Spanish Love Of Deception

CHAPTER ONE

I’ll be your date to the wedding.”

Words I had never—not even in my wildest dreams, and

trust me, I had a vivid imagination—conceived of hearing

from that deep and rich tone reached my ears.

Looking down at my coffee, I squinted my eyes, trying to search for any

signs of noxious substances floating around. That would at least explain what

was happening. But nope.

Nothing. Just what was left of my Americano.

“I’ll do it if you need someone that badly,” the deep voice came again.

Eyes growing wide, I lifted my head. I opened my mouth and then

snapped it closed again.

“Rosie …” I trailed off, the word leaving me in a whisper. “Is he really

there? Can you see him? Or did someone spike my coffee without me

noticing?”

Rosie—my best friend and colleague in InTech, the New York City–

based engineering consulting company, where we had met and worked—

slowly nodded her head. I watched her dark curls bounce with the motion, an

expression of disbelief marring her otherwise soft features. She lowered her

voice. “Nope. He’s right there.” Her head peeked around me very quickly.

“Hi. Good morning!” she said brightly before her attention returned to my

face. “Right behind you.”

Lips parted, I stared at my friend for a long moment. We were standing at

the far end of the hallway of the eleventh floor of the headquarters.

Both our offices were relatively close together, so the moln Tech I had entered

the building located in the heart of Manhattan, in the vicinity of Central Park,

I had gone straight to her office.

My plan had been to grab Rosie and plop down on the upholstered

wooden armchairs that served as a waiting sitting area for visiting clients,

which were usually unoccupied this early in the morning. But we never made

it. I somehow dropped the bomb before we ever sat down. That was how

much my predicament needed Rosie’s immediate attention. And then … then

he had materialized out of nowhere.

“Should I repeat that a third time?” His question sent a new wave of

disbelief rushing down my body, freezing the blood in my veins.

He wouldn’t. Not because he couldn’t, but because what he was saying

did not make any freaking sense. Not in our world. One where we—

“All right, fine,” he sighed. “You can take me.” He paused, sending more

of that ice-cold wariness through me. “To your sister’s wedding.”

My spine locked up.

My shoulders stiffened.

I even felt the satin blouse I had tucked into my camel slacks stretch with

the sudden motion.

I can take him.

To my sister’s wedding.

As my … date?

I blinked, his words echoing inside my head.

Then, something unhitched inside of me. The absurdity of whatever this

was—whatever perverse joke this man I knew not to trust was trying to pull

off—made a snort bubble its way up my throat and reach my lips, leaving me

quickly and loudly. As if it had been in a rush to get out.

A grunt came from behind me. “What’s so funny?” His voice dropped,

turning colder. “I’m completely serious.”

I bit back another burst of laughter. I didn’t believe that. Not for a second.

“The chances of him,” I told Rosie, “being actually serious are the same

chances I have of having Chris Evans pop out of nowhere and confess his

undying love for me.” I made a show of looking right and left. “Nonexistent.

So, Rosie, you were saying something about … Mr. Frenkel, right?”

There was no Mr. Frenkel.

“Lina,” Rosie said with that fake, toothy smile I knew she wore when she

didn’t want to be rude. “He looks like he’s serious,” she spoke through her

freaky smile. Her gaze inspected the man standing behind me. “Yep. I think

he might be serious.”

“Nope. He can’t be.” I shook my head, still refusing to turn around and

acknowledge that there was a possibility my friend was right.

There couldn’t be. There was no way Aaron Blackford, colleague and

well-established affliction of mine, would even attempt to offer something

like that. No. Way.

An impatient sigh came from behind me. “This is getting repetitive,

Catalina.” A long pause. Then, another noisy exhale left his lips, this one

much longer. But I did not turn around. I held my ground. “Ignoring me

won’t make me disappear. You know that.”

I did. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t keep trying,” I muttered under my

breath.

Rosie leveled me with a look. Then, she peeked around me again, keeping

that toothy grin in place. “Sorry about that, Aaron. We are not ignoring you.”

Her grin strained. “We are … debating something.”

“We are ignoring him though. You don’t need to spare his feelings. He

doesn’t have any.”

“Thanks, Rosie,” Aaron told my friend, some of the usual coldness

leaving his voice. Not that he’d be nice to anybody. Nice wasn’t something

Aaron did. I didn’t even think he was able to pull off friendly. But he had

always been less … grim when it came to Rosie. A treatment that had never

been for me. “Do you think you can tell Catalina to turn around? I’d

appreciate talking to her face and not to the back of her head.” His tone

dropped back to minus zero degrees. “That is, of course, if this is not one of

her jokes that I never seem to understand, much less find funny.”

