“It’s nothing grandiose. I’d like to transform our old garage into a tiny studio where I could teach part-time, but for now it’s not going to happen.”
“Why?”
“It would cost too much. Maybe later.” She holds my gaze.
My first inclination is to inquire how much is too much. I could hire a team of workers and get them to Eva’s place by Monday. I could even rent or buy her a place in the city center. Something more appropriate than a dark, crummy garage.
But something in the way Eva is looking at me makes me bite back the words before they reach my lips. I get the distinct sensation that I’m being tested. And I don’t have any intention of failing. “I’m sure you’ll make that happen, Eva. With your grit and talent, I don’t doubt you will,” I murmur.
Instead of offering my financial means to her, I tuck away the idea of helping her into a safe place in my mind where I’m collecting details about her that puzzle and thrill me. Perhaps, someday I will be able to make treasure of them…
A bright smile spreads on Eva’s face.
My heart leaps.
Yes! Whatever Eva was afraid I would say or do, I did not. I’ve passed.
Eva reaches up and gives me a kiss on my left cheek. “That’s for being just you. I think this dancing is doing you tremendous good. Maybe we should repeat it more often in the future.”
The spot where her lips touched my skin burns.
A wave of guilt washes over me as I realize that the “someday” I’ve been contemplating will probably never happen. Nor will the “more often in the future.” I only have a few days left with Eva, and I have to spend them deceiving her. And—if I’m to trust my uneven breathing—possibly myself too.
To suppress the sensation, I lower my head and nestle my cheek against Eva’s. She closes her eyes and so do I. With my eyelids shut, the external world disappears. As I let my cells soak up the glow emanating from her body and revel in this blissful sensation, I almost forget that I’m here with these sweaty couples that keep bumping into us now and then.
There’s just something about Eva. I can’t pinpoint yet what it is, but she is so…different. And she makes me feel different, too. It’s as if her aura rubs off on everyone and everything around her, including me, turning Mamacita into the most exquisite location in the whole wide world and me into a better, happier man. One who wishes nothing other than to be with her in this very moment, dancing to the soft tunes of this song.
Chapter 19
(Nathan - Day 5)
“Here you go, sir.” My secretary places a giant heap of documents on my desk.
After the night in Mamacita, I came to my office extra early in the morning to catch up on the duties I neglected over the past three days. The sheer amount of paper sitting in front of me is an unwanted reminder of just how much I overlooked. Perhaps the time has come to dip my toe into unknown waters and delegate some of my tasks.
I really don’t like the idea of letting things out of my control. But I hate the idea of having to miss out on time with Eva even more.
And on winning the bet. Yes, most importantly on that, of course.
My eyes flick to the pile. Maybe I could eliminate some of the less critical items without having to sacrifice my normal work ethic?
“Are these all red-flagged?”
“Yes, sir.” Rachel nods. Her entire posture is defensive, with her shoulders hunching forward and her hands intertwined in front of her pencil skirt. Her gaze is fixed on her shoes as if she’s waiting for some disapproving remark from me.
To be fair, one is already forming in my head. Despite my explicit request to Rachel to only bring me the cases requiring my urgent attention, the stack is so tall it reaches two-thirds of the way up my computer screen. So either she was lazy when she went through the files, or too shy when she applied her judgement about what is or isn’t crucial.
Just as I’m about to grumble some snarky comment, I remember Eva’s words.
You are quite…impressive when you let that nice side of you shine through.
I swallow back my critique. It’s not easy, because I’m all for clear communication. If something bothers me about Rachel, I prefer to get it off my chest quickly to avoid her repeating the error.
But if I’m going to see if Eva’s reasoning is correct, I’ll need to approach this situation differently.
I force my facial muscles into a smile. The smirk that comes out isn’t perfectly symmetrical, but it should be more amiable than the frown I was planning to give to my secretary. I clear my throat. “Wow, it seems I have my work cut out for me then, don’t I? You did a good job…uhm, gathering it all and not leaving any uncertain cases out.”
