Rebeca keeps her gaze fixed on her for an eternal second before answering.
“No… I guess not.”
Beside her, Ariadna clears her throat discreetly, a small but deliberate sound that reminds her they aren’t alone. Rebeca blinks, as if returning from a place far away.
“Martina,” she says quickly, almost hastily, “this is Ariadna. My editor.”
She makes a small gesture with her hand.
“And the one who’s kept me from going crazy since I arrived in the city.”
Ariadna raises her hands in a defensive gesture, smiling mischievously.
“Don’t be silly. You’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. It’s just that you like to dramatize things.”
She approaches Martina naturally and gives her two kisses on the cheeks, quick but warm.
“It’s nice to finally meet you. Rebeca has told me so much about you.” Rebeca glares at her, and Ariadna flashes an amused look.
Martina responds politely, though her attention remains fixed on Rebeca. Then she lowers her head slightly as a discreet, almost guilty smile forms on her lips. She says nothing. But something in her expression reveals that she liked those words. Very much.
For a few seconds, the group continues to exchange casual remarks, but Martina’s attention remains fixed on Rebeca. There’s too much electricity floating between them to ignore. Every time one breathes, the other feels the movement of the air.
Finally, Martina tilts her head to one side and then gestures toward the bar.
“Why don’t we grab a drink together?”
She says it in a casual tone. But they both know this isn’t just any invitation. It’s a door opening, even though neither is sure she wants to walk through it.
Rebeca hesitates for a few seconds. Her hands clench around her leather jacket, but in the end she nods. Because she knows full well that she won’t be able to escape now.
“Sure. I’d love to.”
They step away from the group naturally, as if it were the most logical thing in the world. They walk toward the bar as they realize that the space between them is alive.
The bartender approaches, drying his hands on a rag.
“What can I get you?”
“A gin and tonic, please,” Martina asks.
Rebeca repeats the same order, almost in a whisper.
As they wait, an uncomfortable silence settles between them. Martina leans slightly against the bar, her forearms resting on the wood, while Rebeca remains standing, trying to find something to focus on without noticing just how beautiful Martina is.
It’s Rebeca who breaks the silence.
“Didn’t Julia come?”
Martina turns her head toward her, slowly.
“No. She stayed home to work.”
Rebeca nods slowly, her eyes fixed on the ice floating in the glass the bartender has just set down in front of her.
“I see.”
“Cora was able to leave the boy with his grandparents, so we decided to treat ourselves a little,” Martina adds a moment later.
