The Spanish Love Deception

by Elena Armas

  “Of course,” he said with his brows still furrowed. “I always have time for you.”

  That stupid lurch in my chest resumed.

  Swiftly, Aaron unfolded his body from the chair and walked around the desk and then around me while I kept my gaze where he had been a few seconds ago. Standing there like a total dummy, I heard him shut the door, the noise echoing in the silent room.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled as he reappeared in front of me. “I could have done that myself. I just didn’t—” I sighed. “I didn’t think. Thanks.”

  This time, he didn’t return to his chair. Instead, he leaned his body on the edge of the wooden surface of his desk. “It’s okay. We can talk now.”

  Those blue eyes of his pinned me down, waiting.

  “We can talk now, yes,” I repeated, squaring back my shoulders. “I think we should do that.” I watched his head nod, feeling my skin clammy with trepidation. “It would be good to clear the air after … all that’s happened.”

  “Yes, you are right,” he admitted. Bracing his arms on the desk, his hands grabbed on to the edge. “I came into work today with the intention to get you after the meeting. Suggest that we could have lunch together and talk.”

  Lunch together.

  “But we never do that.”

  Aaron sighed very softly. “I know,” he said almost bitterly. “But I wanted to take you anyway.”

  I stared at him, finding it hard to ignore the effect his words had on me.

  “I don’t think I’ll be able to now. My whole day has been sidetracked by the news.”

  That … that was just as shocking as him admitting to wanting to have lunch with me.

  “You didn’t know Jeff would announce your promotion?”

  “Not really. I didn’t think that was going to happen anytime soon. Especially not today,” he confessed, sending about a million questions rushing through my mind. “But that’s not important now. You want to talk about us, I assume. So, let’s do that.”

  “But it is,” I countered, feeling outraged on his behalf and ignoring the way that us had made me feel. “I think Jeff ambushing you like that is important. I can’t imagine why he would do something like this. It’s just”—I lowered my voice, realizing it had somewhat risen—“unprofessional.”

  The blue in Aaron’s eyes simmered, now looking surprised himself. “It is; you are right. And I’ll talk to him about how much, trust me.”

  “Good. You should.”

  Something softened in his face, and I averted my eyes, letting them rest somewhere above his shoulder. Not wanting him to know I cared as much as I did. Simply because I shouldn’t. We were still the same Lina and Aaron we had always been—certainly not friends—and about to be divided by a whole step in the hierarchy of the company.

  Releasing one of my hands from the death grip I had on my planner, I scratched the side of my neck. My gaze still refused to shift to the left, where it’d probably connect with his. So, instead, it moved down, following the seam of the blue button-down that covered his wide shoulders while a thick silence wrapped around us.

  “Listen, about our deal—” I started.

  “On Saturday, I—” Aaron said at the same time.

  Finally returning my eyes to his face, I found him gesturing for me to go ahead. I accepted the chance with a nod.

  “I will say this, and I’ll be out of your hair, I promise.” I exhaled through my nose, not paying attention to Aaron’s frown. “Now that you will become head of our division—which, again, it’s really great, so congratulations.” I let a polite smile tug at the corners of my lips. “Things for … us will change.” I shifted on my feet, not happy with how that sounded. There was no us. Not after Saturday and not after this. “What I’m trying to say is something that you have probably figured out yourself, but I just want to clear the air between us.”

  Aaron’s jaw clamped.

  “Our deal is off. It was stupid, and now, it makes even less sense than it did. So, it’s not a big deal. I helped you out on Saturday, but you don’t owe me anything. Consider it payback for giving me a hand with the organization of Open Day, okay? We are even.”

  I had expected to feel a big weight lift off my shoulders, but that was not what happened. Instead, it was as if my words had sunk me further down into the ground.

  “We are even?” Aaron asked, his hands lifting from the oak surface and then falling right back again. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that you don’t owe me,” I said with a shrug. Fully aware of the fact that I was repeating myself. “You can forget about all this nonsense.”

