Falling for the wrong memory

Mateo’s POV

The ice clinks in my glass as I swirl it for the umpteenth time. I am not interested in the sound or the taste of the drink. I just need to do something with my hands. The bartender has made himself scarce, probably sensing that I am in a terrible mood.

My best friend, Oliver, slides into the booth next to me after about fifteen minutes of waiting. He has a grin on his face, always tossing out an apology. He is the only person in the world I will let myself wait for.

And these days, he seems to be pushing it too far.

“I was scared I would have to meet you again in your office today,” he says, stretching out a hand to wave the bartender over. “For you to have met me here, it must be important. Did you grow bored staring at your spreadsheets?”

Oliver is a corporate lawyer who used to be in military intelligence before he decided to start his own practice. Right now, he uses his skills to catch wives cheating on their husbands or the other way around, depending on who is requesting his private detective services.

“I offered someone the contract today,” I say in a flat tone, just as the bartender walks over. Oliver doesn’t respond until he has been served his usual glass of bourbon.

“One of the others?”

I shake my head.

“The dancer, then.”

Oliver’s observation skills should be studied.

“Her name is Blythe.”

“She’s the same person I requested for you the other night. The best in the club.”

I down the remaining content of my glass, letting the liquid sting. “She no longer works there.”

“That fast, uhn,” my best friend murmurs, nodding slowly. “But what changed? You have been on this for over six months now, with more than fifty applications on your desk.”

I shrug. “I guess I just wanted to be done with it.”

But Oliver isn’t fooled. He narrows his eyes in my direction. “What is this about, Mateo Brent?”

“It’s Blythe,” I sigh, leaning back into the booth. “She reminds me of someone.”

He raises a brow. “Who?”

“Rina.”

Oliver stills, and the air between us suddenly changes. It has been two years since I said that name last, yet its effect never eludes us. The silence that overtakes isn't deafening. Instead, it dredges up memories from the past.

And then, he rips through the quiet. “That’s not funny, Mateo. Don’t do it again.”

“It’s true.” I reach for his glass. “She has her eyes, those hazel that you can never tell the real color until you are standing so close. And the way she moves her hands when scribbling…”

Oliver shakes his head. His awkward chuckle follows next. "You just miss her, and there's nothing wrong with that. I was scared that you had been bottling up what happened two years ago because you never speak of it. But this…"

"I'm not saying Blythe is Rina. That would be impossible." I feel a migraine coming. "Tansy confirmed it. Rina is dead. She has been gone for two years now. All that blood, the car…"

"Exactly," Oliver mutters, looking dead into my eyes. "Tansy saw it happen. She was shaken, and we grieved together. You tried all you could, but there was nothing left to do. Rina is dead."

"I know." I blow out a stream of breath and close my eyes, opening them a minute later. "But Blythe…There is something about her that I just can't place. I interviewed over fifty women in the last six months, but I didn't hand the contract over to them. And then, Blythe, that had no clue about its existence…"

“Maybe you have a crush on her.”

I shoot Oliver a look, and his hands fly up in the air in mock surrender.

“I mean, think about it. You never talk about any woman this way. Not since Tansy took…”

“Don’t even make me think about it,” I growl. “And I don’t have a crush on my surrogate.”

“Isn’t it too early to call her that? She hasn’t even taken a pregnancy test.”

“It will come back positive when she does.” I s**t in my seat. “It has to.”

“Mateo,” my best friend begins, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“I know!” I snap. “She isn’t Rina. I’m going to let it go. But still…her file said she dropped out of college two years ago, but no one seems to know what she was doing before then. Doesn’t that sound too…”

Oliver looks at me like he’s waiting for something more compelling.

“She just signed the contract, accepting all the terms there.”

“Maybe she’s just like every other girl,” Oliver murmurs, shrugging. “If I were a lady and you were paying me that much, I wouldn’t mind that you are paying me to be your baby incubator under chains. I would gladly accept.”

"That isn't the exact description. I am paying for hr medicals, diet, prenatal session…I call that being financially free."

He looks at me and then bursts out laughing. "Sometimes, I wonder if you were hit in the head as a child."

“Careful, Oliver.”

“Did you still include the no s*x rule?” he continues, ignoring my warning.

I nod.

“Are you sure that’s something you are willing to keep in there?”

I stop myself from tossing the glass at him.

"This is the last time I will say this, Oliver, so you better not bring it up again. I have no feelings for Blythe. She is just my surrogate, and the moment the baby is born, the contract will cease to exist, and we can both go our separate ways."

Oliver regards me as if he doesn't believe a word I just said.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “Keep telling yourself that.”

As the quiet settles in, the whispers return, and I find myself going down that dark hole. What if it is her? What if I have invited Rina back into my life without even knowing it?