8. Ariella
Chapter 8
Ariella
I was prepared to walk into my first aerobics class with only the two people who had signed up. It was a complete surprise when I showed up and found eight women waiting outside the studio doors.
“Good morning. I’m Ariella, your instructor.” I greet the women in line.
The elation in my body becomes my energy source, and I push down all my nerves.
Eight people had faith in me, and that was more than enough. I put the headset on and start the playlist.
“Welcome to Body Jam! Today’s class will combine High-intensity interval training, dance and strength training. Take your time and listen to your body! You got this!” I cheer.
My enthusiasm is a facade because deep down, I want to scream. The elation I felt seconds ago is now a full-blown panic attack. While most people have a W.W.J.D. type of mantra, I have a W.W.T.D. mantra. What would Thalia do?
She’d own this bitch. I roll my shoulders back and call in that energy before facing the class again. The music starts, and I lead the class through the first song and warmups.
The energy in the room is radiating. All the women keep up, and I stop to show modifications for those struggling. One of the girls looks familiar. She’s wearing a long graphic tee that says, ‘Call your momma’ on the front, and when she turns, I read the back that says, ‘I’ll rock her ass too.’
I let out a small laugh. The more I look at the girl, the more I recognize her as one of the new front desk girls. She works the night shift. I remember seeing her the few times I stayed at work late.
The forty-five-minute class ends, and I feel more than accomplished. I actually did it! I led an amazing class and didn’t freeze up or completely embarrass myself. Several women thank me at the end of the class, and that was more than enough encouragement. Their smiles were the reason I was here. I wanted women to feel confident and sexy in their own skin and to love exercise as much as I do.
I grab my gym bag and rush after the girl from the front desk.
“Hey, wait up!” I shout, and she turns around.
“You really kept up with me in there! Thanks for coming!” I exclaim.
“Ya! That playlist was dope! I’m Cooper,” she replies, sticking out her hand.
“I’m Ariella, or Ari for short. You work at the front desk, right?”
“Yeah. I see you sometimes with the little dog and your boyfriend leaving the office.”
“Oh, no. That’s not my boyfriend. That’s my bodyguard.” I laugh nervously.
“Oh, damn, I thought that was your man,” she says, walking with me to the main lobby.
All these words cause a wave of embarrassment to wash over me.
My boyfriend.
My man.
“That’s funny. He’s like way older than me.” I reply.
“Girl, age is just a number. Plus, bodyguard or not, that man stays looking at you like he’ll kill anyone who even sneezes in your direction.”
“Oh. Well, that’s his job. I’m as single as a pringle here.” I rhyme and immediately want to punch myself.
“Good for you. I’m single, too. Men’s personalities are literally the only birth control I need.” She jokes.
I instantly decide I like Cooper. She’s one of those people that I tend to gravitate towards. We’re both extroverts, but I was an introverted extrovert. I wanted to be around people cause I didn’t want to be lonely. But I could only handle so many people at once.
Cooper, I’m learning quickly, is more blunt than I am. One of those super extroverts. In retrospect, I’m like the jalapeno lime Cheetos, and she’s the flaming hot Cheetos.
On our way to the main lobby, Cooper tells me everything about herself. I make a quick mental list so I don’t forget any details.
Cooper Calvo
Half Haitian, half Dominican, but as she stated, a hundred percent Texan.
She is going to school at the University of Houston, where she is studying Political science.
Most of her schooling was paid for, but her living expenses were not, which is why she works here at night.
Aries sun, Gemini moon, and Leo rising. Whatever that means.
She rants like me when she’s passionate about something like why men get to vote about women’s bodies.
I’m making the list as fast as possible to keep up with her rambling when she stops abruptly in front of the lobby elevator. Nero is standing with Jasper and another man I don’t recognize. When he sees me, his eyes zoom in on me, and he stalks toward me.
“Where the hell were you?” he growls.
“See what I mean, 100% most effective birth control. I’ll catch you later. Oh, and that is adorable.” Cooper says, pointing to Guapo in the pink sling around Nero’s torso.
She leaves, and I can’t help but giggle.
“It’s the only way I could get him out of the house,” Nero grumbles.
“Muy Valiente,” I say, leaning down to kiss Guapo’s head.
“Where were you, Ariella?”
“I told you I had a class this morning.” I cross my arms and watch as his scowl turns to realization.
“Shit. I forgot. Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I’m pretty sure your job description doesn’t include aerobics. Plus, it’s your day off.” I shrug.
I’m not sure why he’s making a fuss. He goes to reply but then looks back at Jasper and the other guy. He removes the sling and hands me Guapo. I cuddle him like a little baby, and he licks my cheek.
“Mi amor. Did you miss me?” I say, smothering him with kisses.
