. Yes, she did.
    Helen knew that José wouldn’t have dated a humble waitress back in the old days. Trophy women, beautiful specimens of femininity were all he was interested in back then.
    He wondered then what he might have been missing out on with such parameters.
    â€œSo you never played again?”
    Take a hint, por favor .
    â€œNo. Something came up. We have to go. Good to see you.”
    He quickly paid for the scarf with the bills he had in his pocket. “Bye, Helen.”
    He grabbed Nina’s hand and hurried her out of the tent. The quicker he left Helen behind the better, and unfortunately, she now knew where to find him.
    José dropped her hand and gave her the scarf.
    â€œWho was she?” Nina asked, lighting up a cigarette.
    He didn’t want to go through it with Nina. He pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Someone I used to see.”
    â€œSomeone you used to see, hmm? Do you think I’m as pretty as she