Playing for Keeps Read Free

asked, bringing over a bowl of the tortilla chips and a cup of homemade salsa.
    Alicia dipped a chip and smiled. “Only if we’re very lucky.”
    â€œYou got that right,” Maribelle said.
    â€œWell, I’ve got another offer, if you’re interested,” her mother said mysteriously.
    Alicia raised an eyebrow and waited.
    â€œDo you remember my old law school friend Ranya?”
    â€œNot really,” Alicia replied. “But go on.”
    â€œRanya’s at a law firm in Austin, Texas, and she’s got a daughter, Valeria, who is just about your age,” Alicia’s mom explained. “I sent her the write-up that the Miami Herald did on you and Amigas Inc., and she was very impressed.”
    Alicia smiled at the pride she detected in her mother’s voice. The summer before, when she had decided to form Amigas Incorporated, her mother had been her most vocal critic—worrying that a party-planning business was not a serious venture for her daughter. But once she had attended the first quince that Amigas planned, she realized that the company’s goal to create a quinceañera that was more than just a party, but a celebration of a culture and a time-honored tradition welcoming Latina girls into womanhood, was a good one.
    As the business grew and the company began to receive not only more customers than they could handle, but also coverage from local newspapers and TV, Marisol Cruz grew even prouder. By the time Amigas Inc. was featured in the Miami Herald , she was a hundred percent behind the business. She even had seventy-five copies of the article from the paper printed up and sent to her friends and colleagues across the country.
    Mrs. Cruz reached into her bag and pulled out a copy of the article. “Do you remember what they wrote?” she asked. Alicia nodded. Ignoring her daughter’s nod, Mrs. Cruz began reading from the article: “…These bright and resourceful teenagers are masters of the cultural mash-up. The quinceañeras they plan are an effortless mix of the modern and the traditional.”
    â€œ ¡Mamacita, por favor! You’ve read that article a gazillion times!” Alicia protested halfheartedly. She always pretended to be blasé about it, but kept a copy of the same article in her handbag—a red leather barrel that had been a hand-me-down.
    â€œOkay, okay. I’ll stop. But the point is, Ranya’s daughter, Valeria, is turning fifteen, and she would like to fly you and your business partners over to Austin to plan her party during your spring break.”
    Her mother had to be kidding, right? No. She couldn’t be. She wouldn’t mess with her daughter about something like this.
    Jumping up, Alicia did a little victory dance. “Woo-hoo!” Then she stopped. “Okay, wait,” she said. “I need details. Is there a catch?”
    Her mother shook her head. “All I know is, Ranya’s done very well for herself, and her husband’s family is in the oil business. She wrote me that Valeria is a little shy and introverted and that sometimes she has to ask her to speak up just to hear her at the dinner table.” She paused as she grabbed another chip. Alicia crossed her arms and waited. Noting her daughter’s anxious look, Marisol went on. “So, Ranya spent months interviewing dozens of local party-planners and knew they would all torture Valeria by insisting on a Texas-size party and a poufy white dress. She told me that Valeria is very proud of her Tex-Mex culture and wanted to honor it in a way that felt personal—and appropriate for her, not what a planner thought would be right. The family had decided they would have a small, intimate gathering.
    â€œBut when Ranya showed Valeria the profile of Amigas Inc., she got excited,” Marisol continued. “She thought you guys would be able to deliver the kind of party she wanted and told her mom that, with your help,