MY SECRET BOSS

2

I arrived at the restaurant, all glamorous, showing off my beautiful dress - which even made me look a little sexier - I don't like my legs very much, but they looked good in the dress. Not to mention the beautiful bracelet and earrings that were a sure bet. No wonder it's been in my family for three generations. The restaurant is elegant to the extreme, I love this place, to get a reservation here, you need to book in advance; and I was very surprised by the place chosen for the meeting, of course I didn't expect a hot dog stand, but I did expect it to be in the company, formally. As soon as I walk in the door, a gray-haired man in a suit greets me.

- Miss. - He bows slightly, an unnecessary gesture.

- Angelina Velasco. I have a reservation, in the name of Lucas Amarante. He nods and gives a glimpse of a smile.

- Would you prefer to have a drink at the bar while you wait or would you like to get settled at your table?

- The table, please.

- May I have your coat? - Hold out your hand.

- Please. - I let him help me take off my luxurious coat, he waves to a very pretty young redhead and she approaches, parading down an imaginary catwalk.

- Tina, take Miss Velasco to Mr. Lucas Amarante's table. The young woman nods and looks at me smiling.

- Please follow me. - I follow her and settle down at a great table. Where I can see half the people. Here, I have a privileged but discreet view. I can see who comes to the door.

- Wine list? - She asks.

- I'll wait for my date.

- As you wish. - She nods slightly and walks off in her beautiful heels. I need someone like that, so slender, to model for Madde's new Supreme campaign. This new campaign marks a new stage for Mademoiselle. The new boss is investing heavily in the party, the fashion show and the promotion of the new models, which I have been left to design. Despite everything, it's great to see someone doing so much to lift up the company I love so much.

I run my hand over my lap, smoothing my dress, open my bag, check the time, and notice that my mystery date is ten minutes late. I look at my lips in a mirror, adjust my bracelet, wait a little longer and another five minutes pass. With my head down most of the time, I raise my face to ask for at least one wine. And then I lose all feeling in my body. I'm immobile, paralyzed. Stunned. Almost fainting, when I see who is at the table next to me. Like a painful sledgehammer, all the memories of my past stab me without pity.

- Lorenzo! - I think the name escaped my lips. Very quietly. He didn't see me. Or he did and didn't seem to care. He's accompanied by a beautiful woman. And I know her, she's Carmen Silvério, a fashion critic and journalist. And that shouldn't even mess up the systole and diastole of my heart, making it leap madly. Would you like an example? Think of that wonderful couple that you love forever in some book, series or soap opera. And then, out of the blue, the good guy decides to take up with someone else. It hurts, doesn't it? Triple that agony, that's what I'm feeling.

My throat feels so tight that my face burns. As if someone was hanging me. I've run away from Lorenzo so much... from seeing him in magazines, on TV, in everything. I haven't seen him this close since that day... The day we almost got married. I bring my hand up to my neck and firmly grasp my pendant, which I've been wearing since I was fifteen. Lorenzo has just bent down and kissed the blonde's lips; I've simply become a statue.

He strokes her cheek, kisses her more and smiles at her, a smile... in love. I decide not to look anymore. I lower my face and stare at the embroidery on the tablecloth.

I lost him... because of me. All my fault. Damn, he looks so beautiful. He looks so happy. And me... staying half alive, all these years. Time drags on, and my neck hurts as I remain in the same position, head down. I see someone approaching and I look up. It's a waiter.

- Would you like something to drink?

- Ah...! Yes. - My mouth feels like it's full of flour. Drier than the desert. - Can I have a juice... er... orange, without sugar and with ice?

- Of course. - He nods and when I turn my gaze back to the table, Lorenzo is staring at me: dark eyes, closed lips. I turn to dust instantly. Not literally, of course. But his gaze practically disintegrates me. There's nothing in his eyes. No fright, no surprise, no hatred. Nothing at all. He just looks at me, indifferent. If only he hated me...

I hold his gaze. I want to get up and go over there, and maybe open my mouth and talk and talk endlessly. But then he turns back to Carmen and smiles at her, leans in once more and kisses her. I lose my breath and go back to staring at the embroidery on the table. Time passes unhurriedly, their dinner arrives. I'm alone for thirty minutes. I try to text Lucas, but he doesn't answer. I'm completely humiliated, ashamed, alone here, without even a glass of water in front of me. The waiter must have gone to plant the oranges for the juice.

Everyone's staring at me, I can feel them staring at me, but I don't care. Worst of all, Lorenzo is there, looking at me and possibly feeling sorry for me. And of course, Carmen, who loves to find fault with Madde and write analytical texts on her blog. My juice arrives, I take a sip and breathe slowly. Forty-five minutes into the wait, the young red-haired waitress comes up to me and speaks softly, with a frown on her face, her face full of pity.

- Angelina Velasco?

- Yes.

- Your date has just called the restaurant to tell you that he won't be able to make it. - He... - she swallows. - He's letting you go.

I hold the glass tightly with a tear. We don't only cry out of pain, or anger, or joy. Shame is a very bad thing. Especially when there's someone... him, Lorenzo, right there, watching everything. I nod, stand up, pick up my bag and try to walk as straight as possible.

- Hey... Angelina. - The waitress calls out to me and I stop in the middle of the restaurant. I turn around and try to smile at her.

- Hello?

- The bill... - she says a little awkwardly. I almost collapse on the floor and stand there playing dead. I avoid looking around. Angelina Velasco trying to leave without paying? I go back to the table, my hands shaking, and open my purse. I don't have any money or cards. I came for dinner and swore someone would pay the bill.

- Listen, can you send the bill to Mademoiselle? Send it in my name, I don't have a card.

- Of course. - She hands me the note for the juice I drank. - Please sign here. - Trembling, I sign my name, nod at her and walk away. I try, I swear I try, to pass arrogantly by Lorenzo's table. But it didn't work. I looked over and he just looked away, returning his attention to the woman accompanying him for the evening. He simply ignored me.

I grabbed my coat and left, almost bewildered.

- Please get my car. - I ask the valet. He nods and drives off. I stand on the sidewalk, inert, hugging my body because of the cold. A tear starts to fall from my eye, I wipe it away quickly, take a deep breath and just then, strong hands grab me. I don't even have time to think. They're two masked men. I don't even have time to scream.

- Give me everything, lady! - One of them speaks and points something at me. A gun.

Desperate, terribly terrified, I hand him the bag. The other man grabs my hand and with superhuman strength rips off my bracelet, causing my wrist to twist. I give a thin scream and then I'm pushed and fall on my butt. And then I release all the tears I've been holding inside the restaurant.