Heat rushed up my body, reaching my face.

“Sure,” Rosie complied. “I think … I think I can do that.” My friend’s

gaze bounced from that point behind me to my face, her eyebrows raised.

“Lina, so, erm, Aaron would like you to turn around if this is not one of those

jokes that—”

“Thanks, Rosie. I got that,” I gritted out between my teeth. Feeling my

cheeks burn, I refused to face him. That would mean letting him win

whatever game he was playing. Plus, he had just called me unfunny. Him. “If

you could, tell Aaron that I don’t think one can laugh at, or much less

understand, jokes when one lacks a sense of humor, please. That would be

great. Thanks.”

CHAPTER TWO

Rosie scratched the side of her head, looking pleadingly at me. Don’t

make me do this, she seemed to ask me with her eyes.

I widened mine at her, ignoring her plea and begging her to go along.

She released a breath and then looked around me one more time.

“Aaron,” she said, her fake grin getting bigger, “Lina thinks that—”

“I heard her, Rosie. Thank you.”

I was so attuned to him—to this—that I noticed the slight change in his

tone that signaled the switch to the voice he only used with me. The one that

was just as dry and cold but that would now come with an extra layer of

disdain and distance. The one that would soon lead to a scowl. I didn’t even

need to turn and take a look at him to know that. It was somehow always

there when it came to me and to this … thing between us.

“I’m pretty sure my words are reaching Catalina down there just fine, but

if you could tell her that I have work to do and I cannot entertain this much

longer, I would appreciate it.”

Down there?

Stupidly large man.

My size was average. Average for a Spaniard, sure. But average

nonetheless. I was five foot three—almost four, thank you very much.

Rosie’s green eyes were back on me. “So, Aaron has work, and he would

appreciate—”

“If—” I stopped myself when I heard the word sounding high-pitched and

squeaky. I cleared my throat and tried again. “If he is so busy, then please tell

him to feel free to spare me. He can go back to his office and resume

whatever workaholic activities he had shockingly paused to stick his nose in

something that does not concern him.”

I watched my friend’s mouth open, but the man behind me spoke before a

sound could come out of her lips, “So, you heard what I said. My offer.

Good.” A pause. In which I cursed under my breath. “Then, what’s your

answer?”

Rosie’s face filled with shock one more time. My gaze remained on her,

and I could picture how the dark brown in my eyes was turning to red with

my growing exasperation.

My answer? What the hell was he even trying to accomplish? Was this a

new, inventive way of playing with my head? My sanity?

“I have no idea what he’s talking about. I heard nothing,” I lied. “You can

tell him that too.”

Rosie tucked a curl behind her ear, her eyes jumping very briefly to

Aaron and then returning to me. “I think he’s referring to the moment he

offered to be your date to your sister’s wedding,” she explained with a soft

voice. “You know, right after you told me that things had changed and that

you now needed to find someone—or anyone, I think you said—to go to

Spain with you and attend that wedding because, otherwise, you’d die a slow,

painful death and—”

“I think I got it,” I rushed out, feeling my face burn again from the

realization that Aaron had heard all of that. “Thanks, Rosie. You can stop

with the recap.” Or I’d be dying that slow, painful death right about now.

“I think you used the word desperate,” Aaron chipped in.

My ears burned, probably flashing about five shades of radioactive red. “I

did not,” I breathed out. “I did not use that word.”

“You … sort of did, sweetie,” my best friend—no, former best friend as

of right now—confirmed.

Eyes narrowed, I mouthed, What the hell, traitor?

But both of them were right.

“Fine. So, I said that. Doesn’t mean I’m that desperate.”

“That’s what truly helpless people would say. But whatever makes you

sleep better at night, Catalina.”

Cursing under my breath for the umpteenth time that morning, I closed

my eyes briefly. “This is none of your business, Blackford, but I’m not

helpless, okay? And I sleep at night just fine. No, actually, I’ve never slept

better.”

What was one more lie to the pile I was hoisting around, huh?

Contrary to what I had just denied, I was truly, helplessly desperate to

find someone to be my date to that wedding. But that didn’t mean I’d—

“Sure.”

Ironically, out of all the damn words Aaron Blackford had said to the

back of my head that morning, that one word was what made me break my

stance to pretend I remained unaffected.

That sure, sounding all condescending and bored and dismissive and just

so Aaron.

Sure.

My blood bubbled.

It was so impulsive, such a knee-jerk reaction to that four-letter word—

which, uttered by anybody else, would have meant nothing—that I didn’t

even realize my body was turning until it was too late.

