Chapter Three
This wasn’t how I had pictured my evening going.
It was late, InTech’s headquarters had mostly emptied, I had at least four or five hours of work ahead of me, and my stomach was rumbling so loudly that I suspected it was about to start eating itself.
“Estoy jodida,” I said under my breath, realizing how screwed I really was.
One, because the last thing I had eaten was a sad green salad that clearly turned out to be a big mistake as much as it had seemed the most sensible idea, having the wedding a total of four weeks away. Two, I didn’t have any snacks at hand and no change for the vending machine downstairs. And three, the PowerPoint slide on my laptop screen was still blinking at me, half-empty.
My hands fell on my keyboard, hesitating over the keys for a full minute.
A text pinged from my phone, drawing my attention. Rosie’s name flashed on the screen. I unlocked it, and an image immediately popped open.
It was a photo of a luscious flat white, topped by a beautiful milk foam rosette. Beside it, there was a triple-chocolate brownie that shamelessly glinted under the light.
Rosie: You in?
She didn’t need to specify the plan or send me the address. That feast could only belong to Around the Corner, our favorite coffee shop in the city. My mouth started immediately salivating at the thought of being in that caffeinated safe haven on Madison Avenue.
Muffling a groan, I wrote back.
Lina: I’d love to, but I’m stuck at work.
Three dots jumped on the screen.
Rosie: You sure? I saved you a seat.
Before I could type back a reply, another text came through.
Rosie: I got the last brownie, but I’ll share. Only if you get here quickly. I’m not made of steel.
I sighed. Definitely better than the reality of working extra time on a Wednesday evening but …
Lina: I can’t. I’m working on the Open Day stuff I told you about. I’m deleting that photo, BTW. Too tempting.
Rosie: Oh no. You didn’t tell me more than the fact that you were stuck with it. When’s it taking place?
Lina: Right after I’m back from Spain. *bride emoji* *skull emoji*
Rosie: I still don’t get why you have to do it. Aren’t you swamped with work?
Yep. That was exactly what I should have been doing, the job I was paid to do. Not organizing an open-doors day that served as an excuse to show around a bunch of suits that I’d have to feed, babysit, and be extranice to. Whatever the hell that meant. But complaining wouldn’t get me anywhere.
Lina: *unamused emoji* It is what it is.
Rosie: Yeah, well, I don’t like Jeff all that much right now.
Lina: I thought you said he was a silver fox. *smirking emoji*
Rosie: I said, objectively. And he can look good for a 50-year-old and still be a jerk. You know I seem to find those particularly attractive.
Lina: You kinda do, Rosie. That Ted was a total assface. Happy you two are not a thing anymore.
Rosie: *poo emoji*
The texts stopped coming long enough for me to think our conversation was done. Good. I needed to work on this crappy—
My phone pinged again.
Rosie: Sorry, the owner’s husband just showed up, and I got distracted. #swoon
Rosie: He is so handsome. He brings her flowers once a week. *crying emoji*
Lina: Rosalyn, I’m trying to work here. Snap a photo and show me tomorrow.
Rosie: Sorry, sorry. Did you talk to Aaron, BTW? *thinking face emoji* Is he still waiting?
I wasn’t proud to admit that my stomach had dropped at the unexpected mention of something I hadn’t let myself think about.
Liar. These past two days had felt like waiting for a bomb to drop when I least expected it.
No, ever since Monday, Aaron hadn’t said anything about the whole I’ll be your date to the wedding nonsense. Neither had Rosie because we had barely seen each other with how busy both our schedules were.
Lina: I have no idea what you mean. Is he waiting for something?
Rosie: …
Lina: Something like a heart transplant? I heard he doesn’t have one.
Rosie: Ha, funny. You should keep the jokes for when you two talk.
Lina: We won’t.
Rosie: That’s right. You two are too busy staring at each other intently. *fire emoji*
An unwanted blush rushed to my cheeks.
Lina: What’s that supposed to mean?
Rosie: You know what it means.
Lina: That I want to light him up in a pyre like a witch? Then, okay.
Rosie: He’s probably working late too.
Lina: So?
Rosie: So … you could always go to his office and glare at him in that way I’m sure he loves.
Whoa. What the heck?
I moved uncomfortably in my chair as I stared at my phone screen in horror.
Lina: WTF are you talking about? Did you eat too much chocolate again? You know it makes you trippy. *shocked emoji*
Rosie: Deflect all you want.
Lina: Not deflecting, just genuinely concerned about your health right now.
Rosie: *eye roll emoji*
This was new. My friend had never directly addressed whatever nonsense she thought she saw. She still dropped a comment here and there every once in a while.
“Simmering tension,” she had said one time.
To which I had snorted so hard that a little bit of water came out my nose.
That was how ridiculous I thought her observations were.
In my humble opinion, all those soapy shows she watched were starting to mess up her perception of reality. Hell, and I was the Spanish one out of the two. I had grown up watching soap operas with my abuela. But I surely wasn’t living in one. There wasn’t simmering tension between Aaron Blackford and me. I did not glare at him in a way he loved. Aaron didn’t love anything—he couldn’t do that without a heart.
Lina: All right, I have work to do, so I’ll let you get back to your coffee, but stop raiding the pastry counter. I’m concerned.
Rosie: Okay, okay. I’ll stop—for now. *heart emoji* Good luck!
Lina: *heart emoji* *fire emoji*
Locking my phone and placing it facedown on the table, I took a deep, energizing breath.
Time to get this show going.
The image of the chocolate brownie popped in my head. Assaulting me.
No, Lina.