Chapter Eight
951 Words
Alejandro
I had built hotels in twelve countries.
Negotiated deals worth hundreds of millions.
Walked away from contracts when my instincts told me something wasn’t right.
Yet somehow…
One woman had me looking forward to Monday mornings.
It was ridiculous.
And Javier wasn’t about to let me forget it.
“You smiled.”
I looked up from the report in front of me.
“I beg your pardon?”
“When Maria walked into the meeting.”
“I smile at everyone.”
“No.”
He sipped his espresso with infuriating confidence.
“You smiled before she even saw you.”
I ignored him.
“Are the Barcelona projections ready?”
“They are.”
He didn’t move.
“You’re avoiding the subject.”
“There isn’t one.”
“You’ve never invited an agency director to sit beside you at dinner.”
“I invited the whole team.”
“You placed her beside you.”
I sighed.
“It made business sense.”
He laughed.
“If that helps you sleep.”
A knock interrupted us.
“Come in.”
Maria stepped inside carrying a folder against her chest.
She looked between Javier and me.
“I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“Not at all,” I said.
Javier stood immediately.
“I was just leaving.”
As he passed me, he leaned down and murmured in Spanish.
“Buena suerte.”
Good luck.
I resisted the urge to glare at him.
Maria raised an eyebrow.
“What did he say?”
“Nothing important.”
She smiled.
“I don’t believe you.”
“You shouldn’t.”
That earned me a laugh.
I liked the sound of it more than I should have.
“What’s in the folder?” I asked.
“The revised concepts.”
She handed it to me, our fingers brushing for the briefest second.
“I made a few changes after Friday.”
I flipped through the pages.
“They’re better.”
“You’ve only looked at the first one.”
“I know quality when I see it.”
She folded her arms.
“That’s a very biased opinion.”
“It is.”
I looked up.
“But I’m still right.”
She shook her head, trying—and failing—not to smile.
“I should stop accepting compliments from you.”
“Why?”
“They’re becoming a habit.”
“Only because you keep giving me reasons.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
The silence wasn’t uncomfortable.
It was… aware.
Maria was the first to look away.
“I’ve also brought the venue shortlist for Barcelona.”
“Perfect.”
I motioned towards the small seating area near the windows.
“Let’s have a look.”
She joined me on the sofa, placing photographs across the coffee table.
“This one overlooks the marina.”
I studied the image.
“Beautiful.”
“It has one problem.”
“The ballroom?”
She blinked.
“How did you know?”
“I noticed your expression.”
She laughed softly.
“I really need to stop being surprised by that.”
“By what?”
“How much you notice.”
I held her gaze.
“It’s difficult not to notice someone who’s passionate about what they do.”
A faint blush coloured her cheeks.
Before she could answer, her phone lit up on the table.
Daniel ❤️
She hesitated before answering.
“Hi.”
I stood.
“I’ll give you some privacy.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I insist.”
I walked towards the windows, looking out over the city.
I wasn’t trying to overhear.
But the office was quiet.
“…Wednesday?”
A pause.
“No, that’s okay.”
Another pause.
“I understand.”
Her voice grew softer.
“We’ll celebrate another time.”
When the call ended, I turned.
She was staring at the blank screen of her phone.
“You look disappointed.”
She forced a smile.
“Today’s our engagement anniversary.”
The words landed harder than I expected.
“He forgot?”
She nodded once.
“He remembered… after his assistant reminded him.”
Silence settled between us.
She laughed quietly, but there wasn’t any humour in it.
“Do you know what’s embarrassing?”
“What?”
“I actually lowered my expectations years ago.”
She looked at me, her eyes glistening.
“And somehow…”
“…he still manages to disappoint me.”
I took one slow step towards her.
Then stopped.
Every instinct told me to pull her into my arms.
Instead, I kept a respectful distance.
“Maria.”
She looked up.
“You deserve to be remembered without someone needing to set a reminder.”
Her breath caught.
For one suspended moment, the room disappeared.
There was only her.
Only the sadness in her eyes.
And the overwhelming urge to erase it.
A knock broke the silence.
“Mr. Lopez?”
His assistant opened the door slightly.
“Your car is waiting.”
I didn’t look away from Maria.
“I’ll be down in a minute.”
The door closed again.
Maria slipped her phone into her handbag.
“I should go.”
I nodded.
“So should I.”
She walked to the door before pausing.
“Alejandro?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you…”
She smiled sadly.
“…for making me feel like I matter.”
Before I could answer, she was gone.
I stood there for a long time after the door closed.
Because I knew one thing with absolute certainty.
The line between professional and personal had just become much harder to see.
- Writer
