Page 7

"Should I call you a cab?" the club owner asks while Claudia buttons her trousers back up.

"No. I think I'll walk again."

"You sure?" Nadia puts a hand under her chin and makes her look up at her.

Claudia is pale and looks so exhausted she could faint.

"I'd rather walk."

"Okay. Let me rinse my mouth and I'll walk with you."

The Vidal heiress doesn't argue. It isn't the first time Nadia has walked her home, and her company is always something she finds easy.

Chapter 4

Laia stays next to her car for a few seconds after getting out, looking toward the sea the way she does every morning. She likes the salty smell the breeze carries, and she doesn't care that it's winter and cold this early—she always takes a moment to fill herself with this, with whatever the sea gives her when she looks at it.

She presses the button to lock the car and zips her jacket all the way up to her neck before turning and walking toward the factory. Her eyes drift toward the side path for a moment, and she feels a sharp pull in her stomach that takes her breath away when she remembers her there, walking behind the group with her long coat open, hands in her pockets, and that natural elegance she's probably not even aware of.

Laia hasn't forgotten her face, or the sound of her footsteps, or any of what she felt when she saw her—that full-body paralysis, her racing heart, the tingling all over and the heat that swept through her like someone had set her on fire. She ran her errands as fast as she could, considering that going to the bank always means waiting in line and the accountant's office is always a gamble. When she got back to the factory, she took the stairs two at a time, almost breathless, hoping the woman was still inside—but when she saw Elvira alone in her office, she understood she'd arrived too late. She was tempted to ask her boss something when she went in to hand over the paperwork the accountant had given her, and she stood there in front of her, searching for a believable excuse that would let her ask without giving herself away, but nothing came to mind that wasn't just "who was the woman in the long coat?"—and that was too obvious.

"Anything else?" Elvira asked, looking up at her from her desk.

Laia startled and took a step back.

"No, nothing, that's all."

"Good, thank you, Laia."

And that was it—the chance to ask slipped away because she couldn't think fast enough. But the moment she stepped out of the office to head to her own, she stopped dead in the hallway: Irene. The plant manager had been at the entrance when she left, which meant she was also there when the group of four came in.

With a smile she had to bite back so her boss wouldn't catch it through the glass, she turned toward the stairs, went down them practically skipping, and headed into the factory to find the plant manager.

"Irene, do you have a minute?" she asked, stopping beside her.

Irene, who was adjusting a sewing machine, looked up.

"What is it?"

Laia went quiet for a moment, unsure how to ask.

"Yesterday, when I left to run those errands…"

"Yeah?"

She cleared her throat, her pulse already racing, afraid Irene would notice she was breathing faster and getting nervous.

"I saw a group coming in—two men and two women. Do you know who they were?" she finally asked.

"Two of them, yes. One was Elvira's older sister, the one with the stores in Barcelona, and the other was her husband. I saw them years ago, back when they still came around every now and then."

"And the others? The woman who—well, there were two more."

"Right, but I have no idea about those two—I don't know them. Maybe they work there, or they were reps from some supply company. I really don't know."

"Of course, yeah."

"Why are you asking?" the plant manager pressed.