Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
We’re into day three and a half of our road trip.
Although we’d initially planned to travel along the coast to Murcia, the capital of the region, Fernando talked me into changing our itinerary.
We traveled north toward the cities of Toledo and Madrid.
As he put it, aside from some Roman ruins and the world’s largest palm grove, there wasn’t much to write home about in our original plan.
Toledo, on the other hand, is famous for its jewelry, the one thing I have a weakness for.
I don’t have a large collection, but the pieces that I do own are all things I’ve inherited from my grandma or pieces of fine jewelry that I’ve treated myself to whenever I hit a milestone, like graduating from vet school.
The way I look at it is that one pair of diamond earrings will last you a lifetime, unlike the less expensive imitation stuff.
“What did you think of the factory tour?” Fernando asks as we leave the jewelry maker’s workshop and enter the retail showroom.
“I’m mind blown. The craftsmen have so much talent. I can’t believe they can make such tiny, intricate items by hand.”
During the tour, we watched as an artisan carefully inlaid threads of gold into blackened steel, creating the intricate jewelry Toledo is famous for.
First, they sketched designs directly onto the metal surface, then chiseled delicate grooves to hold the fine gold or silver wires.
We watched how they hammered the wires in place, then polished the entire piece until the designs gleamed.
“Agreed.” Fernando nods as we pause in front of a glass case filled with intricate necklaces and earrings. “One of the tías you’ll meet in Santa Luz worked as a head designer in a factory similar to this one.”
“I’ll have to ask her more about it.” I shake my head. “If I ever have a midlife crisis and change careers, I think becoming a jewelry designer would be my job of choice.”
“Are you going to do some shopping while you’re here? Or do you want to look around some of the other shops?”
“I think most of what they have here is similar to what I’d find in other boutiques.
If you don’t mind, I’ll shop now.” I immediately reach for a black-and-gold pendant on the shelf in front of me with a gold bird surrounded by a few flowers.
It’ll be perfect for Daphne. “Do you think your mom or aunts would go for some jewelry from here too? I’d like to have a hostess gift for them. ”
Fernando’s face softens. “You don’t have to get them anything. They’ll be happy just to see you.”
“Yes or no?” I hold up a pendant similar to the one already in my hand, looking them over for any flaws.
“Yes.”
“And how many aunts do you have?”
“Too many.”
I roll my eyes.
“There’s three I’m close to who you’ll see every day that you’re in town.” He lets out a tired sigh. “Ava, if you insist on getting them gifts, why don’t you let me—”
“Nope. These are from me. I’m paying for them.” I clutch them to my chest. “If you want to give them something, it’s on you.” I school my face into my best doctor stare to let him know I mean business.
“Fine. Have it your way.” He takes a step backward. “I’ll meet you outside when you’re done. I’m gonna go find a coffee. Do you want one too?”
“Yes please.” I beam. “Give me about ten minutes.”
Fernando nods and heads out of the store.
Over the last three days, I’ve realized that like many men, he doesn’t enjoy shopping.
He admitted yesterday that sometimes he gets claustrophobic if there are too many people confined to a small space.
If it’s an outdoor market though, he’s fine.
For his sake, I’ve tried to keep the shopping to a minimum, but sometimes, it’s hard to resist the call of tourist trinkets.
As I select a few more items from the display shelves, I spy the familiar tall form of Dylan and his blue-haired girlfriend. I lean my head back and squeeze my eyes shut. What are they doing here? Maybe I’m imagining things.
When I open my eyes, he’s still there. With any luck, they won’t see me.
I take a few steps behind one of the taller display cases, giving myself a pep talk.
“I’m not going to let them ruin this trip.
I don’t have to speak to them or acknowledge their presence.
I can do this. Dylan no longer has a hold on my heart. ”
Admitting this to myself sends waves of exhilaration through my body. I’m still working through my emotions, but I’m happy to say I don’t feel like a pile of mush when I see him. It’s a big step up from where I was a few weeks ago.
Squaring my shoulders, I walk up to the cash register, pretending Dylan and the Queen of Vultures don’t exist, then head straight out the door. It’s better if I don’t engage with the enemy.
“That was fast,” Fernando says as I meet him outside. “Did you have enough time? I don’t mind waiting a little longer.”
“I’m good. I got something for all the females in your family and my sister. I’m ready to get going,” I say, slightly breathless.
He frowns, looking me up and down. “Did something happen inside?”
“It’s fine,” I say quickly.
“Ava, you don’t look like you’re—” he starts, but is interrupted by the ringing of his phone. Glancing at the caller ID, he says, “It’s Mamá, I . . .”
“Go on, answer it.”
He nods and steps off to a private corner, just as Dylan and his girlfriend exit the store. “I knew you were planning a trip to Spain for a reason!” she says. “And now I know why! I can’t wait to call everyone and tell them we’re engaged! They won’t believe it when—”
“Ava!” Dylan shouts, freezing in place.
My fingers dig into the flesh of my palm. I will myself not to say something snarky.
“Oh, um, hi again,” the blue-haired woman says, grabbing Dylan’s waist and pulling him closer to her.
My jaw twitches. “Congratulations,” I manage.
“Thanks,” he says.
“I didn’t know you guys were so serious.” My gaze travels to her hand. Her long, slender ring finger contains a two- or three-carat aquamarine on a gold band.
