“Yes, sir,” he responds, suddenly seeming awake. “But if you want to find the girl, it’s not inside the building you’ll find her, but over there.” He points to a staircase cluttered with boxes, seeming to lead toward the basement of someplace, right where I noticed the broken windows.
I try not to show shock, but I think I fail miserably because after taking the hundred-dollar bill from my hand, he shrugs.
“Boston is an expensive city.”
I don’t answer, already starting to descend the stairs.
Despite the foul odor and the appearance of a horror movie set, I notice there isn’t a single piece of paper on the ground. The cleanliness of the place contrasts starkly with the smell and air of abandonment. When I finally stand in front of a door with bits of wood peeling off and as secure as a child’s piggy bank, I hesitate before knocking.
Chapter 8
I’m so shocked when I open the door that I can’t speak. I’m sure my mouth is gaping open like a tunnel.
My new avatar for hot nights—for the past three hot nights, to be completely honest—and also the one inadvertently responsible for my dismissal, stares back at me.
It takes me only a few seconds to become aware of how we must appear, of the differences between us, real life screaming and demanding entry into my fantasies. I observe the impeccably tailored and clean black suit, just as sharp as the first time we met. The stern and unfriendly face. You can almost smell the power emanating from him.
However, there’s another thing that makes my face burn, and it’s not the realization of that beautiful man just inches from my body. He’s not looking me in the eyes now, but over my shoulder, and I have no doubt what he can see. In my one-room space, he wouldn’t take more than a minute to inspect the entire area.
The small bed in one corner.
An open coat rack with the only two coats I own.
My suitcase, which also serves as a dresser, a portable electric stove, some groceries, and the only truly luxurious item I own: my beloved De’Longhi coffee maker, which I saved up tips for over three months to buy and gave myself as a belated birthday present.
Oh, I can’t forget my well-worn books, read so many times they’re practically falling apart.
I really wanted to buy a Kindle so I could get free novels on Amazon, because even though I don’t have internet at home, the café did. But that’s just another project to be postponed. After losing my job, I need to save every penny to get by and pay the rent.
“Olívia.”
My cheeks are now truly burning as I understand that this is real. The man with the billionaire politician look is at my doorstep.
“What are you doing here, sir?” I don’t want to be rude, but right now there are so many different things running through my mind that I can’t sort them out. Unfortunately, none of them are very pleasant to think about.
I wonder whether he might have come to say he left the tip by mistake and, as Thomas said, really felt ripped off, or worse. Maybe he wants something in return for the money, although he doesn’t seem like that kind of man.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“No.”
His eyebrow rises, and I wonder if he’s ever heard a ‘no’ in his life. “Why not?”
“Sorry if I’m being rude, but serving you at the café doesn’t make you my friend, and I don’t let customers into my house. I don’t even know your name.”
His eyes widen in surprise, but he recovers quickly. “You’re right. You shouldn’t let just anyone in.” He speaks as ifhe’s patting a child on the back, which annoys me. “My name is Guillermo Caldwell-Oviedo. I have a job offer for you,” he says, without reaching out to shake my hand.
I’m shocked not only by the surname but also by what he just said. The Caldwell-Oviedos are practically American royalty, although I only know the faces of two of them: the golfer, Rafe Caldwell-Oviedo, and the actor, Gael.
What kind of proposal could a man from a family like his have for me?
I analyze him again without reaching a conclusion.
I may be inexperienced, but I’m not stupid. My mother taught me very well to be cautious when alone with a man.
At the café, I felt relaxed because I thought no one would try to force anything on me—which turned out to be a mistake after Thomas’s attack—but here at home it’s different. He’s a total stranger, and this is my territory.
“What kind of proposal?” I ask, suspicious.
