by J Q Anderson
“Okay, well. He’s not like that, okay? He’s actually really nice, funny, and very charming.”
“Well then, if he’s charming, you should’ve led with that.”
“What is your problem?”
“My problem? Are you out of your mind? You’re in way over your head.”
“Why?”
“That family is dangerous.”
“Dangerous how?”
She let out a long sigh of irritation.
“Tell me.”
She gave me a long look, assessing.
“Well?”
“My family’s main imports go through the port of Buenos Aires, and Sebastián’s family owns that monopoly. That’s why I know them. Look, I stay out of all that, but I know enough to say that the farther you get from this guy, the better. The Palacios family is bad news.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
She kept her eyes down, avoiding mine. Then she finally looked up, her face etched in concern. “They’re high profile in very powerful circles. People call them the Kings of Midnight. They own all the docks in Puerto Madero. A lot of different businesses, too, it’s a whole empire. Don Martín, Sebastián’s father, controls everything. Nothing gets past him, or his right hand, Julián de la Viña. When it comes to imports, they call the shots, and if anyone refuses to play by their rules, they’re out of business, for good, or they just…disappear.”
“Come on.”
“I’m serious. Find someone else, Cami. Anyone. Just…not him.”
I took a gulp of water from an open bottle on the counter. Shit. I didn’t want to know any more. “Let’s drop it, okay?”
“Camila, just…be careful.”
“Jesus, I only went out with him once.”
“You already went out with him?”
“Yeah, the other night.”
“Camila!”
I raised my palms. “It was just dinner. Then he brought me back here and said good night. Don’t get excited.”
“You have no idea what—”
“Nata. Please. I’m a big girl.”
“Do your parents know?”
“No. It was one date.”
“Why him?”
“Because…I like him.”
She turned away and reached into a cabinet for plates. “Whatever,” she said. “I just…I don’t like this.”
I rolled my eyes. “Look, seriously. I hardly know him. And before you flip out, I’m seeing him again tomorrow. He came by the theater tonight to ask me out.” I busied myself with another long gulp of water.
She turned. “Another date?”
“Yes.”
“I…. Shit.” She sighed. “I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me any of this. Can I persuade you to reconsider? Meet one of Teo’s friends?” She leaned casually on the counter, the brilliant negotiator she was.
“Let’s drop this, really. Did you make enough for me?” I picked up a bag of sliced almonds from the counter and unzipped the seal.
Nata pulled the bowl away. “No almonds. All my costumes are almost finished. I really need to watch it till opening night.”
“Stop it, you’re a twig.” I reached for her hand. “Hey, I want you to be okay with this. I’ll take care of myself.”
Her expression hardened. “I’ll be watching him.”
Friday rehearsal was painful. There appeared to be a lot of problem areas with Act I, which sent Madame’s mood downhill. I snuck glances at the wall clock, wondering if the damned thing was broken.
When rehearsal was finally over, I bolted to the door, almost tripping over Verónica.
“Watch it!” she said, and I smiled. I took the stairs two at a time, then hailed a taxi as I rushed to the curb.
By nine in the evening, I was ready—and a nervous wreck. I browsed through my new Pointe magazine but couldn’t sit still and kept turning pages without paying attention. Jesus, calm down.
I was all out of distractions when the downstairs doorbell finally rang. I sprinted. Pausing by the intercom, I chuckled at my lack of practice being on a date.
“Hey,” Sebastián’s low voice greeted me. Electricity traveled through me. Damn.
“I’ll be down in a sec.”
Chapter 11
He waited, leaning casually against the brick wall outside the foyer. Our eyes met through the glass door, and he gave me a little wave. I grinned like an idiot.
“Hello, beautiful,” he said, and I couldn’t remember how to breathe. His gaze locked on my mouth like he wanted to kiss me.
“Hi.”
He tipped his head down, and our lips formed a slow, intimate kiss.
