I told him how my grandmother had taught me the chocolate-making process with patience and determination; how I’d improved some of her recipes and made them my own; how I’d decorated the shop and even got a latrine in the back for our customers. From time to time, our hands accidentally touched. I recoiled as if his fingers were flames. As much as I liked his proximity, I had an image, a reputation to maintain. And so did he.

“So what did you do for fun?” he said.

“For fun? What do you mean?”

“What else did you do besides work?”

I was quiet for a moment.

“Well, my work was fun. I did what I loved.”

“Yes, but there’s more to life than work, even if it’s fun, right?”

I folded the napkin with my drawing into a tiny square. “What do you do for fun?”

“Well, you’ve seen my life. I come here, I fish, occasionally I go on long walks, I read.”

I lifted an eyebrow.

“I do.” He flashed a smile—it was disarming.

“And you go out with numerous women.”

He turned serious. “Not really, Puri. I may have exaggerated my amorous conquests some, just to test you, back when I didn’t know if you were—”

“Including those women?” I pointed my chin toward the door, where the prostitutes had just walked through.

“Including those women.”

“What about your family?”

Martin sat back. “We should go. They’re about to close.”

I was starting to think it was no coincidence that Martin always avoided going into details about his past.

* * *

Martin offered to drop me at the hacienda, but I thought it would be strange for two men to ride a horse together.

“Nobody’s watching,” he said.

It was dark outside and the weather had finally cooled down. I hadn’t realized until I stepped out of the bar how dizzy I was. People often said it was the cold air that got you drunk, not the alcohol. I never believed it—until now.

“No, I’ll go back with my sisters.” My speech was slurred.

“They probably left already. It’s one in the morning.”

I noticed then that the crowd had already dispersed. How unkind of me not to tell my sisters I was leaving the party with Martin.

I hesitated, but climbed on the back of his horse, Melchor, nonetheless. I did my best not to touch Martin, and instead, rested my hands on the horse’s rear, attempting to hold my balance as the animal started to move.