When Javi Dumped Mari - Softcover

Sosa, Mia

 
9798217044306: When Javi Dumped Mari
Softcover
ISBN 13: 9798217044306
Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group, 2025

Inhaltsangabe

A Most Anticipated Book of 2025

NPR • People • Bustle • Paste Magazine • Latinx in Publishing • BookBub


The USA Today bestselling author of The Worst Best Man is back with a fun and flirty rom-com about a pact between friends that goes awry when one of them suddenly decides to get married.

One engagement. Two best friends. Three’s a crowd.

On the eve of their college graduation, best friends Javier Báez and Marisol Campos swore never to date someone the other doesn’t approve of. Now, almost a decade later, Javi has a problem. Mari, the woman he’s secretly pined for since sophomore year, is engaged—and Javi didn’t even get the chance to vet the Pedro Pascal knockoff she plans to marry.

A successful entertainment lawyer in Los Angeles, Mari is no longer seeking Javi’s dating advice or waiting for him to declare his love. Instead, she’s made a different pact—with herself. And to succeed, Mari’s vowing to build a future with someone who wants to commit to her.

With his life and career finally on track, Javi’s ready to confess his feelings. Except Mari’s changed the script and moved on without him. Javi has just six weeks to convince Mari this marriage is a flop. If that means he needs to ruffle some feathers to help her avert disaster, well, he’s up for the challenge. After all, isn’t that what best friends are for?

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Mia Sosa is a USA Today bestselling author of romantic comedies and contemporary romances that celebrate our multicultural world. She has received praise from The Washington Post, Bustle, NPR, Entertainment Weekly, Popsugar, Buzzfeed, Oprah Daily, and many more. A New York City native, she now lives in Maryland with her college sweetheart, their two book-obsessed daughters, a gentle Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, and one adorable rescue cat that rules them all.

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Chapter 1

Javi

Now

I'm not the kind of person who fidgets, but tonight I can't stop messing with every object on this table. The pepper shaker isn't close enough to the saltshaker. The candle centerpiece should be shifted three centimeters to the right. The tiny ripples in the cream linen tablecloth need to be smoothed out too. Now that I think about it, where are those little sugar packets for our after-dinner coffee? Mari loves her café con un montón de azúcar like no one else I know.

And where's my best friend anyway?

I glance at my watch, then loosen my tie as I scan the small group of people lingering near the host station. Maybe I shouldn't have dressed up for the occasion. Not that this is a special occasion exactly, but to me, it's a big deal, so I figured I'd look the part of a guy who's going places. Overkill? Perhaps. Still, Mari's going to be floored when I tell her about the recent changes in my life: a spot to call home that isn't a glorified frat house; excellent career prospects on the horizon; a therapist to help me process years of suppressed emotions. These are huge personal milestones-all of them long overdue and meant to show Mari that I'm on my way to becoming a worthy partner. Mari would probably say I have a lot of nerve being impatient now; given how long it's taken me to get my shit together, she'd be a thousand percent correct.

I survey the dining room, my attention snagging on a man who's tapping a spoon against his wineglass. He stands, presumably to address his guests, and because this stranger's business isn't mine-a phrase Mari jokingly imprinted on my brain years ago-I look away.

The absence of a suitable distraction means I can no longer ignore my clammy palms and bouncing knees. Annoyed by my own restlessness, I reread our latest text exchange.

Me: we still on for 7 at Bella Trattoria?

Mari: definitely

Me: can't wait to see you

Mari: same :-)

Mari's never stood me up, so I'm not worried that she won't show. She probably got held up at work. I'll just send her a quick text to be sure she's on her way.

Me: everything okay?

Me: not a problem if you need a rain check

I'd hate to miss out on the opportunity to see Mari tonight, but I don't want to place any undue pressure on her. Besides, if I have anything to say about it-and Mari's suggested on numerous occasions that I do-we'll have plenty of time to spend together while I'm here in California.

The moment I take a sip of water, someone settles a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. I look behind me, and there she is: the woman who's captured my heart in a vise.

Mari rounds our table and slips into her seat, then takes a deep, steadying breath. "Hey, sorry to make you wait. I had to run to the restroom."

She gives me a weak smile, places her hands in her lap, and centers all of her attention on the bifold card promoting the restaurant's cocktail specials.