“I’m one lucky bastard.” He held my face in his hands—something I was getting used to and it sent my pulse sprinting every time—brushing my hair back as he looked deep into my eyes. I lost myself in that uncharted color of his. He smiled, interlacing his fingers with mine and tugging me toward the street. “I can’t wait to show you my house.”
We walked, holding hands like two kids who had just became best friends. After a block or so, he stopped by a vintage, silver Alfa Romeo sports car and opened the passenger door.
“Very James Bond-ish,” I said.
Inside, the car was sleek and elegant. A vintage piece of art. It suited him. Sebastián blazed in and out of traffic with ease. I worried we would get pulled over for speeding, but he seemed unconcerned. Goose bumps prickled my arm when his hand brushed mine as he reached out to switch gears.
At the light, I stole a glance at the defined lines of his profile and wondered what I had done right to have this glorious man interested in taking me out on a date. He caught me staring and flashed a smile.
“I have a confession to make,” he said sternly, looking back at the road.
“Oh?”
“I’m very excited about this date. A bit nervous, even.” He bit his lip to hold a smile. Mmm, his mouth was so sexy.
“Me too,” I said. “But…why would you be nervous? Don’t you do this all the time? Dates?”
“Hmm…Yes and no.”
“Oh, come on. I doubt you have any problems meeting women.”
He rubbed the back of his head and shrugged. “I meet people, yes. But they’re always the same. Outside of work commitments, I don’t go out much. I find the whole dating thing just…well, boring, to be honest.”
At least we have that in common.
“But there must’ve been someone special,” I said. “Someone that stole your heart?”
His expression was suddenly somber. “A long time ago,” he said. A pang of jealousy flicked my mind. Suddenly I wanted to know everything about this mystery woman. “You intrigue me,” he said, distracting me.
“I do?”
“Yes. I haven’t met anyone I connected with…well, like this.” He shot me a glance, and I could swear I saw him blush. It was adorable, and unbelievably sexy.
We drove north through the neighborhoods that bordered the river: La Lucila, Martinez, Acassuso. The houses quickly became more affluent and spaced apart as we turned toward the river and down the hills of San Isidro. He stopped by an ornate iron gate and punched in a code. The gate opened slowly, giving way to a long, winding road that disappeared into a thick forest. A collage of greens unfolded endlessly in every direction. Jesus, the property was immense. The road ended in a circular driveway by a beautiful home of…French design? It was classic and beautiful. I swallowed, my mouth dry.
A man in his mid-seventies approached from the entrance. He greeted Sebastián politely but with a familiarity in his manner that was warm and endearing. His face was weathered and heavily creased, his silver hair peppered with black and neatly combed back. He opened my door and offered me a smile that reached his deep blue eyes, immediately making me feel welcome.
“Camila, this is Marcél,” said Sebastián. “Marcél, meet Camila.”
“Camila, it is my pleasure, ma chérie,” said Marcél with a charming French accent. “Everything is ready
,” he announced to Sebastián.
“Thank you.”
Marcél nodded and disappeared through the front door.
Inside, the estate was simply stunning, a masterful adaptation of the classic style of the house into large, livable spaces with window walls and modern furnishings. The sweet scent of jasmine mixed with wood lingered in the air. I found it comforting. The smell of a home. On the other side of the massive windows stretched a long downhill of green treetops with an unobstructed view of the river. It was magnificent.
“Wow.” I sighed.
“You like it?”
“Like it? This view is incredible. And so is your house. Did you design it?”
“No, I remodeled it,” he said, glancing around.
“It’s the most beautiful home I’ve ever seen. What’s the style?”
“The house itself is French-Norman. It’s been in my family for generations. Over the years, I changed some things around to make it more comfortable, more modern. Want a tour?”
“Yes.”