So far so good. Now I came up with a few appreciative words that don’t seem fake. It must’ve taken Rachel at least an hour to collect all the cases, so I might as well acknowledge that. Could I have said something more positive? Certainly. But even if I’m trying out a new people-skill, I want to remain me while doing it.
Rachel’s eyes dart to my face. I think I hear her gasp, but I’m not sure, because her hand is quicker at clapping at her mouth than the sound making its way out. When she pulls back her fingers, her lips curl up. It’s the first smile she has dared in my presence since I hired her three years ago.
I’m dumbfounded. Did my mildly considerate reaction do that to her?
Rachel presses a hand to her chest. “Thank you, sir, for your praise. It really means a lot. If there’s anything in the pile you think doesn’t belong there, just tell me. I’ll remember it for next time. I know you’re on a tight schedule.”
“Very well, Rachel,” I mumble, still puzzled by the effect of my words. “That’s all. You can go now.” I remember Murphy’s grimace from the other day, and I add hastily, “Thank you.”
Rachel gives me another shy smile and a polite, “It’s my pleasure,” before turning to the door. She walks out with her back straight and her steps definitely more springy than I have ever seen her do when leaving my office.
“Incredible,” I whisper to myself, shaking my head.
I really just wanted to put Eva’s theory to the test, but I’m amazed by the results. I can’t ignore how much her advice is in line with what Murphy often repeats to me. I definitely could have given it a shot earlier. But somehow when Eva explained it, the whole concept of seeing and treating employees as humans with feelings sounded more…intriguing.
I grab the first file from the pile and open it. I shift my eyes from one paragraph to the next, trying to decide whether the numbers I’m seeing add up, but my mind is actually occupied with Eva. When I realize I’ve just skipped an important line that confutes the hypothesis presented earlier on in the document, I glance up and lean back in my chair. The decorative carvings twinge my back, as if they disapprove of me stopping.
I really need to switch back to my old Arper Aston chair, even if Mother won’t like it.
I rub my nose with pinched fingers.
The thought of Mother reminds me of the ticking clock I’m under, and my stomach tightens. Should I start to worry about this bet? It’s not so much the approaching deadline that’s concerning. I’m confident I’m moving towards my goal. Slowly yes, but steadily. I’m behaving more in line with what pleases Eva, and the effect can be felt by her more cordial approach toward me.
Strangely enough, my demeanor when I’m around her doesn’t cost me much effort at all. I didn’t think I would get the hang of this genuine no-facade thing that fast, but I did. And if I’m honest, I’m even enjoying it.
No, rather, it’s my behavior when I’m not with Eva that worries me.
Is it normal, for example, that this morning I spent more of my brain capacity on what activity to suggest to her this afternoon than on the Richmond and Green business accord?
Choosing what to do with a woman for a few hours is not like solving the great mystery of our species, nor is it an exercise in quantum physics. Then why am I acting like it is? It can�
��t be just my eagerness to secure my victory and prove Mother and Murphy wrong, can it?
My phone rings.
Maybe it’s Eva to confirm our date. Last night, she wasn’t sure she could make it, since she needs to work tonight.
I reach for it so briskly that the top folders tumble to the floor, scattering typed pages all over my hand-crafted Nordic Knots rug.
But when I hit answer, it’s only a video call from Zach.
My lawyer friend and I go way back. When I worked at AMEA’s office in the Big Apple, I consulted him on some of my cases. His genial advice consistently helped me to secure more advantageous conditions on my agreements, convincing me that Zach wasn’t only a sharp-minded, fun-loving person who shared my enthusiasm for climbing, but also an excellent lawyer. So I’d hired him to run my contracts before moving back to the headquarters in San Sebastian to ascend the corporate ladder.
“What’s up, Nate? I’m calling to finalize the details of the Richmond and Green case. Your suggestion about the remote-work clause went through perfectly with their attorney.”
It was Eva’s suggestion, really. And after what I’ve seen this morning with Rachel, I probably shouldn’t be surprised that her advice worked on this other matter, too. She might not be an expert in business consulting, but she sure has good insights when it comes to people.
“Is this a good time to speak?” Zach asks, when I still haven’t greeted him.
