Grace sat on the sofa, curling her knees to her chest. Maybe Alma was right that she needed to do something, to get out of her comfort zone and live a little. She’d moved across the world, which seemed like a good step, but after a bit of exploring, she’d been doing the same thing she’d been doing in Chicago, tucking herself away in her room and trying to avoid the world. As much as she could logically tell herself she needed to get out, however, her grief didn’t want to listen. It wanted a bed and darkness and reality TV show repeats. She wanted to feel numb, but the pain was always there, right under the surface. Even in the moments when she managed to forget, just for a moment, the ache was there waiting to surge up again.
Alma walked back toward Grace and held out her cell phone. “For you,” she said casually, as if Grace would be expecting a random phone call in Spain.
Grace scrunched up her face, but Alma gestured again, waiting for Grace to take the phone.
“Hello?”
“Graciela.” The voice on the other end of the line was deep and stern, and Grace’s skin felt instantly warm.
“Rafael.” She glanced at Alma, confused. Alma just shrugged and picked up her magazine.
“I need your help with something.” His voice made it sound like this was more of a command, rather than a request, but she supposed Rafael was used to commanding.
“You need my help?” Grace’s voice was incredulous and a bit sharp.
Rafael’s tone softened a bit. “Yes, can you meet? I’d like to talk about it with you in person. Tomorrow?”
On what planet could Rafael possibly need her help with something? She wouldn’t have even been able to imagine himaskingfor her help, except that he’d just done it. “I have a class in the morning.”
“After your class then.”
She hesitated.
“I promise it’s not a strange request, Grace. Just meet me tomorrow after your class.”
“Where?” she asked, trying to ignore the disappointment that he hadn’t called her “Graciela” again.
“You said you’ve never been to the Alhambra, correct? Let’s meet there. Kill two birds with one stone, as they say.”
The Alhambra? Her brain wasn’t functioning properly, and she couldn’t seem to comprehend anything he was saying. Was this some kind of tourism outing? What in the world did he want?
“Fine,” she said at last. “I’ll get your number from Alma.”
“Good.” Rafael released a soft breath that seemed to take over the line. “Tomorrow.”
“Yes,” Grace replied, unsure why something seemed to be crawling down and settling in her stomach, dread or excitement or desire, she wasn’t sure. “Tomorrow.”
CHAPTERSIX
Rafael paced outsidethe main entrance to the Alhambra, though he wasn’t sure why he was nervous. Maybe it was because everything was happening so quickly. Christian had already made an offer to purchase the cave dwelling in Sacromonte, and by all accounts, the paperwork to turn it into an exhibit was simpler than expected. It wasn’t lost on Rafael that things went faster and smoother when you had millions of dollars to throw at every potential problem. Christian was eager to reserve moving vans and hire art handlers to transport some of the paintings to the cave, but Rafael was still at a loss. How to hang the paintings, how to organize them and light them, how to make sure the air had the correct humidity and temperature, how to get the art to look impressive and imposing in the little rooms of a cave. He couldn’t envision it, and that had never happened to him before.
He continued to trace an erratic path on the ground until his eyes spotted a familiar figure in the distance. His breath caught as Grace approached him, which was odd. She was beautiful, certainly, but so were a lot of the women he knew. Her skin seemed to glow from within, and there was something so enticing about the soft pink color of her cheeks and the rosy tinge on the tip of her nose…
She didn’t smile when she noticed him but instead seemed to take a breath and steel herself, as if she needed to find the strength for whatever was to come. Rafael didn’t know why that bothered him, why he would have expected her to greet him warmly or feel at ease around him, but he realized he felt somewhat sore about it.
“You made it,” he said, inadvertently closing the final bit of distance between them with a long stride.
She nodded and squinted up at him. It was a sunny, perfect day, and Rafael knew the bright light would be gleaming off the colorful tiles of the palace behind him. The Alhambra was going to look its best, and that’s what he wanted to show Grace, that there was a certain kind of magic in this city. If nothing else, he hoped to put her in a good mood, soften her up a bit so, just maybe, he could convince her to use her expertise to get him out of his mess.
She raised her hands in front of her, palms up, as if presenting herself. Rafael was surprised to find that he wanted to reach out and touch her. He couldn’t make sense of it. It was the same as it had been ten years ago when he’d wanted to be around her for no discernable reason. Then, she’d been so full of life, and now she was so somber, but the feeling still held, something strong and inexplicable.
She stared up into his eyes, unblinking. Waiting. He cleared his throat. “What do you think?”
“Just wondering why I’m here.”
Rafael frowned and tilted his head. “I meant what do you think of the Alhambra? You don’t want to enjoy this spectacular Nasrid creation from the thirteenth century?”
She glanced at the giant structure looming over them. “It’s obviously impressive, and I want to see every inch of it, but?—”