As he showed me around, Sebastián explained the house had been built by his great-grandfather in the early 1900s. He spoke passionately about the architectural details. I followed around with wide eyes, taking it all in: wide-plank floors made of mahogany, soft arches dividing the rooms, ceiling beams and huge windows that allowed every space to be flooded with light. Every room radiated a similar feeling of treasured history but had been adapted organically to incorporate the comfort of modern life.
Upstairs, he guided me down a hallway that led to several different rooms: a library with hundreds of books and plush leather couches, a gym with a treadmill and an ample section with neatly aligned weights, ropes, and bands, and then his office—wow. This room was a sanctuary framed by floor-to-ceiling windows overviewing the east side of the property. The view was mesmerizing. In the center, a large architect’s desk held an unfinished sketch of a building. I grazed my fingers over the edge of the desk, afraid to disrupt the perfect harmony in the room. The space was immaculate. Everything was organized with methodical care. Not a paper out of place. He worked here? Where was the mail, the piles?
I absorbed every detail, spellbound, fascinated that he was letting me into the most private corners of his world. As we moved to the end of the hallway, he opened a door to an empty room. The walls were completely bare, painted in an off-white. To the east, and following the design of the house, a wall of glass showcased the forest outside. The view was stunning, an unobstructed panorama of the river, now a mirror to the golds and silvers left by the descending sun. I ambled to the middle of the room, keeping my eyes on the river.
“This is fantastic.”
“It is,” he said from behind me. “This is my favorite room in the whole house, and yet, I can’t bring myself to decide what to do with it.”
“This is where I would want to exist. Right here,” I said, sitting on the floor without taking my eyes off the pink sky. “There’s something magical about this room.”
“That’s funny,” he said, standing next to me. “That’s exactly how I feel about it.” He looked down at me for a silent moment, then extended his hand. “Come.”
In the dining room downstairs, a rustic table big enough for twelve people was elegantly set for two. Glass sliding doors opened to the forest that extended downhill all the way to the river, the foliage glistening in a mosaic of gold and greens. As the evening faded into twilight, the glinting lights of tiny sailboats awakened in the distance. I stood by the glass, dazed by the view, so perfect it almost seemed fake.
Sebastián took my hand in his and kissed it. “You’re very quiet.”
“I’m a bit…speechless. It’s so beautiful.”
“Indeed,” he responded, but when I looked up, his eyes were on me. My heart did a triple ballotté and landed flawlessly back in my chest.
“Come. Marcél made a nice dinner for us. I think he was happy to cook for someone other than me.” He led me to the table and pulled out my chair.
“You don’t have people over often? This is such a big house.”
“No. Just Julián, sometimes.”
“Julián?” I remembered Nata saying that name and vaguely wondered if it was the same person.
“He’s almost family and also my partner at the studio. He's a good friend. I don’t bring women here, except Mercedes, Julián’s sister. But she doesn’t count as a ‘guest,’ I suppose.”
“I would’ve thought you had parties all the time. It’s the perfect house for that.”
“No, I told you. I’m a very private person.”
“I must be special, then.”
“You are.” He picked up a bottle of sauvignon blanc from an iced bucket and poured it into the crystal glasses. “To second chances.”
“To second chances.” I took a sip. Mmm, the wine was exquisite. “So, I want to know more about your family. What about your parents? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“My mother died of lung cancer when I was still in college.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah. It was quick, though. Sadly, by the time they discovered it, there wasn’t much they could do. I have a brother, Alejandro, but he lives abroad. My partner, Julián, and his sister, Mercedes, are like siblings to me, though we are not actually related. Then there are a few aunts and uncles, but most of them live outside Buenos Aires.”
“And your dad? Does he live close by?”
“No, he lives in an estancia just outside Buenos Aires. He’s still very active and the head of most of the family businesses, but he now has more people involved and manages them remotely from outside the city.”
I let his words linger, trying to imagine a life with almost no family. I loved growing up with three siblings. Life at home had never been lonely.
“What about Marcél? Does he live with you?”
