She patted his arm and tried her encouraging smile one more time. “I think you can make it beautiful, Raf. I really do.”
They walked around the cave house several more times as Rafael wrote notes she couldn’t read in a tiny journal. She took pictures and videos on her phone to remember every detail—the alcove off the largest room, the long hallway that spread out and ended in a large, strange cavern that looked like a mushroom. Everything was white. The front rooms glowed with some natural light, while the other rooms were dim—something they would have to consider for the placement of each piece of art. Grace couldn’t help wondering about whoever had come up with the idea to create this place, to carve out a cozy little dwelling from the rock on the side of a cliff. It did inspire her, though. She was already imagining where they might add lighting and how they would try to direct the flow of traffic, that is, if Christian’s guests actually cared to look at the art during his fancy parties.
As if she had summoned him with her thoughts, the man she assumed was Christian appeared with his arms outstretched and sporting a giant grin. His white teeth shined, seeming to reflect the walls of the cave, and just a sliver of his round belly was visible under his shirt. When he dropped his arms, the sliver disappeared.
Grace had been picturing someone more glamorous, someone who wore clothes that looked too nice to touch, but Christian was clearly prepared to work. His linen pants were well made, but they looked comfortable. No suit and tie. No fancy watch. Nothing to get caught on his precious paintings as he helped to haul them from the truck. The fact that Christian planned to help with the hauling at all showed just how precious they were to him.
“Who do we have here?” he asked in Spanish, his eyes fixed on Grace.
She tried to smooth her loose braid and thin sweater and waited for Rafael to introduce her.
“This is Grace Cameron,” Rafael said in English, for her benefit. “She’s a professor at the international university and an expert on modern art. I thought she might be able to offer a few insights to help us get started.”
“Si, si,the American art instructor,” Christian said, switching to English as well. “You mentioned you were bringing someone, but I didn’t expect her to be so lovely, Rafael. I should have known you would find the most beautiful expert possible to help with your work.”
Rafael averted his gaze from Grace and cleared his throat. He clearly wasn’t going to be agreeing with that sentiment.
Christian patted his arm and murmured something else to Rafael in Spanish before moving forward to shake Grace’s hand. Raf’s eyes went wide at whatever Christian had told him, but he didn’t respond as Christian switched back to English. “Nice to have you here, Senorita Cameron. I’m excited to show you the work and see what you think.”
Grace shifted on her feet. “It’s nice to meet you, but I’m just here to see if I can help a bit. This isn’t really what I do.”
“Yes, you are a teacher, and that’s even more important. But if you have any ideas at all to help with our little project, we’ll be very grateful to you.”
Christian swept past her and started to wander around the building as if refreshing his memory. His shiny shoes squeaked across the brushed concrete floor, before he popped up on his tiptoes and peered out one of the little carved windows. The bright sun lit up his face, and he nodded happily as he moved on to the next room, clearly reassured that he’d chosen the perfect venue.
When Grace found Rafael’s eyes, they were already trained on her.
“What?” she asked, smoothing a hand down her braid again.
Rafael opened his mouth and then closed it without speaking.
“What is it?” Grace pressed.
He cleared his throat and turned away. “Come back to the kitchen area again,” he said. “I don’t know how we’re going to cater anything here.”
“You’re such a pessimist, Raf,” she scolded. She couldn’t help but feel like he had something else on his mind, but obviously it wasn’t something he planned to share with her. She glanced around the front room another time, imagining how it might look when it was no longer bare, when priceless works of art were spread out all over the cave walls, and then she followed Rafael to the little kitchen.
CHAPTERTEN
Oh,I already see how you look at her. Can’t get that past an old man.
Rafael was lucky Grace’s Spanish was terrible. Thankfully, she seemed to have no clue that Christian had already remarked on Rafael’s attraction. Rafael wasn’t sure how he’d been looking at her, exactly, but he didn’t find it hard to believe that he’d been staring. The way her hair fell over her shoulder, little wisps escaping her braid and framing her face. The way she pursed her lips at him when she was annoyed, which was often, even if her grimaces were starting to turn into smiles far more than before. The way she rested her body against the cave wall, clearly lost in thought, her blue eyes gleaming when she had another idea. The way she hovered over him while he was writing in his notebook even though she couldn’t read a word of it. He could smell her lavender soap. He could feel her breath on his neck.
He’d always been attracted to her. The first time he’d met her, and then the first time he saw her in Alma’s apartment so many years later. It wasn’t exactly newsworthy. He supposed the intensity of his attraction had crept up a few notches since she moved in, but he was spending so much more time with her, it was expected that his level of interest would increase, too.
He ran the water at the faucet in the little kitchen and washed his hands before splashing some of the cool water against his face. Clearly, things were getting worse. When she’d first arrived, he’d thought about her on occasion. She was an attractive woman, but she was living with his sister, and she clearly wasn’t his biggest fan. Then, she moved in with him, and she didn’t seem to hate him as much anymore. Actually, it almost seemed like she enjoyed talking to him, at least a small amount. Sometimes he made her laugh, andAy Dios mio, if that wasn’t the greatest sound he’d ever heard. It was a stupid thought. Absolutely idiotic. But she’d been so sad lately, and to hear her laugh at something he’d said—it felt like the instant warmth from a shot of tequila but without the burn. It felt like the sun.
What a ridiculous load of sentimental bullshit.One pretty girl smiled at him and suddenly he was a completely different person full of nonsense and bad poetry? He groaned inwardly and took a sip from his bottle of water. Grace had followed him into the room, and now she was waiting for him to do something—like his job, perhaps? He was supposed to be working, not thinking about how the smell of his temporary roommate seemed to waft through the entire apartment after she stepped out of the shower.
Christian only made it worse by commenting on it. Rafael had assumed that all the heat inside of him was his alone, safe inside his body for no one else to ever know. Did his face look different somehow when she was around? Was it that evident to everyone? To her?
“Is everything okay?” Grace asked. “I know the kitchen’s small, but I’m sure you’ll be able to figure something out.”
“Yes.” Rafael swallowed and started fidgeting before quickly stopping himself. “I think we can manage something. There’s enough room for a large refrigerator, and while the oven is small, it should be enough for reheating food. Counter space might be the big concern, really, and then we need somewhere for the food to go. Maybe we could fit a large table in that side room? Tapas would be fine, but if someone were to host a full dinner, it might get tricky. I’ll have to take some more measurements.”
He was rambling. And sweating.Estupido.
Grace was patient, waiting for him to finish his thoughts, even though he’d lost track of them himself. He wasn’t entirely sure what was happening to him, but between trying to figure out what to do with this exhibition and spending so much time with Grace, he didn’t feel quite like himself. He was flustered and insecure, two things that could rarely have been used to describe him in his entire life. He wasn’t sure how to overcome it, but he was sure that he would. His confidence in that fact remained. He would figure his shit out and get back on track.