Because of his unearthly height, I was welcomed by a broad chest

covered in a pressed white button-down that made me itch to fist the fabric

and wrinkle it with my hands because who pranced through life so sleek and

spotless all the damn time? Aaron Blackford—that was who.

My gaze trailed up rounded shoulders and a strong neck, reaching the

straight line of his jaw. His lips pressed flatly, just like I had known they

would. My eyes traveled further up then, reaching his blue ones—blue that

reminded me of the depths of the ocean, where everything was cold and

deadly—and finding them on me.

One of his brows rose.

“Sure?” I hissed.

“Yes.” That head, topped with raven hair, gave one single nod, his gaze

not leaving mine. “I don’t want to waste more time arguing about something

you are too stubborn to admit, so yes. Sure.”

This infuriating blue-eyed man who probably spent more time ironing his

clothes than interacting with other human beings was not going to make me

lose my temper this early in the morning.

Fighting to keep my body under control, I inhaled a long, deep breath. I

tucked a lock of chestnut hair behind my ear. “If this is such a waste of time,

I genuinely don’t know what you are still doing here. Please don’t stay on my

or Rosie’s account.”

A noncommittal noise left Miss Traitor’s mouth.

“I would have,” Aaron admitted in a level tone. “But you still haven’t

answered my question.”

“That wasn’t a question,” I said, the words tasting sour in my tongue.

“Whatever you said was not a question. But that’s not important because I

don’t need you, thank you very much.”

“Sure,” he repeated, turning my exasperation one notch up. “Although I

think you do.”

“You think wrong.”

That brow rose higher. “And yet it sounded like you really do need me.”

“Then, you must be experiencing serious hearing issues because, yet

again, you heard wrong. I don’t need you, Aaron Blackford.” I swallowed,

willing some of the dryness away. “I could write it down for you if you want.

Send you an email, too, if that’d help at all.”

He seemed to think about it for a second, looking uninterested. But I

knew better than to believe he’d let it go so easily. Which he proved as soon

as he opened his mouth again. “Didn’t you say the wedding is in a month and

you don’t have a date?”

My lips pressed in a tight line. “Maybe. I can’t recall exactly.”

I had said that. Word for word.

“Didn’t Rosie suggest that if you perhaps sat in the back and tried not to

draw any attention to yourself, nobody would notice you were attending on

your own?”

My friend’s head popped into my field of vision. “I did. I also suggested

to wear a dull color and not the stunning red dress that—”

“Rosie,” I interrupted her. “Not really helping here.”

Aaron’s eyes didn’t waver when he resumed his walk down memory lane.

“Didn’t you follow that by reminding Rosie that you were the mother freaking

—your word—maid of honor and therefore everybody and their mother—

your words again—would notice you anyway?”

“She did,” I heard Miss Traitor confirm. My head whirled in her

direction. “What?” She shrugged, signing her death sentence. “You did,

honey.”

I needed new friends. ASAP.

“She did,” Aaron corroborated, drawing my gaze and attention back to

him. “And did you not say that your ex-boyfriend is the best man and

thinking of standing in the vicinity of him, alone and lame and pathetically

single—those were your words again—made you want to tear off your own

skin?”

I had. I had said that. But I hadn’t thought Aaron was listening;

otherwise, I would have never admitted it out loud.

But he had been right there, apparently. He knew now. He had heard me

openly admit that and had just thrown it at my face. And as much as I told

myself I didn’t care—that I shouldn’t care—the pang of hurt was there all the

same. It made me feel all the more alone, lame, and pathetic.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I averted my eyes, letting them rest

somewhere close to his Adam’s apple. I didn’t want to see whatever was in

his face. Mockery. Pity. I didn’t care. I could spare the knowledge of one

more person thinking of me that way.

His throat was the one that worked then. I knew because it was the only

part of him I allowed myself to look at.

“You are desperate.”

I exhaled, the air leaving my lips forcefully. One nod—that was all I gave

him. And I didn’t even understand why I had done it. This wasn’t me. I

usually fought back until I was the one who drew blood first. Because that

was what we did. We didn’t spare each other’s feelings. This wasn’t new.

“Then, take me. I will be your date to the wedding, Catalina.”

My gaze drew up very slowly, a strange mix of wariness and

embarrassment washing over me. Him witnessing all this was bad enough,

but him somehow trying to use it to his advantage? To get the better of me?

Unless he wasn’t. Unless perhaps there was an explanation, a reason, as

to why he was doing this. Offering himself to be my date.

Studying his face, I pondered all these options and possible motivations,

not coming to any kind of reasonable conclusion. Not finding any possible

answer that would help me understand why or what he was trying to

accomplish.