  His eyes filled with a dangerous mix of confusion and frustration.

  “I think I’m being pretty clear, Aaron. You don’t have to go through with your end of the deal. No flying to Spain, no wedding nonsense and pretending to be my boyfriend. No playing charades with me. That won’t be necessary.”

  “Your boyfriend?” he asked very slowly.

  Ah shit. I hadn’t used the word boyfriend the first time, had I?

  “My date, whatever.”

  “Have you found someone else? Is that what this is?”

  I shot him a look. Was he for real right now? “No, that’s not it. Not at all.”

  A muscle in his jaw jumped. “Then, I’ll come with you.”

  Exhaling roughly, I fought to keep the irritation off my face. Why was he always so goddamn difficult? “You don’t have to anymore.”

  “But I told you I would, Catalina. It doesn’t matter that you think that we are even or not.” His voice was so sure, the way he said it so confident that it was hard not to doubt my decision. “Saturday doesn’t change anything.”

  “But it does,” I told him a little too briskly. Aaron opened his mouth, but I didn’t give him an in to talk. “And your promotion does too, Aaron. You will be my boss. My supervisor. Head of our division. We shouldn’t even be entertaining the idea of you coming to a wedding with me that takes place somewhere all the way across the ocean. The things people would say if they found out. I won’t allow myself to be questioned—” I stopped myself, realizing I had said too much. “It’s just too …”

  Ridiculous? Reckless? All of the above?

  I shook my head, feeling light-headed and depleted. “It’s just not necessary anymore.”

  But of course, Aaron wouldn’t let anything go without a fight. “I understand you being wary now that the news is out.” He shook his head. “I didn’t think it would happen this fast. But there’s nothing I can do about that now. It doesn’t need to change anything where we are concerned.”

  Aaron waited for me to speak, but instead of words rising to my lips, an avalanche of something different throttled down my throat.

  Memories of a time when I had been stupid enough to get myself in a very similar position. One that hadn’t involved a made-up relationship, but one that had been real. So real that the hurt over how it had blown up in my face was something I wasn’t willing to ever relive or even get within shooting range of.

  “That’s a risk I won’t take.” I heard my own voice, and I was aware that it had given away more than I would have liked. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Then, help me out here,” he told me, something honest and open about his request. “Make me understand. Give me at least that.”

  My throat worked as I thought of those words that had been on repeat on my mind. “No. That kind of treatment is one I reserve for friends.”

  Something flashed across his face, and I expected him to snap back in the way he and I always did. But instead, he said, “Catalina.” And it sounded all wrong and far, far from snappy. “If I said that I didn’t mean what I said on Saturday, it wouldn’t change a single thing, so I won’t.”

  “Good,” I said, my voice coming out all wrong too. Although in a different way. “Because it’s okay if you don’t want to be my friend. You don’t have to explain or retract that. I’ve lived with that knowledge for almost two
years now, and I’m fine with it.” Aaron’s gaze sharpened, but I kept going, “We are not ten-year-olds, heading into the playground for recess. We don’t need to ask each other if we want to be friends. We don’t need to be. Especially not now that you will be my boss. We shouldn’t even be all that friendly. And that’s fine. That’s also why you’re off the hook where our deal is concerned. I’ll manage on my own.” As much as it was the last thing I wanted to do. But that was what single, lying maids of honor did—they attended weddings alone. “This is not you going back on your word, Aaron. It’s me releasing you from it.”

  We watched each other for a long moment, my heart thumping against my chest while I told myself that what I was seeing in his eyes wasn’t regret. Him feeling anything like that did not make any sense. Unless he regretted getting himself tangled in this whole mess. Now, that would be something I could understand.

  Before I could give that any more thought, the ringtone of his phone blared through the office.