Some people were really annoying the way they treated their animals like their children.
Hi, it’s me, I’m people.
“Pobrecito mi baby. Did Mr. Big Scary Man try hurting you?” I say just in time for Nero to hear as he makes his way back to us. He rolls his eyes, but I laugh at my own joke.
“How was the class?” He asks.
“It was good. People actually showed up.” I say.
“I knew they would.” He says before flashing me a quick smile.
It stops me in my tracks because Nero, whatever the fuck his last name is, does not smile. Not like this. This is a rare, never-seen-before smile. My heart does a whole backflip in response because it’s sexy as hell.
It’s not his fake smile, the smug smile, or the cocky smile. No, this one is different. This smile reaches his eyes. The same eyes that lighten in response while a dimple I had no idea existed appears on his left cheek. I swear some child choir starts singing amazing grace in the background. It’s a quick flash of joy, and it’s gone as soon as it appeared.
We stand there staring at each other before he breaks eye contact when he sees something behind me. Before I can turn around to see what brought back his cold, stoic glare, he whips me around and pulls me toward Tres Coronas.
“Nero! What are you doing?”
“Don’t you want to get breakfast?” he asks, still pushing me forward.
The hostess greets us, and I ask for my usual booth. I wasn’t used to coming in when there was a big rush like Sunday Brunch.
I slump into the empty booth, and Nero slides in across from me. Tres Coronas only serves breakfast on the weekends, so I was excited when he suggested we eat here—or, more accurately, forced me in. But it’s whatever. I never say no to food.
Looking at the Kitchen, I search for my Tia Olivia.
Axel, Adan, and I spent every summer at my grandparents’ house. They spent most of the days with Thalia fighting each other WWE-style on the trampoline. It’d start out friendly, but someone was always crying by the end. You didn’t hear this from me, but it was usually Axel after Thalia and Adan ganged up on him.
Anyways, since I wasn’t into all the violence, I spent most of my time with my Abuela and Olivia. It’s where my love for cooking came from. The smells of the kitchen and the love my abuela put into making a meal. I missed her so much. Cooking was how I kept her memory alive.
“What’s the special?” I ask the waitress.
“Chorizo Eggs Benedict in a chipotle hollandaise sauce.” She reads off her notepad.
“Oooh, that sounds fancy. I’ll take it. And a watermelon mimosa, please. Oh, and a side of churro pancakes, too, please.”
“Y para usted?” she says, her eyes brightening at Nero.
I hated the way women ogled over him in public. Also, why didn’t she ask me for my order in Spanish? Never mind, I don’t know how to say eggs benedict in Spanish.
Nero orders country-fried steak and a black coffee for himself.
“Black like his soul,” I whisper to Guapo.
“Really?” Nero replies, his brow arched.
I smile and shrug. I’ve grown more comfortable with Nero over the last few weeks. It was easy to be myself around him. He seems to enjoy my company and laugh at my jokes. However, I am also delulu as fuck, so if he is annoyed, he’ll have to make it more obvious than he is.
“So, when do you plan on apologizing to me?” I ask, feeling a little braver than usual, thanks to the mimosa.
We hadn’t spoken to each other since he found me at Alfonso’s.
“And what would I be apologizing for?” the smug smile is back, but I don’t back down from the challenge.
“For yesterday, that wasn’t very gentlemen-like,” I say, earning me a sinister laugh from him.
“I’m not apologizing for shit.”
The waitress interrupts our stare down and sets down some napkins and utensils, but not before she flashes him a smile. I roll my eyes at the way she acts like I’m not there. I look at her name tag.
“Muchas Gracias Estephanie.” I say.
She finally looks at me and smiles before walking away. The side of Nero’s mouth slightly twists up before he covers it with his cup of coffee. God, he could be aggravating at times.
“Anyways, I do think you owe me an apology.” I continue.
“You put yourself in danger. I saved you. If anything, you owe me a thank you.” He says matter of factly.
“A thank you? I am an adult, not some damsel in distress. Also, how the hell did you even know I was there?” I retort.
Which is my real concern. I didn’t put it past Axel to pay someone to stalk my every move. Nero’s face is horrific when he stares back at me. His voice lowers, and he leans over the table.
“You will not be returning to that neighborhood, princess. Is that clear?”
The whole restaurant disappears, and I force down a nervous swallow. Holy shit, he’s hot when he’s mad. When I don’t reply, he growls again.
“Do you understand me, Ariella? You will not put yourself in danger like that.”
I nod my head.
“What do you say?”
“Yes, Sir,” I say, but not without noticing the wicked smile that forms on his face.
“Can we just not tell Axel about this?” I plead with him.