Only the truth. The reality. We weren’t friends. We barely tolerated each

other, Aaron Blackford and I. We were spiteful to each other, pointed out

each other’s mistakes, criticized how differently we worked, thought, and

lived. We condemned our differences. At some point in the past, I would

have thrown darts at a poster of his face. And I was pretty sure he would have

done the same because I wasn’t the only one driving along Hate Boulevard. It

was a two-way road. Not only that, but it had actually been him, the one

causing our fallout. I hadn’t started this feud between us. So, why? Why was

he pretending to offer me help, and why would I humor him by even

considering it?

“I might be desperate to find a date, but I’m not that desperate,” I

repeated. “Just like I said.”

His sigh was tired. Impatient. Infuriating. “I’ll let you think about it. You

know you have no other options.”

“Nothing to think about.” I cut my hand through the air between us. Then,

I smiled my version of Rosie’s fake, toothy grin. “I’d take a chimpanzee

dressed in a tuxedo before taking you.”

His eyebrows rose, amusement barely entering his eyes. “Now, come on;

we both know you wouldn’t. While there are chimpanzees that would rise up

to the occasion, it will be your ex standing there. Your family. You said you

need to make an impression, and I will accomplish exactly that.” He tilted his

head. “I’m your best option.”

I snorted, clapping my hands once. Smug blue-eyed pain in my ass. “You

are my best nothing, Blackford. And I have plenty of other options,” I

countered, shrugging a shoulder. “I’ll find someone on Tinder. Maybe put out

an ad in the New York Times. I can find someone.”

“In only a few weeks? Highly unlikely.”

“Rosie has friends. I’ll take one of them.”

That had been my plan all along. It was the reason why I had grabbed

Rosie so early in the day. Rookie mistake on my part, I realized. I should

have waited to get off work and gotten Rosie to a safe, Aaron-free place to

talk. But after yesterday’s call with Mamá … yeah. Things had changed. My

situation had definitely changed. I needed someone, and I couldn’t stress

enough that anyone would do. Anyone who wasn’t Aaron, of course. Rosie

had been born and raised in the city. There had to be someone she knew.

“Right, Rosie? One of your friends must be available.”

My friend’s head popped in again. “Maybe Marty? He loves weddings.”

I shot a quick glance at her. “Wasn’t Marty the one who got drunk at your

cousin’s wedding, stole the mic from the band, and sang ‘My Heart Will Go

On’ until your brother had to drag him off the stage?”

“That would be him.” She winced.

“Yeah, no.” I couldn’t have that at my sister’s wedding. She’d rip his

heart out of his chest and serve it as dessert. “What about Ryan?”

“Happily engaged.”

A sigh left my lips. “Not surprised. Ryan is a total catch.”

“I know. That’s why I tried so many times to get you two together, but

you—”

I cleared my throat loudly, interrupting her. “We aren’t discussing why I

am single.” I quickly glanced back at Aaron. His eyes were on me, narrowed.

“How about … Terry?”

“Moved to Chicago.”

“Dammit.” I shook my head, closing my eyes for an instant. This was

useless. “Then, I’ll hire an actor. Pay him to act as my date.”

“That’s probably expensive,” Aaron said flatly. “And actors aren’t

exactly lying around, waiting for single people to hire and parade them as

their plus-ones.”

I pinned him with an exasperated look. “I’ll get a professional escort.”

His lips pressed in that tight, almost-hermetic way they did when he was

extremely irritated. “You’d take a male prostitute to your sister’s wedding

before taking me?”

“I said, an escort, Blackford. Por Dios,” I muttered, watching his

eyebrows bunch and turn into the scowl. “I’m not looking for that kind of

service. I just need a companion. That’s all they do. They escort you to

events.”

“That’s not what they do, Catalina.” His voice was deep and icy.

Covering me in his frosty judgment.

“Haven’t you watched any romantic comedies ever?” I watched the scowl

deepen. “Not even The Wedding Date?”

No answer, just more of that arctic staring.

“Do you even watch movies? Or do you just … work?”

There was a possibility that he didn’t even own a television. His

expression didn’t change.

God, I don’t have time for this. For him.

“You know what? Not important. I don’t care.” I threw my hands up and

then clasped them together. “Thank you for … this. Whatever it was. Great

input. But I don’t need you.”

“I think you do.”

I blinked at him. “I think you are annoying.”

“Catalina,” he started, making my irritation grow with the way he uttered

my name. “You are delusional if you think you can find someone in such a

short amount of time.”

Once more, Aaron Blackford wasn’t wrong.

I probably was a little delusional. And he didn’t even know about the lie.