No kiss on the cheek. No hug. No eye contact, for that matter. Her placid expression suggests she isn't particularly upset, but she also doesn't seem to be herself. I'll find out what's up in the next few minutes. Neither of us has much patience for bullshit. In the meantime, I can't help but stare at her, taking in her glowy tan skin; the gorgeous curly hair skimming her shoulders; the full, glossy lips that always captivate me when she's talking.

"It's good to see you, M," I say, shifting in my seat. "You look beautiful."

She blushes, her gaze slowly lifting to mine. It's the first sign of the Mari I'm used to. The one who never quite knows how to take a compliment.

"Oh, stop. I'm the same ol' me. But you? You look fantastic, Javi." Waggling her brows, she adds, "Que gato."

We quietly eye each other, matching smiles on our faces, and my spirits lift. We're good. Of course we're good. Now that my mind's at ease, I can't contain myself any longer and blurt out, "I have good news!"

Giving Mari a secretive grin, I reach into the messenger bag at my feet and grab the rough draft of the musical script she's been urging me to finish for years. It's done. Finally done. Well, the bones of it. And yeah, there's still a ton of work to do before it's ready for showtime-the music and half of the lyrics, for starters-but this is a symbolic end to the rut I've been in, and I'm in a celebratory mood.

The brightness in her eyes dims, and her shoulders slump, immediately putting me on high alert. "I have news too," she says less enthusiastically.

I let the libretto slip from my hand. It lands at the bottom of my bag, the faint thump of its pages making me flinch. The book can wait. Because she didn't say her news was good, and my antenna when it comes to Mari couldn't be more fine-tuned.

"You first," I say, peering at her closely.

She reaches for her water glass and takes a long sip, then leans forward, as though she has something urgent to say. "Listen, I'm sorry I didn't give you a heads-up sooner, but I brought someone with me. He's parking the car."

I relax into my seat and blow out a slow breath. Jesus, is that all? A random date I can handle. These men are never worthy of her anyway. "I thought you were going on a romance hiatus? That's what you told me in the fall."

"It ended," she says, her face as blank as an untouched canvas. "Didn't get a chance to tell you."

I casually park an elbow on my chair's armrest. "So, who is he? Another former classmate from law school?" I chuckle. "Damn, that guy was a pendejo to rival all pendejos."

Mari twists her lips into a half smile and playfully rolls her eyes. "Don't remind me. He's married now, and I pray for his partner daily." Straightening her shoulders, she adds, "But seriously, this new guy's great, and I really hope you like him. His name is Alex Cordero. We, uh . . . we work together at the firm."

The passing mention of her father's entertainment law firm irks me. It's just another tool Luiz Campos uses to exert control over his daughter. She'd be better off someplace else, where her talents aren't wasted, but her career choices are just that-hers-and I tend to give a wide berth to any subject that relates to her dad.

Wait. A frisson of alarm runs down my spine when I focus on what she said about her date: But seriously, this new guy's great. By agreement, I'm supposed to be the judge of that. I mean, considering we've been gatekeeping each other's relationships the past two years, that's literally my job. And as for Mari, I have yet to meet someone who passes muster. Hell, I don't even pass muster, but I'm willing to live trying.

I lean forward conspiratorially. "Still, I'm here to do my duty as your best friend. Tell me what you need, an interrogation or a shakedown?"

Most people are subjected to interrogations; shakedowns are reserved for individuals who've already raised a few red flags. Either way, this guy will be a blip in Mari's history once I'm done with him.

"Neither," Mari says. "Just do me a favor and get to know him organically, okay? No third degree. No snarky remarks. I want you to give Alex a fair chance."

Well, damn. She's never imposed any stipulations on my assessment before. Is she into this Alex guy? Does she want me to rubber-stamp what she already knows? In all the time we've been vetting each other's dates, our mandate has been unfailingly clear: approve or disapprove. Except Mari's essentially telling me she won't be swayed by my opinion-as if it's too late for me to do anything. I'm fucking stumped by this change in the status quo, but I eventually gather enough wits to respond. "Sure, sure. Whatever you need."

Mari briefly closes her eyes and exhales, then glances at the restaurant's revolving door.

"Is everything okay?" I ask, unsure what to make of her mood....

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Verlag
Penguin Publishing Group
Erscheinungsdatum
2025
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 13 
9798217044306
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
449
Kontakt zum Hersteller
G.P. Putnam's Sons
https://www.penguin.com/putnam/

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