“Ines, I’m so sorry to hear that. I can’t imagine what that’s like. Please know that I’m here for you, whenever. I want us to become great friends, okay?” She sounds so earnest. I can’t help it. I start tearing up.
“I would love that.” I smile. Genuinely. I know Lupe and I will become good friends. I can see it. She’s someone who loves with her whole heart. I miss her warm embrace after she pulls away. “I’m going upstairs, so I can fill these out and send them back to him.”
“Ines,” she calls after me. “You don’t have to do it right now. You can give yourself some time, you know?”
I smile at her words. I know she’s right. I know I should slow down, but there’s a part of me itching to get the rest of my life started, and that can’t happen if I don’t close this chapter first. The more I ask myself if I’m doing the right thing, the more I feel it in my blood. This is what I’m supposed to do.
“I know. Thank you, Lupe.” I hold the documents tight to my chest and race up the stairs to my apartment.
A few weeks go by, and slowly, as communications and nasty jabs from Brad diminish, I regain a handle on my life.
Lily and I chat daily, and I update her on my divorce proceedings. I don’t know if it’s because Richard Austin is a top-notch, badass divorce attorney, but so far my future ex-husband hasn’t tried to rip me off. We have a prenup in place, like most responsible Californians, and while I’m not expecting to get any kind of alimony, he’s buying me out of our house.
The house. The place I worked so hard to make ours. Guilt assails me as I realize I’ll miss the house and what it represented more than I’ll miss Brad. It was the very first grown-up place I’ve lived. Before moving in with Brad in a modest apartment, when he was still in law school, I’d always had roommates.
I tell myself that one day I will have another place to call home, a place where I belong. As of right now, I don’t feel any urge to rush back to California. Sure, I will have to go back for my hearing, but I don’t feel the need to go back now.
I’m getting used to my life here in Albuquerque just fine, and each day I love it a little more. After a few days of using the rental bikes, I got my own. It’s my mode of transportation for now. It feels silly trying to get a car when I own one in LA that I’m not using. I’m giving myself until after the divorce to decide what to do and where to move. Car or no car, there is nothing quite like bicycling around sleepy Old Town early in the morning. Some mornings, I hit up nearby breakfast spots and chat with the locals. My favorite spot, Church Street Café, is a restaurant in one of the oldest homes in Old Town, built during the founding of Albuquerque sometime after 1706. My favorite spot is at any of the tables outside in the garden. They have umbrellas and lots of plants and wooden statues of saints and a Madonna. When it isn’t too hot in the morning, I like opening up my laptop and working, responding to clients’ emails. Other times, I run by the nearest market and stock up on a few things. Sometimes I work all day, or I venture out for lunch. I’ve been keeping myself busy binging shows on Netflix and riding my bike all over the place, so I never sit on my ass all day.
My personal life might be falling apart, but my professional life is just fine, somehow. Work keeps me focused, and after a few weeks in Albuquerque, I’m able to complete all the jobs I had scheduled before coming here on vacation.
On top of that, I have been filling up my calendar with new projects.
Most of them are for my clients in California or New York, but Lupe has gotten me some local customers as well.
She really is vying for the role of BFF. I better not tell Lily.
It didn’t take long at all to start loving my life here, but if there’s one thing I miss about my house in the hills it’s the pool. It’s getting hotter by the day here in Albuquerque and I wish I could take a dip in the pool, especially on days like this, when the weather shows the first signs of what summer is going to be like here.
Today is dry and very hot. So much so that I regret not putting on sunscreen and I feel the sun burn my shoulders as I ride my bike through town. To beat the heat, I enrolled at the closest YMCA so that I can swim and unwind a little after work. I plan to go there three or four times a week and swim a solid thirty minutes of laps.
It’s part of the new self-care regimen I’ve adopted, and it turns out that it’s just what I need. My tiny apartment is lovely, but it’s too cramped to spend all day there. Once I’m done with work, I have to get out and breathe some fresh air. I’m glad that I don’t have that much room, because it has forced me to explore the city more and visit places I hadn’t been able to check out before.
Swimming relaxes me and makes me feel better after a long day sitting at my desk or trying to work with the laptop on my bed. I don’t always keep the best posture while I’m working and it’s easy to get stiff and sore.
I’ve just finished my laps and I take my goggles off gently, since my hair is tucked underneath a swimming cap to protect it from the chlorine.
I hear some giggling behind me and notice two young girls who don’t look a day over twenty, wrapped in their towels.
“Oh, God. There he is,” says one. They’re staring toward the opposite side of the pool, where a tall, tanned man is fixing his swimming cap. His tiny swimsuit, a Speedo, is black, as are his swimming cap and goggles. I let out a laugh, wondering what is up with the handsome man in black the girls are fawning over, and I turn around again, trying to dry off before heading to the dressing room. Slowly, I peel the swimming cap off my head.
“He’s so damn hot. He’s way older than us, but I wouldn’t mind it at all. Look at those abs.”
“Look at those arms. Yeah, you wouldn’t mind it, but your parents sure would.”
“Shut up.”