I position my phone on top of the remaining files on my table. “Well, I’m sort of busy, mate. Can we do a raincheck on this?”
“Busy with what? Don’t tell me you landed another client since we’ve last spoken?” Zach shakes his head in a half-disapproving, half-admiring way. “You’re going all-in with impressing your mother before that promotion, huh? Old Larry won’t be able to keep up with your speed.”
A sudden idea occurs to me.
Maybe fate is giving me a sign by making Zach ask about my promotion? Perhaps I should tell my friend about the challenge Murphy put me up against. Spilling the beans to someone I trust, and who knows me for what I am, could clear my head and drag me back to reality. Zach will surely understand why I accepted to play Romeo. He’s as savvy as it gets, plus it’s in his best interest that I become CEO. If I were to lead our company, his firm would likely become the exclusive legal supplier to AMEA.
As I narrate for Zach the events of the past four days, he listens to me with his jaw slack.
After I finish, I raise my brows. “So what’s your take on it?”
Zach bends toward the camera, grinning. “You danced salsa? Are you serious? Oh, man. I’m sorry I missed that. Were you hilarious or what?”
His tone is so shrill, I tune down the volume on my phone. I don’t want my secretary or anyone walking past by my office to overhear what I did last night, especially not in my friend’s mocking tone.
Why didn’t I just leave out Mamacita from my story?
“Zach, could you please focus on the rest?” I wrinkle my forehead, barely able to hide my annoyance. “I’ve told you about the bet because I’m having trouble with my workload in the office while juggling my courting act. I’d appreciate some useful tips on regaining productivity, instead of you making fun of my dancing skills. That are—for the record—much better than you would think.”
Zach bobs his head. “Okay, if you say so. But then this Eva must be an exceptionally good teacher. Last I checked, you have the sense of rhythm of an old shoe.”
My neck prickles at his words.
The more we speak about the memory of last night, the more the bliss I had with Eva threatens to sidetrack my thoughts—which is exactly the opposite of what I hoped to get out of this exchange with Zach. I need to kill this topic right now. “Zach Powell, stop mocking my dancing talent. You’re on the right path for me to regret that I’ve ever befriended you.”
“You didn’t befriend me, Nate. We’ve just spent so many hours together at work that we unavoidably got to know each other.” He winks, while his lips stretch further toward his ears.
“All the more reason for you to quit joking about my moves, or the presumed lack of them.”
Zach puts up his hands. “Okay, ragged-foot John. Since when are you so touchy?”
Touchy?
I’m not touchy. I’m just a little…mhmm, irked…but if I’m honest, I’m not even sure it has anything to do with my friend’s cheeky comment. Most likely nothing. After all, I’m not planning to audition for the next Dirty Dancing remake. Then why does this whole chat make me feel like I have one nerve left and Zach is jumping on it?
As if my friend is just arriving to the same conclusion, he asks, “Why are you this tense, buddy? You said the bet is your only option to convince your mother which, between us, I find rather hilarious. But, hey, your family has always been kinda whacky, hasn’t it?”
Zach’s choice of words lures a small smile from my contracted facial muscles. My friend is a son of a firefighter, and despite not following in his father’s footsteps, he’s still a down-to-earth, pragmatic person with a wicked sense of humor.
“Murphy is convinced this bet will either bring out my hidden potentials with people, or show evidence that I don’t have any.”
Zach cocks his head to the side. “I quite fancy Murphy. He’s a good guy, pretty solid. But he’s also your younger brother. It could be that this wild goose chase he sent you on with the girl is his—”
“Exactly, my thinking. I…” I interrupt, but stop as the meaning of his words settle in. “Wait, what? Wild goose chase? What is that supposed to mean? Do you think I’ll lose the bet or what?”
Does Zach believe I’m incapable of making someone fall for me? Because if he is, I can certainly contradict him. Though nothing physical has happened between me and Eva yet, after last night I’m certain that her friendly interest is transforming into something more.
Zach pulls down his left eye with his finger, then deepens his voice an octave. “I don’t think, Nate. I know.” It’s a weird habit he picked up from some Italian mafia movie, and I’m not even sure what value it adds to our discourse.