My lie. Not that he’d ever do. But that didn’t change the facts. I needed

someone, anyone, but not him, not Aaron, to fly to Spain with me for Isabel’s

wedding. Because (A) I was the bride’s sister and maid of honor. (B) My ex,

Daniel, was the groom’s brother and best man. And as of yesterday, I had

learned that he was happily engaged. Something that my family had been

hiding from me. (C) If you didn’t count the few and pretty unsuccessful dates

I had gone on, I had been technically single for roughly six years. Ever since

I had left Spain and moved to the States, which had happened shortly after

my one and only relationship exploded in my face. Something that every

single attendee—because there were no secrets in families like mine and

much less in small towns like the one I had come from—knew about and

pitied me for. And (D) there was my lie.

The lie.

The one I had sort of fed my mother and consequently the whole Martín

clan because privacy and boundaries did not exist when it came to us. Hell,

by now, my lie was probably on the Announcements page of the local

newspaper.

Catalina Martín, finally, not single. Her family is happy to announce that

she will bring her American boyfriend to the wedding. Everyone is invited to

come and witness the most magical event of the decade.

Because that was what I had done. Right after the news of Daniel’s

engagement had slipped past my mother’s lips and reached my ears through

the speaker of my phone, I had said that I’d be bringing someone too. No, not

just someone. I’d said—lied, deceived, falsely announced—that I’d be

bringing my boyfriend.

Who technically did not exist.

Yet.

Okay, fine, or ever. Because Aaron was right. Finding a date in such a

short amount of time was perhaps a little optimistic. Believing I’d find

someone to pretend to be my made-up boyfriend was probably delusional.

But accepting that Aaron was my only choice and taking him up on his offer?

That was straight-up insanity.

“I see it’s finally seeping in.” Aaron’s words brought me back to the

present, and I found his blue eyes aimed at me. “I’ll let you come to terms

with it on your own. Just let me know when you do.”

My lips pursed. And when I felt my cheeks burn again—because how

lame was I for him, Aaron Blackford, who had never even liked me a tiny

little bit, to pity me enough to offer himself to be my date?—I crossed my

arms over my chest and averted my eyes from those two icy and ruthless

spots.

“Oh, and, Catalina?”

“Yeah?” The word left my lips weakly. Ugh, pathetic.

“Try not to be late to our ten o’clock meeting. It’s not cute anymore.”

My gaze shot to him, a huff stuck in my throat.

Jerk.

I swore right then and there that one day, I’d find a ladder high enough,

climb it, and chuck something really hard at his infuriating face.

One year and eight months. That was how long I had endured him. I had

been counting, biding my time.

Then, with nothing more than a nod, he turned around, and I watched him

walk away. Dismissed until further notice.

“Okay, that was …” Rosie’s voice trailed off, not ending the statement.

“Maddening? Insulting? Bizarre?” I offered, bringing my hands to my

face. “Unexpected,” she countered. “And interesting.”

Looking at her between my fingers, I watched the corners of her lips tug

up.

“Your friendship has been revoked, Rosalyn Graham.”

She chuckled. “You know you don’t mean that.”

I didn’t; she’d never get rid of me.

“So …” Rosie linked her arm with mine and ushered me down the

hallway. “What are you going to do?”

A shaky exhale left my mouth, taking all my energy with it. “I … I don’t

have the slightest idea.”

But I knew something for sure: I was not taking Aaron Blackford up on

his offer. He wasn’t my only option, and he surely wasn’t my best one either.

Hell, he wasn’t my anything. Especially not my sister wedding date

wasn’t late to our meeting.

Ever since that day a year and eight months ago, I was never

late.

Why?

Aaron Blackford.

CHAPTER THREE

One time. I had been late one single time in Aaron’s presence, and yet he

kept flaunting that fact every chance he got.

He never chalked it up to me being Spanish or a woman. Both unjustified

stereotypes when it came to being notoriously unpunctual.

Aaron didn’t do nonsense. He pointed out facts; he stated verifiable

truths. He had been disciplined to do that, just like every other engineer in the

consulting company where we worked, me included. And technically, I had

been late. That one time all those months ago. It was true that I had missed

the first fifteen minutes of an important presentation. It was also true that it

had been Aaron leading it—during his first week in InTech—and it was again

true that I had made a miserably loud entrance that might have involved

accidentally knocking over a coffee pitcher.

On Aaron’s stack of dossiers for the presentation.

Fine, partly on his pants too.

Not the best way to make an impression on a new colleague, but tough

shit. Things like that happened all the time. Tiny, unintentional, unexpected

accidents like those were common. People got over them and went on with

their lives.