  Aaron didn’t take his eyes off me as he reached for it and answered, “Blackford.” A pause. We stared at each other, his profile notably hardening. “Yes, all right. I’ll have a look myself. Two minutes.”

  I watched him place the phone back on the desk, and then he straightened to his full length.

  He searched my face in a way that made my neck and ears flush. As if the skin of my cheeks, nose, and chin hid the answers he was looking for.

  “There is something you are not telling me,” he finally said. And he wasn’t wrong. There was much I wasn’t telling him. And it’d stay that way. “But I’m patient.”

  Something flopped against my rib cage. I didn’t understand what he meant or why my chest felt tight all of a sudden.

  “It’s something important, and I need to go.” He stepped in my direction, both hands in his pockets and eyes still on me. “Get back to work, Catalina. We will continue our conversation.”

  Not more than a heartbeat later, Aaron disappeared through the door. Leaving me in his office, staring into empty space. Thinking how well he had already fallen into his new role, doubting there was something we had to continue talking about, and finding it really hard to believe that he had anything to be patient for.

  Basically because, where we were concerned, neither of us had anything to wait for.

  Chapter Eleven

  Everything went downhill after that day.

  As much as my intention had been to sort out the whole thing with Aaron, our conversation hadn’t relieved me in the slightest. Sure, I had made it very clear that he was off the hook, but his words still hung over my head. They had for the last two weeks.

  “There is something you are not telling me,” he had said. “But I’m patient.”

  It was like waiting for a bomb to drop.

  And on top of not knowing where we stood after that cryptic statement, I hadn’t brought myself to tell Rosie about it. Yet. I would—as soon as I figured a contingency plan for my wedding situation. Which was only three days away. Three.

  I eyed the analog clock I kept on my desk. It was eight in the evening, and I was not even close to being done with the day.

  How could I be when nothing was going according to plan? I hadn’t found anyone to replace Linda and Patricia, so I was still covering for them myself. I still hadn’t figured out how I’d be entertaining our guests for the whole sixteen hours Open Day was planned to last. And I had found that our hopefully prospective client, Terra-Wind, had been getting cozy with one of our biggest competitors. Not because they were better than us, but because they were one of those consulting companies that offered their services at ridiculously low rates.

  A crisis I had been dealing with for the last three hours.

  “Thank you, Miss Martín,” a man in a dark suit spoke from the screen of my laptop. “We will study your offer and come to a decision.”

  I nodded. “Thank you for your time,” I said, making myself smile politely. “I look forward to hearing back from you, Mr. Cameron. Have a good evening.”

  Hitting End on the conference call I had been on with the representative of the decision board of Terra-Wind, I took off my headphones and closed my eyes for a moment. Jesus, I didn’t even know how that had gone. I just hoped I had gotten through to him. My team was worth every extra penny, and Terra-Wind was a renewable company that had the resources and the potential to do something for the state of New York. I wanted this project.

  Opening my eyes back up, I watched my phone flash with my sister’s name, causing a twirl of mixed emotions. Any other day, I would have automatically picked up. But not today. I had already sent several of her calls to voice mail. If it were a real emergency, my whole family would have been blasting my phone.

  “Lo siento mucho, Isa,” I said as if she could hear me. “I don’t have time to deal with another bridal apocalypse.”

  I silenced my phone, placed it screen down, and moved onto the stack of résumés that HR had sent over for the vacancies I needed to fill. Two—I’d check a couple of them and take the rest home with me.

  Four résumés later, I was dropping my trusty highlighter down. I let my back fall on the backrest of my chair.

  My head was spinning, probably due to the fact that I had been working on mostly an empty stomach. Again. Because I had been dieting. Wrongly, most likely. Closing my eyes, I scolded myself for being that dumb.

