TOMÁS
Suppressing a groan, I clench my jaw as I lower into a squat to complete the last rep in my five-by-five set. My muscles burn from the extra ten-pound plates I added on either side of the barbell, totaling the weight I’m squatting to three hundred seventy-five pounds —a new personal record.
No matter how hectic my schedule is, I always try to carve out time in the mornings to get a workout in before my workday begins. The gym is one of the only forms of self-care I have. It’s where I can block out all the noise and endless demands that are expected from me, and just…be. Or at least that was the case, before my path crossed with a certain blue-eyed, clit-pierced stranger that I’ve been unable to shake from my memory.
It's impossible not to recall every heated detail of our night together. I swear, every moan, every sensation, every damn detail down to the way her taste lingered on my tongue hours after I had her on it, has been on replay in my head.
“Fuck,” I mumble under my breath, kneading my temples with my palm, as if it will alleviate this ache I have, that’s been made worse from the post-workout adrenaline rush.
The whole walk back to my penthouse my work phone becomes inundated with emails pouring in. Thankfully none need my immediate attention and can wait until I’m in the office. That is until I see the subject line of one email in particular from Ralph, the senior partner who oversees the real estate group, that catches my immediate attention.
Just as I’m about to open it, he calls me.
“Ramos, you’re alive.”
“Um, yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You usually email me back within seconds. Anyway, how’s it going with securing Tesoro Development Group?”
I don’t know why he’s asking me, as if he doesn’t already know firsthand how it’snotgoing.
Still, he’s technically my superior, and despite him tasking me with what feels next to impossible, I can’t show that. I must remain even-keeled, to feed into the illusion that I have it figured out.
“It’s going.”
“Don’t lie to me,” he deadpans.
I fumble my words a bit, trying to think of what to say that’ll get me out of this unscathed.
“God, Ramos, you’re so damn wound up all the time. Calm down. I’m messing with you. I just wanted to let you know that I think I found a solution to your issues securing Tesoro as a client.”
There’s a lot I can say to Ralph in my defense as to why Michael Tesoro has been extraordinarily difficult to sign on as a client. He’s arrogant, disrespectful, and purposely difficult. And however true that all may be, if I said all that to Ralph, he would dismiss every claim as an excuse.
Regardless, my interest is piqued. “Oh yeah? And what might that be?”
“If you got your head out of your ass and read my email you’d know.”
Choosing to bite my tongue, I switch the call to speaker and open the email. “I’m getting a new paralegal? But Margaret didn’t leave the firm, she’s still on maternity leave.”
“Yes, I’m well aware, but since you took it upon yourself to pay for her to have an extended maternity leave, your nobility has left you without a paralegal for longer.”
“I told you it was fine with me so that Margaret gets the time she needs. I don’t think replacing her…”
He cuts in, sounding irritated. “We aren’t replacing her. Your new paralegal is temporary.”
“You’ll have to excuse me, but it’s early and I haven’t had my coffee yet, but what does you giving me a temporary paralegal – that I never asked for by the way– have to do with Tesoro Development?”
His aggravation morphs into amusement. “Fate, Ramos.” I hear him clap as he says it. “Fate led a certain application our way, from someone who can most certainly get us closer to securing Michael Tesoro as a client.”
“Go on.”
“She hasconnectionsto him. You’ll see today when she starts. See you in an hour.”
I hang up the phone. I can already sense the day this is going to be.
Lorena
Ma wants to know if you’ll be at Sunday dinner this week.
