“Much.” We slowly walk side by side out the glass doors to one of the many garden areas. “How was your massage?”
“I can’t tell you. I didn’t end up getting one. I’ve been playing phone tag with my aunt and waiting on the car people.”
That’s right. I’d forgotten about the whole thing with the concierge and the tow truck. I stop walking. The lightness I felt a few minutes ago has been replaced by a harsh return to reality. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all good. I have my trusty old heating pad. It works as well as any masseuse.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Anyway, I have some great news and some bad news to share with you.”
“Okay. Give me the bad news first. I’d rather get it over with.”
“When the tow truck driver turned up, it turned out we had two flats instead of one. I was hoping the shop it’s been taken to would be able to put on a new set of tires today. But when I spoke to the mechanic, he let me know the ones we need are special order. It’ll be three days before he can get them in.”
I inhale air sharply. “That stinks. Our schedule was already ambitious. Spending two extra days here isn’t what we wanted, but there isn’t much we can do about it. We can’t drive without tires.”
“Well, we could return the rental and get a new one. But the fees for returning it in its current condition are going to be astronomical.” He shifts his weight from foot to foot. “It’s better to wait it out.”
“No, I agree. What’s the good news?”
“Do you remember when the concierge mentioned us staying here for two nights?”
I nod.
“Well as it turns out, Tía Yesenia is giving me an early Christmas present. We have an all-expenses-paid stay for the next two nights.”
“All expenses paid,” I repeat.
“Uh-huh. She reserved the best room at the resort for us. We don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to, but I thought considering the circumstances...” He trails off.
“I’m not one to turn my nose up at a gift like that. If your aunt has already paid for everything, we’re staying. Unless you think we shouldn’t.”
“Why wouldn’t we?” His tone shifts to confusion.
“I don’t know. Maybe you’d want to enjoy your gift alone.”
“No. Tía Yesenia was crystal clear that this was for the pair of us. Remember, she thinks we’re a couple.”
I nod. “We’d better make sure we take more photos here so we can show them to her when we meet.”
“Definitely.” He pulls out a key card from his pocket. “Come on, let’s go check out the room. Javier said the private elevator is near the reception desk.”
I dry swallow. A private elevator to the presidential suite. Is this really my life right now?
The door swings open to the living room and my jaw drops. This is hands down one of the nicest rooms I’ve ever seen. “I think my whole apartment could fit inside here.” I walk over to the window and draw the curtains back. The entire wall is a window that overlooks the ocean. The water is a stunning turquoise color, filled with tiny dots of seabirds, surfers, and boats.
Spinning around, I take in the remainder of the room. There are two couches, a recliner, a glass coffee table, a fireplace, and an entertainment set with a large TV. The dark-green walls are tastefully decorated with seascape portraits of what I’m guessing is the Valencia area.
I continue my tour, entering the dining room next. The wooden walls are adorned with a hundred different seashells. There’s a long rectangular table that could fit about ten people, surrounded by light-blue chairs. The place settings are made from crystal and fine china. I pick up a wineglass and turn it over in my hand—there’s a pattern of tiny seashells. “I wonder if this is all handmade.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Fernando says, casually leaning against the door frame. “This is the nicest suite I’ve ever stayed in, but I just noticed we may have a slight problem.”
I return the glass to the table and face him. “What do you mean?”
“There’s only one bedroom.”
“Oh.” My mouth drops open. Of all the possible problems, only one bed has never crossed my mind. One of my rules for us travelingtogether has been that we have to have separate rooms wherever we’re staying, but I guess that’s about to fly out the door.
“Um, I think we can manage. That is if you don’t mind me claiming the living room sofa,” I say.
“Nuh-uh.” Fernando’s brows knit together. “The bedroom is yours. If anyone is going to be sleeping on the sofa, it’s me.”
