Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84181 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84181 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
We both sit in a thick, uncomfortable silence, her staring at me, me staring at her.
“He can’t love me,” I tell her. “He shouldn’t love me.”
“Well you know what?” Her tone is rhetoric as she stands up. “He does. I’m sure he wishes he didn’t, but he does. If there is one thing I know, it’s that you can’t fight love. You can’t ignore it. You can try, but it won’t work. It will only make you think about the person even more.” She walks past the second recliner, into the aisle. Her eyes don’t meet mine when she says, “We’ll be landing soon.”
She says that, and not even thirty minutes later I spot palm trees and, beyond them, a crystal clear blue ocean. Emilio returns and tells me to buckle back in. I do so, and the jet lands in a matter of minutes.
Emilio stands, reaching up to the bin across the aisle and taking down the black suitcases. When he has the handles clutched in hand, he asks me to follow him out. I follow behind him just as Patanza appears.
I notice, before I get off, that her eyes are red around the rims and puffy. She has a hat on now to shield her eyes, and immediately puts on a pair of sunglasses before getting off the jet, but I notice.
I don’t bother trying to comfort her. Instead, I follow Emilio down the stairs to the sleek, white Mercedes parked ahead. There is a driver standing beside the car. When he spots us, he opens the back door right away.
“Go ahead and get in the car, Patrona,” Emilio says over his shoulder, heading for the trunk. I climb into the backseat, and Patanza gets in behind me, avoiding my eyes.
Emilio is in the passenger seat, and the driver climbs in, smelling of way too much cologne. He pulls off when Emilio’s door is closed, driving down a long, winding road.
I have no idea where we are until we reach the end of a road and a street sign appears.
Los Cabos.
We’re in Cabos?
I look over at Patanza. She finally looks at me, pressing her lips thin. The drive continues for nearly fifteen minutes before we’re pulling into a residential area.
There is a home here, much smaller than Draco’s mansion, but still beautiful nonetheless.
It’s a wide, two-story home, made of white stucco, the shingles on the roof a bold, muddy orange. We park and step out, Emilio leading the way to the door with a set of keys. He unlocks it and lets me right in.
I step onto waxed white marble, and the scent of cinnamon and sea-salt hits me. I hear gulls calling and walk past the den and through the living room set up with plush, clean furniture. Every surface is clear of dust and lint.
Ahead of me are two open glass doors, with a deck overlooking the sea. I meet at the doors and the wind pushes my hair back, soothing my sweat-dampened skin. Down the steps is an infinity pool with not a trace or speck of dirt inside it. It’s sapphire blue, clear, rippling, just like the ocean that’s not too far beyond it. There is even a bar set up inside the pool.
It’s marvelous, and for a second I have to admit that this home is much more beautiful than his mansion. Unlike the mansion, this home has many windows, allowing the sun to stream through, highlighting the tables and white, L-shaped sofa. Unlike the mansion, this place is homey and somehow it feels secure.
Quaint.
Simple.
Comfortable.
“If you like it out here, you should see the master bedroom,” Emilio says, popping up beside me. I put on a light smile for him, turning and following him to the bedroom. Patanza is nowhere in sight now.
Emilio walks down a long hallway and then turns for the second to last door on the right. I’m in awe of the bedroom as soon as the door swings open and he places the suitcases down on the floor.
It’s massive, with a private terrace over looking the ocean too.
I take a step closer, spotting a hot tub outside the terrace, a tray set up there with bread, fruits, and even a bottle of merlot. The bed is a California king, swathed in puffy white bedding and brown pillows, a thick white headboard matching the sheets.
“I know it’s only two in the afternoon, but the fruit and merlot is for you. Please let me know if there is anything else I can get you, Patrona. The kitchen is fully stocked and there is even a bar in this home and by the pool. You can call me, or you can go out and help yourself to anything.” Emilio takes a step back. “You probably want to be left alone, so I will go to my room and let you settle in.” He picks up a black device on the TV stand. “Press the green button on here when you need me.”