“Not that it’s any of your business, after you’ve made it clear that you’re not in my cheering squad, but I’m making great progress with Eva.” I accompany my phrase with a coy smirk. “Last night, when I dropped her off, her gaze lingered on my mouth a second longer than was necessary. Maybe even a few seconds.”
The only reason I didn’t go for kissing her then and there was because her grandmother appeared in her nightgown. Quite a nice lady indeed, even if I would have wished her into the furthest corner of the world when she interrupted us.
Zach gives me an exaggerated grimace of surprise. “Oh, really? Wow. This is…” He nods a few times as if he’s impressed, but then a chuckle bubbles up from his throat.
“What?” I ask sounding way more hostile than I want to.
“Can’t you see it, Nate? What you just told me is proof that you’re well on your way to losing this bet. My two cents is that you’ve already lost it.”
I shake my head. What does he mean? Even after telling him that Eva is showing clear signs of attraction toward me, he still thinks I’m the loser in this?
Zach points at his own ears. “Are you listening to yourself when you speak about Eva? Her gaze lingered on my mouth? Hello? When did you ever say anything remotely similar about any of the women you’ve dated?”
I put my elbows on the table for support. Maybe this morning I overdid it with the pull-ups in my warm-up. That must be the reason my arms muscles seem to be burning and shooting these uncomfortable jolts into my ribcage. “Maybe never, Zach. But I’ve also never pursued anyone with whom I had to make things happen this fast or else lose a position I’m destined for.”
Zach steps away from the camera for a second, and when he comes back, he’s holding a glass of milk. He gulps it down eagerly, and after wiping down his milk mustache, he grins at me. “Whatever the explanation you give yourself, you
sound like a guy from one of those freakin’ telenovelas my sister would watch. Don Nathan. Yeah, it has a certain charm to it.”
Him comparing me with a hero from a love serial should be offensive, but instead it just reminds me of Juan saying that I resemble a duke from Eva’s favorite show. I haven’t had the time to google the actor yet, but I should before we meet up. Just to have a better feel what kind of men she likes…
Oh, no. I freeze mid-thought, suddenly realizing what my friend meant. If my thoughts automatically flow in a direction of trying to please Eva, it isn’t because I want to win the bet. Or not entirely.
I rub my head, trying to order the mess that seems to be my brain right now.
True, Eva is pretty amazing which makes it hard to keep my head straight. I might have thought that her greatest talent was dancing, but it isn’t. She isn’t a woman who is just ravishing on the outside. She’s smart, witty, and passionate. And piercingly honest. Her words move something in me. No matter whether she says them in that softly mocking tone as if she isn’t buying my cool billionaire act, shoots them at me as fiery provocations, or announces them in a quiet murmur. When she speaks to me, my body does funny things.
Like giving a beat out of rhythm. Or making my breath hitch. All reactions that I’m not used to having. But could they mean I’m deeper in this than I thought possible?
Zach watches me, his brows furrowed. “Nate, quite frankly, by the look of you, you’re just evading the unavoidable. If you like this girl, you shouldn’t hide from it. It’ll bite you in the butt on the long run.”
“What are you saying?” I jerk back. “Should I just dive into whatever I’m feeling…or, rather, starting to feel for Eva?”
“That’s one way to put it, yes.” Zach nods. “It would make your situation with her much easier. Believe it or not, pal, but women actually dig sincerity and reciprocal emotions. Or so my sister always tells me.”
“Not possible.” I click my tongue. “For several reasons. First, I bragged to Murphy that I can keep my emotions out of any equation and that it’s a good thing. That’s why he came up with the condition that I’m not to fall for Eva. But even if he hadn’t, getting truly involved with Eva—I mean outside the context of the bet—wouldn’t be practical. My life is full the way it is. Can’t you see how much of my time this courtship is already eating up? If it continues like this, I might lose my edge when it comes to my ongoing cases.”
Law #1: Never Bet on Love: A Sweet Billionaire Love Story (Laws of Love) Page 16
