Chapter Five
908 Words
Maria
I should have been thinking about my wedding.
Instead…
I was thinking about the way Alejandro had fastened my earring without making my heart feel like something he was trying to win.
That was the dangerous part.
He wasn’t trying.
The office was unusually quiet when I returned.
Most of my team had already gone home, leaving only Sophie sitting cross-legged on my desk, eating crisps straight from the bag.
She looked up the second she saw me.
“There she is.”
I dropped my handbag onto my chair.
“I’m exhausted.”
“Liar.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“You’re smiling.”
“I am not.”
“You are.”
She narrowed her eyes dramatically.
“And it’s not your ‘successful presentation’ smile.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Don’t start.”
“Oh, I’m definitely starting.”
She stood, brushing crumbs from her trousers.
“Tell me about Mr. Lopez.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Mmm.”
“We discussed branding.”
“You discussed branding for two hours?”
“It was work.”
She folded her arms.
“So why are you blushing?”
“I’m not blushing.”
“You are now.”
I laughed despite myself.
“He’s… different.”
“Different good?”
I hesitated.
“He listens.”
Sophie said nothing.
She didn’t have to.
Because we both knew why that mattered.
…
By the time I reached home, it was almost nine.
The apartment was silent.
Daniel still wasn’t back.
A takeaway bag sat on the kitchen counter with a note beside it.
Sorry I missed dinner again. Heat this up. Love you.
I stared at the note for a long moment.
Eleven years together.
When had handwritten apologies become our love language?
I changed into one of Daniel’s oversized T-shirts before heating the pasta.
Halfway through dinner, my phone buzzed.
Daniel.
“Hey.”
“Did you get home okay?”
“I did.”
“I’m sorry about the cake tasting.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not.”
“No.”
I twirled pasta around my fork.
“It isn’t.”
He sighed.
“I’ve booked Saturday.”
“For what?”
“A whole day.”
I smiled faintly.
“You booked me into your calendar?”
“You make it sound terrible.”
“It is a little.”
He laughed.
“I miss you.”
“I live with you.”
“I know.”
Another silence.
“I’ll be home late.”
“Okay.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
When the call ended, I realised something that made my stomach tighten.
Not once…
Had he asked how my day was.
…
Friday arrived with blue skies and a packed schedule.
I was reviewing fabric samples when my assistant knocked.
“Maria?”
“Come in.”
She stepped inside holding a cream envelope.
“This was delivered by hand.”
“No stamp?”
She shook her head.
“It was addressed to you.”
Curious, I opened it.
Inside was a single invitation.
Private Preview Dinner
Barcelona Project
Hosted by Alejandro Lopez
Friday | 7:30 PM
Attendance Requested
There was no signature.
No handwritten note.
Just one sentence at the bottom.
Your ideas deserve a proper conversation.
Sophie appeared in my doorway as though she’d sensed gossip from three floors away.
“What have you got there?”
I handed her the invitation.
She read it once.
Then again.
Her eyes slowly lifted to mine.
“Oh…”
“What?”
“This isn’t a board meeting.”
“I know.”
“This is dinner.”
“It’s a project dinner.”
She gave me a look.
“It’s dinner.”
I sighed.
“I can’t go.”
“Why not?”
“I’m engaged.”
“So?”
“So…”
I gestured helplessly.
“It feels wrong.”
“Does it?”
“Yes.”
She walked over and sat on the edge of my desk.
“Maria.”
Her voice softened.
“If your fiancé invited another woman to dinner, would you like it?”
“No.”
“Then don’t go.”
I nodded immediately.
“You’re right.”
It was that simple.
I picked up my phone and typed a polite email.
Dear Mr. Lopez,
Thank you for your kind invitation. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to attend this evening. I hope the dinner goes well and I look forward to our next project meeting.
I read it twice.
Then pressed Send.
A strange heaviness settled in my chest.
As though I’d just closed a door I hadn’t realised I wanted to leave open.
Five minutes later…
My inbox chimed.
A reply.
Just one line.
I respect your decision, María. But for the record… it was never meant to be just the two of us.
I frowned.
Before I could make sense of it, Sophie looked over my shoulder.
“Oh.”
“What?”
She pointed through the glass wall of my office.
I followed her gaze.
The entire Barcelona project team was standing in reception.
Laughing.
Holding the exact same cream invitation.
Including my boss.
Heat rushed to my cheeks.
I had just declined a team dinner…
Because I’d assumed it was a date.
And somewhere in the city…
Alejandro Lopez had just read my email.
- Writer
