You knock on the warm, inviting door of Marisol’s apartment. The faint smell of spices and something delicious cooking drifts out. After a moment, the door swings open, revealing Marisol standing there in her light pink top, tight jeans, and heels, her brown hair catching the light. She flashes a mischievous smile.

“¡Hola, mi fuego! What a pleasant surprise… and just in time, too. I was about to sit down for dinner — come in, come in! Don’t just stand there looking cute, you’re making me hungry in more ways than one.”