What have—
Then Logan leans in to ask if I want another drink, and suddenly I understand the issue. Cristiano warned me he is the jealous type. Clearly, he’s annoyed to see me with Logan, which is ridiculous because what am I supposed to do? Wait in the wings, hoping for a morsel of his attention? Eagerly rush to him after he’s done letting Daniella hang on his arm all night?
I know this is his big grand opening and he has a lot of people he has to greet as the owner and host. I can respect that and keep my distance, but he can’t be frustrated that I’ve made a friend.
“Um, sure, another drink would be great.”
I chance a quick glance back in Cristiano’s direction to see him lean toward a security guard and speak quietly. Just as Simone returns from the bathroom, the guard arrives at my side.
“Miss?”
I smile gently. “Yes?”
“Would you come with me, please?”
“Where?”
For a moment, I think Cristiano has plans to kick me out, which I know is ridiculous as soon as the security guard nods in Cristiano’s direction. “He would like a word with you.”
Simone loses the fight with her wry grin. “Whatan honor. You’ve been summoned!”
Exactly. This is absurd. Sending someone to come and collect me? No.
“I’m sorry to make your job difficult, but please let your boss know I’m not available right now,” I say tightly. Then I turn and eagerly accept the drink Logan passes back from the bar.
I don’t miss Simone’s shocked expression. She lowers her voice. “Do you think that’s a good idea? What if he sends the security guardback?”
“He won’t.”
I sound much more confident than I am. This entire thing has snowballed, but I don’t have it in me to make peace and wave a white flag. All I can do is play it cool and sip my second drink, trying to decide how quickly I can get out of here. I don’t want to ruin Cristiano’s night or distract from his event, but I can’t stand this. I’ve missed him more than I care to admit these last two days—with a desperation that feels completely out of my control.
“Felix is coming,” Simone says, dutifully changing the subject. “I called him just now.”
Some of my sour mood lifts. “Really? I didn’t think he was going to be able to cut out of work early.”
“I’d imagine there was a good bit of groveling with Hugo. Felix mentioned he has to cover two extra shifts to make up for it.”
“So he was eager to see you,” I point out, happy for my friend. Unlike Ethan, Felix has proved to be a decent guy. More than that, actually.
She rolls her eyes. “That or he fancies a free drink…”
I drop my brows and glare at her. “Surely you don’t think Felix went throughallthat trouble just for some passed appetizers and a little cocktail.”
She laughs and shrugs. “Maybe you’re right.” Her attention snags behind me. “Oh, I think they’re about to speak.”
Good. I’ll listen to Cristiano welcome everyone to the grand opening, then I’ll duck out a side door and catch a ride home. I won’t even have to feel bad about ditching Simone if Felix is coming to keep her company.
From a small stage near the center of the restaurant, an older man with trimmed salt-and-pepper hair and a sharp suit speaks into a microphone and quiets the crowd. “Gracias por venir.”
After his brief introduction, he invites Cristiano to join him onstage.
Simone leans in. “Didn’t understand a bloody word of that and I’m pretty decent at Spanish. Sometimes they just talksofast.”
Cristiano is no easier to understand. My Spanish has vastly improved since I first arrived on Ibiza, but not enough to keep pace with Cristiano’s speech about Sabor a Sol. Even without understanding the language, it’s clear he commands the attention of every person in the room. His air of authority is palpable. I cross my arm over my waist and sip my drink, listening to his smooth voice and trying to keep it from winding its way aroundme, tightening like a coil. He thanks a few people, motioning toward them in the crowd. Everyone applauds, and then he holds his drink up in celebration.
“Salud,” he says before taking a small sip of champagne.
Then his predatory gaze immediately finds me, so efficiently he must have known exactly where I stood while he gave his speech. Though he didn’t look at me once as he spoke, he looks at me now as he passes the microphone and champagne to his assistant and starts to cut through the crowd with clear intent. His purposeful strides are a good deterrent against anyone trying to waylay him, but even then, it’s not enough. Twice, people veer into his path and try to stop him, and he smiles politely and murmurs something, all the while keeping his attention on me. It’s like he’s scared I’m going to slip into the crowd and be lost forever.