“Damn. I wish we could zoom in on that black Speedo.”
I let out another small laugh, covering my mouth with my towel.
“The only person I’ve seen wear a Speedo like that is Ryan Lochte,” adds one of the girls.
“Michael Phelps isn’t bad either, but Esteban Garcia is way hotter.”
At the mention of his name, I turn around, just as he’s leaping into the pool behind me. I should have known. He totally has a swimmer’s physique, lean and powerful, with muscles in all the right places. I’m sure working around the restaurant doesn’t hurt, either. My arms were in fabulous shape when I waitressed because I had to lift heavy trays all the time.
He gets to the end of the pool and turns around. He does it over and over again. I feel like a creep for staring at him, but I can’t seem to avert my eyes. I realize I haven’t seen him in weeks, not even in passing at Lupe’s store. I sigh, a little disappointed with myself when a dull ache spreads in my chest. So what if he hasn’t been coming around? Why is that any of my business?
The girls’ chatter distracts me.
“He completely shut me down when I tried flirting with him,” one of the girls says.
“You were barely eighteen then, Bailey. Do you think he would have agreed to go out with you the minute you turned legal?”
“Why not?” Bailey teases.
“He has a business to run and a reputation to protect,” the wiser friend says.
“Whatever. He just needs to say when, and I’ll drop my panties for him.”
I purse my lips together to stop myself from guffawing. I can’t blame her. If I knew someone like Esteban at that age, I suspect I would have been infatuated with him just as much. I can’t deny that as I watch him do his laps, I do feel slightly infatuated with him. I haven’t seen him around, but I keep thinking of him, and how protective he was that night. I instinctively inch closer to the border of the pool to get a better look. I feel the girls’ eyes on me.
One of the girls mumbles something and the other laughs, and I suspect they are laughing at my expense, but I don’t care. I just can’t look away. There are other people getting either in or out of the pool, but thankfully, no one seems to be paying attention to me. Not like
the girls, who are eyeing me up and down as they leave the pool.
I see him emerge from the other side, and his back expands even more as he gets out of the pool. Even from a distance, I see rivulets of water cascading down his sculpted back. He grabs a towel and starts drying off.
The girls were right.
He’s fiiiiiine. Not that I didn’t notice it the first time I saw him. Or the second. But this is the first time I’ve seen him…in his full glory. He takes off his swimming cap and runs a hand through his hair. He adjusts his towel around his waist and walks through the doors on the opposite side. My heart is racing in my chest at the thought of saying hello, the thudding noise louder in my head as I fix the towel on me and put on my flip-flops. I’m about to walk after him, running a hand through my messy, disheveled hair. I’m a few feet from the doors when I see through the glass a guy approaching him in the hallway and shaking his hand. They hug, and Esteban pats him on the arm.
His smile stretches big across his face, and it mirrors his friend’s. They chat animatedly, like old friends catching up.
I decide to abandon my plan and retreat to the dressing room, pushing the thought of him aside, but my skin prickles with need. It’s not a big deal if I don’t say hello to him right now, but there’s something inside of me that pushes me toward him like a magnet.
I know I’ll run into him again, eventually. It's not that big of a deal if I don't say hi to him now.
I run a hand over my heart, wishing it would stop beating so fast for a stranger.
Chapter Nine
Today is the Fourth of July, which means I’ve been in Albuquerque about two months. The whole town has been celebrating for days. Last night I could hear fireworks going off in the distance, but I couldn't see them from my apartment. According to Lupe, I’ve missed a great firework show, which is why she insisted I come out tonight and meet her and her family at Old Town Plaza. Despite the heat, there have been bands playing on and off all day. It’s crowded with tourists and locals alike. I’ve only been out briefly today, but I had a deadline to meet.
The Fourth of July has always been one of my favorite celebrations ever since I was a child, but I can’t deny that seeing everyone out and about with their families and friends has put me in a melancholic mood.
I've been fine on my own these last few weeks, but I can’t deny I have a pit in my stomach as I come down the stairs of my apartment.
I’m all festive in red, white, and blue. I look down at my red suede sandals—a new purchase from a local shoe craftsman Dolores introduced me to—and my knee-length, sleeveless blue dress with a wide skirt. My hair is tied in a low ponytail with a beautiful, white rose hair piece that Lupe gave me and I’m wearing gold pendant earrings that belonged to my mother.
When I looked at my reflection in the mirror, it reminded me of an old picture I’d seen of her. It made me happy and made me ache for her all over again. It’s been years, and I still miss her so much every day.
“Ay, que bonita!” Dolores yells from her window. I laugh and twirl for her, the skirt of my dress opening in a circle.
Dolores is my neighbor and most recent confidante. She’s in her seventies but is feisty like a twenty-year-old. She has as much spice and pizzazz as a chile pepper. She wasted no time introducing herself to me, and somehow she taught me and convinced me to play cards with her in the evening. Although she’s been retired for years, she does some seamstress work on the side.
“Come with me! Don’t let me go out there by myself!”
“I’m not ready, yet,” she replies. “I had to finish some alterations first.”
“It’s a holiday, Dolores!”