But not Aaron.

Instead, week after week and month after month ever since that day, he

had barked stuff like, “Try not to be late to our ten o’clock meeting. It’s not

cute anymore,” at me.

Instead, every single time he entered a conference room and found me

sitting there, painfully early, he checked the watch on his wrist and raised his

eyebrows in surprise.

Instead, he moved coffee pitchers out of my reach with a warning tilt of

his head in my direction.

That was what Aaron Blackford did instead of letting go of that incident.

“Good morning, Lina.” Héctor’s kind voice reached me from the door.

I could tell he was smiling before I took in his face, just like he always

did. “Buenos días, Héctor,” I told him in the mother tongue we shared.

The man that I considered like an uncle after he welcomed me into the

close circle of his family placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed lightly.

“Doing good, mija?”

“Can’t complain.” I returned the smile.

“You coming over to the next barbecue? It’s next month, and Lourdes

keeps telling me to remind you. She’s preparing ceviche this time, and you

are the only one that will eat it.” He laughed.

It was true; no one in the Díaz family was a big fan of the fish-based

Mexican dish. Which, to this day, I still couldn’t understand.

“Stop asking dumb questions, old man.” I waved my hand in the air with

a chuckle. “Of course I’ll be there.”

Héctor was taking his usual place to my right when our three remaining

colleagues in attendance poured into the room, mumbling their good

mornings.

Lifting my gaze off Héctor’s easy smile, my eyes tracked down the men

walking around the table to assemble into our ten o’clock formation.

Across from me appeared Aaron, eyebrows raised and gaze quickly

meeting mine. I watched his lips tip down as he took a chair out.

Rolling my eyes, I moved onto Gerald, whose bald head glinted under the

fluorescent light as he folded his rather chubby frame into the chair. Last but

not least, there was Kabir, who had been recently promoted to the position

everyone in this room held—team leader of the Solutions Division of the

company. Which pretty much encompassed all disciplines but civil

engineering. Which was a beast on its own.

“Good morning, everyone,” Kabir started with the enthusiasm only

someone who had been on the job for a month would have. “This week, it’s

my turn to lead and protocol the meeting, so if you could, please say present

when I call your name.”

An exasperated grunt I was extremely familiar with filled the room.

Glancing at the blue-eyed man across the table, I found the irritated face that

went with the sound.

“Of course, Kabir,” I said with a smile even though I agreed with the

scowling man. “Please call away.”

Ocean eyes pinned me with an icy look.

Meeting his stare, I heard Kabir go through each of our names, obtaining

confirmation from both Héctor and Gerald, an unnecessarily cheery present

from me, and another grunt from Mr. Grumps.

“All right, thanks,” Kabir said. “Next point in the agenda is, project status

updates. Who would like to start?”

He was met with silence.

InTech provided engineering services for any entity that did not have the

ability or man power to design or engineer plans for their own projects.

Sometimes, they outsourced a team of five or six people, and other times,

only one person was needed. So, all five team leaders in our division were

currently working and supervising several different projects for several

different clients, and all projects never stopped moving forward. Eating away

milestones and encountering all kinds of issues and drawbacks. We had

conference calls with the clients and stakeholders on a daily basis. The status

of each project changed so briskly and in such a complex manner that there

was no way every other team leader could catch up in only a few minutes.

That was why Kabir’s question had been met with silence. And why this

meeting wasn’t completely necessary.

“Um …” Kabir shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “Okay, I can start.

Yeah, I’ll go first.” He shuffled through a folder he had brought with him.

“This week, we are presenting to Telekoor the new budget we’ve been

developing for them. As you know, it is a start-up that’s working on a cloud

service to enhance mobile data on public transportation. Well, the resources

available are rather limited and …”

I absently listened to my colleague while my gaze roamed around the

meeting room. Héctor nodded his head, although I suspected he was paying

as much attention as I was. Gerald, on the other hand, was openly checking

his phone. Rude. So rude. But I didn’t expect anything else from him.

Then, there was him. Aaron Blackford, who I realized had been staring at

me before my eyes met his.

His arm reached out in my direction, his gaze holding mine. I knew what

he was about to do. I knew. The long fingers attached to that massive palm

spread out as they met the object in front of me. The coffee pitcher. I

narrowed my eyes, watching how his hand curled around the pitcher’s

handle.

He dragged it all the way across the surface of the oak desk. Very slowly.

Then, he nodded his head.

Infuriating blue-eyed grudge-holder.

I gave him a tight, closed-lip smile—because the other option was

launching myself across the room and pouring all the contents of the

goddamn pitcher on him. Again. But this time, intentionally.

