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“Mrs

Martinez?”

“Please, call me Paloma”

“Then you must call me Quinn I am so honored to be a part of Yelena’s Quinceanera today”

“Yelena, this is Ms Quinn She’ll be doing your makeup today”

Her eyes widen “Maot me a makeup artist!” She juown, and I beaht The moment passes and we head to the roolish is spoken Her friends and family tease her while she sits in the chair and I carefully accent her cheekbones, lips, and eyes,it Proud, I step back and admire my work

“What do you think, Paloma?” I ask

“She’s gorgeous Ack, rown up” I hand her mother the hand mirror and hold my breath as she moves the mirror in front of Yelena

The girl gasps “Is that me?”

“Sure is, darling,” I say as the warm and fuzzies start

“But I’m so pretty,” Yelena whispers Her eyes water and I pat o aterproof mascara

“You were always beautiful, mija”

It’s like being in the h as I continue on to the next person’sentrance I feel like an interloper, but they insist I stay to watch the opening dance at least I lean against the wall as she approaches the handsome boy dressed in a white tuxedo with a pink vest

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you around the famalia”

I turn toward the y jeans and a white T-shirt He stands out like a sore thumb in the sea of nicely dressed men and women Tattoos wind their way around his neck and arms