“I won’t tell Axel if you tell me why you were letting some weirdo take pictures of your feet instead of just paying a qualified groomer.”
“Well. For starters, if you must know, I’m broke.” I whisper yell across the table.
His brows arch, and his eyes zoom in on my pink Louis Vuitton bag. I let out a huff and check my surroundings to make sure no one can hear me.
“If you must know, Sir, I have a bit more extravagant taste than the average girl. I have a small budget to work with since your boss, my brother, had my parents cut me off from my trust fund. Half of my paycheck goes into a savings account just so I don’t have to rely on a fucking man in the near future!”
I’m still whisper yelling. A step away from fully going off on Nero and another step away from standing up and declaring my war on the patriarchy. I hate men!
How dare anyone fucking judge me? How dare Nero judge me? He wasn’t born into this fucking male-dominated world with a vagina. Even Thalia, in all her strength and rise to the top, had to earn her respect among men, and that was rare. I was a pawn in their games.
“I’m sure you’re well aware that my parents are arranging a wedding for me,” I say instead of the fuck the patriarchy speech.
It’s not a question but I wait for him to answer. It was no surprise to the outside world who I was. I avoid going outside because every time I turn around someone is trying to capture a false story about me for their gossip blogs.
“I do,” he replies.
“Well, not that you care, but I’m sad about it. I wasn’t able to go to school for what I wanted, I won’t be able to choose my husband, and I probably won’t have a say in how my future children are raised, so...” I take a deep breath, hoping I don’t cry like a psycho in my family’s establishment.
“So, I am saving up money to have for myself.”
I won’t elaborate on why, but the sympathy that flashes in his eyes tells me I don’t need to.
I look down at my chipped nails. God, I need a fill. By no means was I broke, but when you live your whole life more fortunate than others, you become accustomed to it. To just be cut off was a hard adjustment. That was the biggest problem with my family giving me everything. My parents had set me up to fail.
I didn’t even fully understand the concept of how money worked because I didn’t ever have to pay for anything.
The saddest part of this story is that my parents didn’t even cut me off in attempts to teach me to be humble or learn to budget. No. Axel cut me off because it was his way of controlling me, bending me to his will.
He thought he could break me, but the jokes on him because I was testing myself and learning how to budget. I knew I could learn to live with less. I was willing to do so for the sake of freedom.
Estephania returns with our plates, and thankfully, the conversation dies there. Nero doesn’t ask a million questions because as much as I love asking other people questions, I hate answering them.
I watch as Nero places a napkin in his lap and begins to cut into his country-fried steak. Something about a man who could showcase his manners was sexy to me.
There were many things that Nero did that I found attractive. Besides his exquisite body, I always noticed little things, like him opening the door for me, placing a blanket on me, and pretending to drink my smoothies, even though I know he throws them down the drain the moment I leave the room.
I look down at the eggs benedict, and my mouth waters. When I take a bite, there’s an explosion of flavors in my mouth.
“Oh my god. This tastes like heaven!” I exclaim.
The fucking hollandaise sauce is better than anything I’ve ever had. I cut a small piece of the egg and slather it into the sauce.
“Here, try it.” I hold the fork out, and his eyes lock in on me.
He looks around us and hesitates for a moment before grabbing the fork from me and taking a bite. Then, he nods in approval and hands me the fork back.
“It’s good, right?” I ask.
Nero nods and returns to his steak. Halfway through the plate, I look up to see my Aunt Olivia approaching the table.
“Hi, Mija! I thought that was you. Hi, Nero. “ She says, looking between the two of us.
I don’t know if she saw the whole food exchange, but it dawns on me that it was probably not very client-employee-like behavior.
“Tia! How are you? Are you excited about Luca coming home?” I ask.
Luca was Olivia’s son, who had been with Thalia and her daughter Lucia in Mexico. The two kids had grown up like twins and separating them was next to impossible.
“Yes, I miss him so much,” she replies.
“Me too.”
The kids were always with me when they were here, and I was missing them more than I realized these last few months. I frown before I shake it off—a quick warning to myself not to return to that sad place and change the subject.
“Omg, Tia, these eggs benedict are amazing,” I say, brushing off the sad tone from my earlier statement.
“It was all my new sous chef. He has been making so many changes. You should meet him, he’s around your age. Efren!” she yells, walking to the kitchen.
When she returns the sous chef, she was boasting about follows behind her.
“Efren, this is my other niece, Ariella.” I smile and extend my hand to greet him properly.
“Nice to meet you, Ariella.”
He looks to the side before placing my hand in his. In one quick motion, he brings it to his lips. My cheeks flush, and I’m thrown off momentarily by the action. When I look at Nero, his eyes are pinned to my hand, and they are ice cold.