Trying to distract myself from that thought, I averted my eyes and

furiously scribbled a to-do list on my planner.

Ask Isa if the bouquet she ordered for Mamá was peonies or lilies.

Order either a peony or lily bouquet for Tía Carmen.

If we didn’t, she’d be giving me, Isa—my sister and bride—and Mamá

the stink eye until the day she or any of us kicked the bucket.

Send Papá my flight details, so he knows when to pick me up from the

airport.

Tell Isa to remind Papá that he has my flight details, so he picks me up

from the airport.

I brought the pen to my lips, this awful feeling I was forgetting something

important making me uneasy.

Chewing on my pen, I scrambled my mind for whatever it was I was

missing. Then, a voice I was terribly—and unfortunately—doomed to never

forget thundered in my head.

“You are delusional if you think you can find someone in such a short

amount of time.”

My eyes bounced back to the man sitting across from me, meeting his

gaze again. As if I had been caught doing something wrong—like thinking of

him—I felt the heat in my cheeks and returned my attention to the list.

Find a boyfriend.

I scratched that.

Find a fake boyfriend. Doesn’t need to be a real one.

“… and that’s all I have to report.” Kabir’s words registered somewhere

in the back of my head.

I continued working on my list.

Find a fake boyfriend. Doesn’t need to be a real one. And also, NOT

HIM.

Surely, I had other options. Not the escort though. A quick Google search

had confirmed that Aaron had been right. Again. Apparently, I had been lied

to by Hollywood. New York seemed to be filled with men and women

offering a wide range of varied and different kinds of services that were not

limited to escorting.

I grimaced and then chewed harder on the pen. Not that I’d ever admit

that to Aaron. I’d rather give up chocolate for a full year than admit to Aaron

that he was right.

But I was desperate at this point. He had nailed that down too. I needed to

find someone who would pretend to be in a serious, committed relationship

with me in front of my whole family. And that didn’t only include the

wedding day, but also the two days of celebratory events that preceded that.

Which meant, I was screwed. I was—

“… and that would be Lina.”

My name broke into my brain, making everything else vanish.

I dropped my pen on the table and cleared my throat. “Yes, here.” I tried

to reinsert myself in the conversation. “Listening. I’m listening.”

“Isn’t that what someone who wasn’t listening would say?”

My gaze shot across the room, meeting a pair of blue eyes on the verge of

showing amusement if the man behind them was capable of human emotions.

I straightened my back and turned a page of my planner. “I was writing

down something for a call I have with a client later and lost track of the

conversation,” I lied. “Something important.”

Aaron hummed, nodding his head.

Thankfully, he let it go.

“Let’s recap a little bit. Just so we are all clear on where we stand,” Kabir

offered in a gentle voice.

He’d be getting a muffin tomorrow.

“Thank you, Kabir.” I gave him a bright smile.

To which he blushed and reciprocated with a wobbly one.

I heard an impatient exhale coming from across the room. Now, he would

not be getting a muffin tomorrow. Or ever.

“So,” Kabir finally said, “Jeff wanted to attend today’s meeting to tell

you personally, but you know how busy the schedule of a head of division is.

Lots of parallel appointments. He will forward you all the info you need

anyway, but I thought it would be a good idea to give you a heads-up before.”

I blinked. What the hell are we talking about? “Thank you again for that,

Kabir.”

“You are welcome, Lina.” He nodded. “I think that communication

between all five of us is key to accomplish—”

“Kabir”—Aaron’s voice filled the room—“your point.”

Kabir’s eyes jumped to him, and he appeared a little startled. “Yes,

thanks, Aaron.” Then, he had to clear his throat twice before he could

continue, “InTech will host an Open Day in a few weeks. A big group of

people will attend, mostly potential clients who are curious about what we

offer but also some of the biggest projects we are working on. Jeff mentioned

that all attendants are pretty high in management, too, which makes sense

because this is an initiative to expand and strengthen our network and to do it

face-to-face. He wants InTech to show off. To look good. Modern. To

demonstrate that we are up-to-date with the current markets. But at the same

time, show all prospective and current clients that we are not all about

working.” He chuckled nervously. “That’s why Open Day will last from eight

a.m., when the attendants will be welcomed here at our headquarters, until

midnight.”

“Midnight?” I murmured, barely able to conceal my surprise.

“Yes.” Kabir nodded enthusiastically. “Isn’t it refreshing? It will be a

full-blown event. All kinds of workshops on new technologies, knowledge

exchange sessions, activities to get to know our clients and their needs. And

of course, we’ll have breakfast, lunch, and dinner catered. Oh, and after-work

drinks too. You know, to lighten things up.”