“Querida, you know how it is.” She shrugs.
“But you’re still coming out? I’m supposed to meet Lupe and her family, but I don’t want to be out there by myself.”
“I’ll come, I’ll come. Give me some time. I’ll meet you at the Plaza.”
When I reach the square, however, there are so many people that I have no idea how I’m going to find Lupe. I pull out my phone and text her.
The charming Old Town Plaza is even more festive than usual. There’s a band playing old-fashioned tunes on the gazebo, and part of the square has been turned into a dance floor of some sort. Many couples are dancing, while other people are standing around the perimeter. There are street food vendors and all kinds of activities. Across the street, to my left, I spot a face-painting and drawing station for children. A woman is painting the face of a little boy like a tiger. I scan the people in line, wondering if Lupe is around there somewhere with Vincent and Oliver, but I don’t see them.
My phone buzzes, and I read Lupe’s text.
Lupe: I had to go to the store because Oliver had to use the restroom. I must have missed you coming out.
Me: Okay. Let me know when you head back over here.
I sigh and try to enjoy the music. I see the owner of a café I go to several times a week and say hello to him and his wife.
Then, I spot him in the crowd, chatting with a group of friends.
Esteban Garcia, in the flesh.
I haven’t seen him since I spotted him at the YMCA. I’d hoped to run into him again, but it hasn’t happened. I think about the night we met, and an ache spreads in my chest thinking back to the time of my fight with Brad, the night I knew it was over. Esteban was so kind to me, and even though I was a mess and my emotions were all over the place, I couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was. I was a bit confused by my physical reaction to him that night…and the morning after. It was the strangest sensation. When I saw him at the pool I tried to go after him, and I hoped I’d run into him again…but I haven’t seen him at all. Now that I realize I might talk to him, my heart loses its cool completely and starts beating so loudly I need to exhale to calm myself down. Now that I know how good he looks when he's all put together, I'm even more disappointed that our paths haven't crossed at all in the last few weeks.
He’s wearing a button-down black shirt with the sleeves rolled up and straight-leg, fitted black dress pants. His hair is neatly gelled, and the sparkle in his emerald eyes is making me weak in the knees even from across the square. Two women are talking to him and his friends, and my stomach twists at the sight, at least until I realize that while one of the women is trying to get his attention, he seems distracted, looking around the place as if searching for someone. A queasy feeling spreads in my stomach, and I try to understand why I'm even reacting this way. He probably has a girlfriend or a significant other, and I have no business being jealous. I am nothing to him, and he's nothing more than a kind acquaintance to me. But just as I think that, a knot forms in my throat, as if I don't want my thoughts to be true. I don't know that much about him, but my brief interactions led me to think that there is so much more behind his gorgeous face.
I want to get to know him.
He seems to be a responsible, kind, beautiful man who is devoted to his family.
Any woman would be stupid to pass up the opportunity to get closer to him. His eyes continue to scan the crowd, but he doesn’t find what he’s looking for. He looks down at the woman in front of him and smiles briefly, sending butterflies swarming my stomach.
A couple of people in front of me leave and I take a few steps forward, closer to the area designated as the dance floor. His eyes are still roaming around, and I wonder if he’s looking for Lupe as well. Seconds later, however, he sees me, and even from a distance I can see how his gaze changes into a look of surprise and I notice the slow smile stretching across his face. Heat rushes to my cheeks, and it spreads across my chest when I see him excuse himself and walk across the dance floor, heading toward me. I smile back, even though my throat is parched, and my palms are a little sweaty. I wipe them off on the back of my dress.
I'm like a teenager at a school dance. Did anyone ever make me feel like this before? I don't remember having butterflies when Brad and I started dating.
He crosses the dance floor, do
dging the couples dancing a few times. He smiles apologetically at them. I laugh, because he looks adorable. With every step that he takes toward me, my heart beats faster and faster, so loud and obnoxious that I feel it all the way up to my ears.
I don’t have time to check if my red lipstick is perfect, because his eyes are on me. When he reaches me, the serious, intense look is replaced by the most brilliant and endearing of smiles.
“Ines. It’s nice to see you here.”
I smile nervously. “You too, Esteban. How’ve you been?”
“Good. A little busy. I asked Lupe how you were doing.” Oh.
“Have you been keeping tabs on me?” I tease with a smile.
He shrugs, but his lips press together in a shy half pout and his expression is a mix of amusement and embarrassment. “I haven’t had time to come around, but I wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”
I can’t help it. My stomach flips and my heart takes off, beating like a maniac.
“I’m doing okay. I’m actually here to meet your sister—”
He interrupts me saying, “You look beautiful.”
His words make me blush, and I don’t miss his eyes scanning my body, taking in my outfit, all the way down to my red suede sandals.
The way his eyes widen, and his lips part slightly sets my chest on fire, and it spreads to my stomach. Once again, just the way he looks at me has me all out of sorts in the best possible way. Then he catches me looking at him, and straightens up, clearing his throat.
“Nice shoes,” he says with a grin.
“Thanks. Your sister hooked me up. She knows the best places in town.”
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