“Do not change anything, Domina.” Rafael claps his hand on my shoulder as I try to return to my seat. His palm hits one of my many bruises from last night, and I grit my teeth against the pain. “Excellent work. Send that to Cortez as soon as we finish the briefing.”
“Thank you,” I manage, ducking out from under his heavy hand. “But I must proofread the speech several more times. There was a spelling mistake on the second page, and at least two sentences on the final page need to be changed. They do not flow well.”
“It sounded perfect to me,” Omar says from the doorway. “You honor us with your talent, Domina. You’re an asset to this campaign.”
My cheeks flame, though my bronzed skin hides the worst of my embarrassment. “Thank you, Omar. But most of the credit belongs to Manuel. My words are only as good as his platform.”
Larissa shoots me a look. If we were alone, she would tell me to take the compliment. That I earned it. Maybe I have.
I fought for this job when Cortez first ran for vice president five years ago. With each speech, I proved myself. I let Rafael nitpick every sentence. Demand tiny, insignificant changes so he could feel important. Or make me feel small.
But then, something changed. The newspapers started quoting Cortez’s speeches—my speeches—in their articles. Cortez and José Garcia, Panama’s current president, went from ten points behind to fifteen points ahead in under a month.
Now, everyone is counting on me to give them another miracle.
* * *
Larissa followsme back to my office, so close on my heels, if I stop short, she’ll slam right into me.
“Tell me everything,” she says when she shuts the door behind her. “Is that why you bailed on drinks with the rest of the staff?”
Sinking down into my chair, I rub my sore shoulder. “No. I wanted to come, but the speech still needed work. Around six, I took a break out on my balcony, and I heard something.”
I tell hermostof the story, minimizing Leo’s part in saving me—and what I now know about him. But Larissa has worked with me for three years, and in all that time, I haveneversaid more than two words about a man.
If she knew I answered his video call at 1:00 a.m.—from my bed—I would never hear the end of it.
“Did the police find out what he wanted?” she asks.
I shake my head, thankful the aspirin did its job. “He refused to say a word to them.”
Larissa rests her elbows on my desk, her eyes wide. “Do they know who he is?”
“He had no identification. Unless his fingerprints are on record…” My stomach flips as I hear his words in my head.
“You were not supposed to be here.”
You. Notno one.You.
Did he know who I was?
“Domina? Are you all right?”
I jerk, and my travel mug rattles on my desk. “I’m tired. It was hard to sleep last night.”
“Youstayedat your apartment?” Shock plays over her heart-shaped face. “Honey, you should have gone to a hotel.”
The police told me the same thing. But leaving my home? That felt wrong.
“Leo was next door. He gave me his number.”
“His…number?Youlikehim!” Larissa’s voice rises half an octave. “I need to know everything. Right now.”
I cannot tell her the truth. Leo would never forgive me. Larissa may be a friend, but she is not one to keep secrets. And Mina is traveling—three continents in four days—and I will not be able to talk to her until tomorrow.
“Leo checked on me after the police left. But there is nothing between us. We are neighbors. That’s all.”
If only I believed my own words.
