Playing for Keeps Read Online Free PDF Page B

kitchen whites tended a giant open barbecue pit, and dozens of people crowded the rustic property, enjoying their meals on weathered wooden picnic tables.
    â€œI hope you like it,” Valeria said. “It’s a huge family favorite.”
    Standing in the parking lot, looking at the muddy grass fields, the three girls took a moment to consider their footwear. Alicia was wearing mules with two inch heels. Carmen was wearing a pair of sand-colored designer espadrilles, and Jamie, like the majority of the Salt Lick customers, was wearing boots. But Jamie’s boots were made of a very light butter-colored suede that would have been ruined by one trek across the field.
    â€œIs there a paved walkway to the tables?” Carmen asked, voicing the concern of all of them. “I hate to seem overly citified. But these are my favorite espadrilles, and it took me almost a year to save for them.”
    Valeria, who was wearing a pair of perfectly broken-in red cowboy boots, politely stifled a giggle. “A walkway? You are kidding, right?”
    Alicia’s mother, still talking animatedly to Valeria’s mother, bounded past them. Gaz followed, as if he were being pulled by an invisible barbecue string, with a big, silly, feed-me-now grin on his face.
    The girls stood in the parking lot, torn between the growling in their bellies and the incredible smell of slow-cooked ribs wafting from the open pit, and the very real consideration that they were each about to ruin their favorite shoes, shoes they’d worn with the intention of looking fierce, fabulous, and flawless while visiting a new city.
    Then a table opened up near the parking lot, and Valeria grabbed it; it was now or never. Ever so daintily, they tiptoed across the ground, holding their breath. To strangers, they probably looked anything but fierce. Instead, they looked like timid cats near water.
    â€œOh, wow,” Valeria said, when the girls made it to the table, breathing heavy sighs of relief as they sat down, shoes somehow unscathed. “I hope you brought more practical footwear for the rest of your trip.”
    â€œMy other shoes are sandals,” Alicia said.
    â€œMy other shoes are pumps,” Carmen said.
    â€œWe’ve got to get you chicas boots,” Valeria said.
    â€œBut I am wearing boots,” Jamie pointed out.
    Valeria shook her head. “Real boots. Cowboy boots.”
    Before she could further assess—or diss—their footwear, a waitress in a blue and white gingham shirt and jeans looped around their table, passing out menus, glasses of ice water, and baskets of warm corn bread.
    â€œSo, what do you recommend here?” Carmen asked turning to her host. “Everything smells so good.”
    Valeria’s hair was in her face again, and she distractedly pushed it to the side. “By all accounts, all the meat is good,” she said quietly. “But I can’t really advise you, because I’m a vegetarian.”
    Alicia had mentioned this to Jamie back in Miami, after receiving Valeria’s first e-mail. Even so, Jamie looked a bit surprised, as if it just didn’t seem possible. “That must be hard, living in a place where meat being simmered over a campfire is the norm.”
    Valeria smiled. “Actually, it’s sort of just the opposite. Seeing how closely people here are tied to the land, I respect the fact that many of the people I know don’t eat meat carelessly. They know and care for the animals.”
    A few minutes later, the girls watched as she happily dug in to a platter of potato salad, mustard greens, and baked beans that the waitress had provided.
    Jamie, who’d ordered a side of greens with her ribs, took a bite and then groaned happily. “These greens are more delicious than any leafy vegetable has the right to be.”
    Alicia nodded, her mouth full. When she finally swallowed, she added, “These are the best baked beans I’ve ever had in