Beth nodded sheepishly and started backing away. “Also, the chef is just about to serve lunch while we head back to dock.”
Isabel stepped away from me and smiled, happy to follow Beth. I would have preferred to stay down in my stateroom with her the rest of the trip. I never did get to learn what Isabel needed my help with.
“Am I allowed to—” Juan Carlos starts now, but I’m quick to cut him off.
“No.”
“Joder.”
I feel some morsel of relief after I drop Juan Carlos off and I can scrub my hand down my face and let my forehead fall against the steering wheel. I can’t remember ever feeling this unraveled by a woman. I’ve had great relationships, and I’ve experienced if not enduring, lifelong love, then respect and adoration and all the rest. I didn’t know this was a possibility: me, totally distracted by someone, so much so that I don’t even realize I’ve been sitting in Juan Carlos’s driveway until he comes back out and taps on my window.
I look up, and he motions for me to roll it down. Then he passes me an open beer.
“You want to come in for a bit?”
I don’t miss the laughter in his eyes.
“Not really.”
“Going to just sit in my driveway?”
“I might.”
He clears his throat, likely having a hard time restraining himself. “Does she know she has you like this?”
I down a heavy sip of beer. “Who?”
The shit-eating grin he offers is enough to make me want to punch him. Because I’m an adult and don’t want to have to tend to bloody knuckles, I shove his beer back at him and roll my window up, muffling his string of rapid-fire Spanish. He thinks he has it all figured out, the punk. I flip him the bird and reverse down his driveway, wondering how the hell I’m going to stay away from Aura tonight.
The benefit of ignoring my work for most of the day means I have a mountain of calls, texts, and emails waiting for me whenI make it home. The workaholic monster in me rubs his hands together with glee. I run and lift weights in my gym, shower, change into comfortable clothes, and spend the rest of the day at my desk looking over a business proposal from a chef I’ve teamed up with for two other restaurants on the island. He’s from Texas and has a flair for combining unusual flavor profiles. This new high-end eatery is inspired by his love of barbecue and slow-smoked meats.
I’m checking the architectural renderings of the place, trying to decide if I like the orientation of the dining room, when my phone buzzes with a text.
Ramón:I’ve got Antonio walking Elle home tonight. I will have him text me when she’s inside her building.
If Ramón thinks it’s weird I’m having security escort Isabel home, he doesn’t share his opinion with me. He’s been on my team since the start. Loyal, and more importantly, quiet.
I put down my phone and look at my computer’s clock. I didn’t realize how late it was, already past two in the morning. I ate dinner here at my desk and thought that was just a little while ago; I guess not.
I’m not normally up this late. In the early days, when I was managing my first bar, I put in enough late nights to shave ten years off my life. Nowadays, I make a habit of being in bed by eleven most nights.
I keep my attention on the time as minutes tick by, all the while considering what I know of Antonio. He’s new, young. Is he good-looking? I don’t fucking know. I can’t remember his face.
I grab my phone and text Ramón back.
Cristiano:Is she home?
Ramón’s response is instantaneous.
Ramón:No reply yet.
I set my phone on my desk, screen side down, and refocus my attention on work, trying to dredge up a single fuck about these renderings.
My phone buzzes and I leap at it.
Ramón:Still nothing.
I dial him and, as soon as he picks up, ask, “Does the guy have a peg leg or something? Why’s it taking him so long to walk her home?”