My eyes had gradually widened as Kabir delivered his explanation.

“That …” Héctor started. “That sounds different.”

It did. And it sounded like a complex event to plan in only a few weeks.

“Yes,” Gerald answered, sounding suspiciously smug. “It will definitely

put InTech ahead in the game.”

Kabir nodded as his gaze met mine. “Absolutely. And Jeff wants you to

be in charge of everything, Lina. How amazing is that?”

I blinked, resting my back against the seat. “He wants me to organize it?

All of it?”

“Yes.” My colleague smiled at me, like he was giving me good news.

“And host it too. Out of the five of us, you are our most attractive option.”

Blinking very slowly, I watched his lips fall down, probably because of

the expression coating my face.

Attractive. Taking a deep breath, I tried to steady myself. “Well, I’m

flattered to be considered the most attractive option,” I lied, willing myself

not to focus on how my blood had started swirling. “But I hardly have the

time or the experience to organize something like this.”

“But Jeff insisted,” Kabir countered back. “And it’s important for InTech

to have someone like you representing the company.”

I should ask what someone like me was supposed to mean, but I didn’t

think I wanted to hear the answer. My throat dried up, making it harder for

me to swallow. “Wouldn’t any of us accomplish the same objective?

Shouldn’t someone with experience in what sounds like a public relations

affair throw together an event this important?”

Kabir deflected, not answering my question. “Jeff said you would be fine

with the organization. That we don’t need to spend extra resources, hiring

someone. Plus, you are …” He trailed off, looking like he’d rather be

anywhere else. “Social. Perky.”

Clenching my fist under the table, I tried my best to hide my inner

turmoil. “Sure,” I gritted out. That was every person’s dream, being referred

to as perky by their boss. “But I also have a job to do. I also have projects that

I’m working on the clock for. How is this … event more important than my

own clients and current responsibilities?”

I remained silent for a long moment, waiting for my colleagues’ support.

Any kind of support.

And … nothing, just the usual loaded silence that followed these kinds of

situations.

I shifted in my chair, feeling my cheeks heat up with frustration. “Kabir,”

I said as calmly as I could, “I know Jeff might have suggested that I be in

charge of this, but you guys understand that this doesn’t even make sense,

right? I … wouldn’t even know where to start.” This wasn’t a thing I had

been hired or was paid for.

But no one was going to admit that, even when their support would make

a difference. That would lead to the real reason why I had been given this

task. “I’m already covering for two of my best team members, Linda and

Patricia. I don’t have hours in the week as it is.” I hated complaining and

fishing for some—or at this point, any—kind of understanding, but what else

could I do?

Gerald snorted, making my head swivel in his direction. “Well, that’s a

drawback of hiring women in their thirties.”

I scoffed, not wanting to believe that he had just said that. But he had. I

opened my mouth, but Héctor stopped me from saying anything.

“All right, how about we all help you?” Héctor suggested. I looked at

him, finding him with a resigned expression. “We could maybe all pitch in

with something.”

I loved the man, but his soft heart and lack of confrontational spirit

weren’t helping all that much. He was only tiptoeing around the real issue.

“This is not high school, Héctor,” Gerald snapped back. “We are

professionals, and we won’t be pitching in with anything.” Shaking his

greasy, bald head, he followed that with another snort.

Héctor’s mouth clamped shut.

Kabir spoke again, “I’ll forward you the list of people Jeff put together,

Lina.”

I shook my head again, feeling my cheeks heat up further, biting my

tongue so I wouldn’t tell my colleague something I’d regret.

“Oh,” Kabir added, “Jeff also had a few ideas for the catering. That’s in a

separate email that I will forward to you too. But he wants you to do a little

research on that. Maybe even think of a theme. He said you’d know what to

do.”

My lips parted with a silent curse word that would make my abuela take

me to church by the ear. I’d know what to do? How would I know?

Reaching for my pen and holding it with both hands so I could squeeze

some of the growing frustration away, I took a deep breath. “I’m going to talk

to Jeff myself,” I said through pressed teeth that formed a tight smile. “I’d

usually not bother him but—”

“Would you just stop wasting our time already?” Gerald said, making the

blood in my face drop to my feet. “You don’t have to take this to our boss.”

Gerald’s chubby finger waved through the air. “Stop making excuses and just

do it. You can smile and be extra friendly for a whole day, can’t you?”

The words extra and friendly echoed in my head as I stared at him with

wide eyes.

The sweaty man, crammed into a dress shirt designed for someone who

had a class he’d never achieve, would take any chance he could get to bring

anyone down. Even more so if that happened to be a woman. I knew.