  But, as much as I hated myself for it, I couldn’t stop thinking of standing in front of Daniel. My ex, the groom’s brother and best man. Who, unlike me, was happily engaged. Or in front of everybody. I could already feel every single soul attending the ceremony watching me, watching us. Measuring my reaction and assessing me—from the way I looked to the way my lips would tug down and pale when I finally faced him. Looking for possible answers that would explain why I was still single after all this time while Daniel wasn’t.

  Did she ever get over him? Did she ever get over everything that had happened? Of course not. Poor thing. What happened must have really messed her up.

  So, was it that silly of me to want to stand there and look good? Not just fine. Not just getting by. To everyone watching, I wanted to look complete. Beautiful, flawless, unaffected. I needed to give the impression that I had my life back on track. All figured out. Happy. With a man on my arm.

  Objectively, I knew how dumb all of it sounded, how much I shouldn’t be measuring myself in terms of having a man, looking thinner, or having clear skin. But, God, I knew that was what everybody else would be doing.

  I shook my head, trying to vanish those thoughts out of my mind but only accomplishing to make it worse with the way my head kept spinning. My body was screaming at me for something, anything that would appease the hollowness in my stomach.

  Water. That would help.

  Grabbing my phone and slipping my badge on the pocket of my camel slacks, I stood on weaker legs than I would have liked and made my way out of the office. There was one of those water dispensers down the corridor. Three more missed calls from my sister. With the time difference, she’d be asleep by now.

  Lina: Lo siento, bridezilla. *crazy face emoji*

  I typed, and the text blurred for a second. I stopped walking, trying to get my eyes to focus back on the screen.

  Lina: Hablamos mañana, vale?

  I continued, but the characters in the screen started dancing. My fingers lost all certainty, vacillating over the keyboard of the device. My sight doubled and then blurred, not managing to pinpoint with clarity the words I thought I was typing as they appeared on the text bubble.

  A shaky breath left my lips as I attempted to hit Send.

  Water. That’s what I need.

  My head lifted off my phone, and my legs resumed again, taking me a few feet down the corridor. I knew that the water dispenser was right there, probably about five or six steps ahead of me. But white spots scattered across my vision, and everything blinked out for a second. White. Then, the fluorescent-illuminated corridor came back,
narrowing, tunneling away.

  “Whoa,” I heard myself murmur.

  I was completely unaware of the fact that my legs had kept moving forward until I had to balance myself with a hand on the wall.

  “Oh mierda.” I stumbled.

  My eyelids fluttered closed, and I could feel how all the blood in my face rushed down, leaving me woozy and unbalanced. I willed my eyes to open back up. But all I saw was white. A white and misty blanket that covered everything in front of me. Although perhaps, it was the wall. I couldn’t be sure.

  I … I messed up. Big time. Eight thirty. No one around. That kept echoing in my head as I tried to account for the signs that indicated I was going down. And I … dammit. I couldn’t remember. Couldn’t … think. My skin felt cold and clammy, and I just wanted to close my eyes and rest. I was vaguely recalling that being a bad idea when my limbs started giving out.

  Then, I was lying down.

  Good. That’s good. I’ll rest, and then I’ll be better. I toppled to the side. It’s cold, but it’ll … get … better.

  “Catalina.” A voice seeped through the haze. It was deep. Urgent.

  My lips were cool and felt detached from my body, so I didn’t answer.

  “Fuck.” That voice again. Then, something warm fell on my forehead. “Jesus, fuck. Catalina.”

  I messed up. I … knew. I had done something wrong, and I wanted to admit it out loud to whoever was there, but all I accomplished was a mumble that didn’t really sound like … anything.

  “Hey.” That voice softened, no longer sounding angry.

  And I … I was so tired.

  “Open those big brown eyes.”

  That warm pressure I felt on my forehead moved down my face, spreading across my cheek. It felt good against my cool and damp skin, so I leaned on it.

  “Open them for me. Please, Catalina.”

  My eyelids fluttered open for an instant, finding two blue spots that made me think of the ocean. I felt a sigh escape my mouth, that hollow and void sensation receding for an instant.