“Yes. He’s like family. I’ve actually known Marcél for a long time.” He let out a heavy sigh and took off the lid of a large platter in the center of the table: steaks, roasted potatoes, and sautéed green beans. He served a generous portion on my plate. It looked delicious, but if I kept eating like this every night, I would soon be in trouble. He continued, oblivious, “It’s quite a story.”
“I love stories,” I said, taking a bite of filet mignon. It was heavenly. I vowed to stop at half of my plate and skip lunch tomorrow.
“I met Marcél when I was a kid. At the time, my father was taking over as head of customs in the Puerto Madero docks. I was seven or eight, and he liked bringing me along with him. He hoped the atmosphere would become familiar to me and the business, second nature. I was mostly bored and used to kill time wandering through the docks.
“One morning, while my father was doing rounds at the warehouses, I chased after a dog, not realizing how far away I was getting. When I turned to go back, there were four men walking in my direction. I recognized one of them, but I don’t think they knew who I was. The alleys between the warehouses are shady. Not a place for a kid. They were drinking, cussing, and smashing bottles against the walls. I was almost at the other side, so I kept going.”
“You weren’t scared?”
He shrugged. “No. One of the many traits of being a Palacios, I guess. People stay clear. Nobody ever bothered me.”
I sighed inwardly. It was hard to imagine a young child who wouldn’t be afraid in that situation. Whatever his last name was.
“Anyway, when they were just a few steps away, one of the men called me over. He was missing teeth, kept grinning. His eyes were pitch black. I remember he made me think of a crow. I was about to run when another man appeared from the side, blocking them. That was the first time I saw Marcél. He was small, wiry. But he still yelled at them, threatening to turn them in to the boss. They laughed. Marcél told me to get out of there. I didn’t want to just leave him, but I saw the fear in his eyes and ran to find my father.” Sebastián’s expression darkened.
“What happened?”
“They beat him to a pulp. We found him on the ground, half dead. My father had brought some of his men with him. They carried him back to the docks, and we waited till the ambulance came. Marcél kept rambling that he had no money. He begged my father to let him die in peace.”
“God, poor guy.”
“My father visited him at the hospital every day and told him he would never forget what he had done for me. Papá insisted he come live with us and work for him. Marcél had no family, so he agreed. I liked having him around. He was smart, worldly, and knew more about people than anyone I had ever met. Plus, he’s an amazing cook. When my father moved away, Marcél stayed with me and became as close as family. I’m lucky I still have him.”
I looked at my half-eaten plate, realizing I had eaten more than I intended. His was almost intact. “I’m sorry your food got cold.”
He looked up and smiled, then worked on his dinner while I answered a few questions about my life at the theater.
We finished the last of the wine, and as his glass met his lips, his eyes pierced mine with that intensity that teased my heart rate. “I’m glad you came. I wanted this second chance with you.” He held my gaze for a long moment, then got up and took my hand. What now? “Come. I want to show you something.”
He led me to a terrace, an oasis under an iron pergola covered by a blanket of white, climbing roses. The deep perfume of the pale buds mingled with the evening breeze. In the horizon, the night sky stretched over the river like black velvet dusted with glimmering stars. The air smelled of freshly cut grass. A slice of silver moon watched us from afar. The view was sensational.
Sebastián snaked his arm around my waist to bring me close. Strange sensations unfurled inside me, urgent, impatient. I trembled when his breath brushed my lips.
“I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re so different from other women I’ve met. I’m glad you fell into my life, crazy girl,” he whispered against my mouth. The sensation was inebriating. I closed my eyes.
“I’m happy I fell into your life too. Now stop talking and kiss me.”
Soft laughter teased my lips, then our mouths melded. The night spun around us. I wrapped shaky arms around his waist, and his hands tangled in my hair, bringing me closer. His tongue played with mine, awakening my desire. I felt myself melt in his hands. When he broke away, we were both breathing hard. His pale eyes searched mine with what looked like astonishment.