“When we met, everything clicked. I just knew she was the woman for me. I didn’t see a point in waiting. When you know, you know.” Dylan, recovered from the shock, kisses the top of his fiancée’s head.
My pulse quickens as I struggle to remain in control of myself, counting down in my head from five.
I feel like I’m standing in the middle of my own silent scream painting.
He’s known this woman for less than six months and he’s engaged to her?
My mouth opens and closes. “I . . . I . . . I hope you guys enjoy the rest of your trip,” I manage weakly.
“Thanks, we will,” Dylan says.
As they turn to leave, I feel the weight of Fernando’s hand on my shoulder and the tense muscles in his arm. “I heard the whole thing. Are you okay?”
“Not really, but I will be.”
“Fernando, whose voice is that?” I hear a woman ask.
My gaze travels to the device clutched in his hand. “Is your mom still on the phone?”
“She is.” He clenches his jaw. “But I’ll tell her we’ll talk another time. You don’t need this right now.”
“No, I can do this.” I pry his fingers off the device and take hold of it. The woman on the screen has a round face, and the same olive skin and brown eyes as Fernando. I take a deep breath, picture a room full of puppies, and smile as widely as I can. “Hola, I’m Ava. Your son’s girlfriend.”
Her eyes widen to the point that she reminds me of a cartoon character, darting up and down, as if she can’t believe I’m real.
“A girlfriend? A real girlfriend?” she murmurs, then shouts, “Yulia, Yesenia, Maria, come here. Quickly.” There’s some excited chatter in Spanish in the background.
“Fernando has his girlfriend on the phone.” Three other people cram themselves into the picture, squeezing shoulder to shoulder.
“Hi, I’m Ava,” I repeat.
“Ava! What a beautiful name,” one of the aunts says.
“Oh, she’s American. I knew there was a reason your son moved away from here,” voices another. “Now we know why.”
“Shh . . . not all at once, you’ll scare her away,” Fernando’s mom clucks. The women in the background immediately quiet. “Ava, we’re delighted to meet you. I hope to see lots more of you soon. You are coming to Santa Luz, aren’t you?”
My eyes flutter. My brain is slow to process what she’s saying, still stuck on Dylan.
Fernando leans over my shoulder. “Mamá, I told you earlier, she’ll only be in town for a short visit. She has her own itinerary of places she’d like to see and to do. It’s her first trip to Spain, and I want her to make the most of it.”
I hear the stress in his voice. His patience is slipping.
Like a shot of caffeine, it makes me alert.
I focus my energy on the man standing next to me, lacing my fingers through his free hand and squeeze reassuringly.
“Don’t worry Mrs . . .” I rack my brain for Fernando’s last name. “Mrs. Alvarez, I’ll be there.”
“Mamá, we have a lunch reservation. I’ll call you soon.
” He says his goodbyes and hangs up. Shoving the phone into his pocket, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.
“I’m sorry about all that. The timing couldn’t have been worse.
” When his eyes open, they appraise me with concern. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Not unless you’re able to wipe my memory.” I hunch my shoulders. “I’m sick and tired of falling to pieces every time I see him. I’m trying hard to move on, but my heart isn’t computing what my brain is telling it.”
“It’ll get easier with time,” he says quietly. He bends to the ground and picks up a carrier with two coffee cups and a brown bag of churros. “Here, this might help.”
We walk away from the shop down a narrow cobblestone alley. I take a sip of my coffee. It’s gone cold, but the sweet, crunchy churro more than makes up for it.
“How are you doing?” I ask Fernando. “I noticed how your mom and aunts stressed you out.”
“I’m fine. Mamá and the tías are just being their normal selves.
I should be used to it by now.” He takes a long swig of his coffee.
“Mamá caught me off guard when she called and started asking a bunch of questions about why I was in Toledo and why I keep changing the date I’m coming home. She thinks I’m avoiding her.”
In a way, he is. But I keep that thought to myself.
“I panicked, and before I knew what I was saying, I blurted out that I wasn’t alone.
It all went downhill from there.” He sighs deeply.
“I wanted to wait a few more days before I brought you up, but now that the cat’s out of the bag, there’s no turning back.
The tías have already started to blow up my phone with texts asking about you. ”
On cue, I hear his phone vibrating like mad. We stop walking. “Fernando, I’m the one who suggested we go through with the fake-dating thing.” I place a hand on his forearm. “I’m a big bad vet. I can handle this. Trust me.”
“You’re not big or bad, but I do trust you.” He lowers his chin. “I just feel guilty. I’m asking too much of you.”
“Don’t. You’ve saved me when I had the car problem, from Dylan at the airport, and by giving me a vacation so far that I won’t ever forget. Even after we get home again, I’ll still be in your debt.”
“You don’t owe me anything.” He wrinkles his nose. “We’re friends. And when friends get stuck in sticky situations, they help each other out.”
Hearing him say we’re friends causes my heart to twinge. “What you’ve done is equal to if not more than what Daphne would’ve done.”
The muscles in his face twitch. “Does that catapult me to the top of your friends list?”
“Hmm . . . I don’t know yet. But for now, let’s say you’re solidly in the middle of the pack.”
He starts walking again. “What will it take for me to top your sister?”
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “Daphne’s a special case. We’ve been besties since the day I was born. Twenty-nine years. I’ll have to get back to you.” I take another bite of my churro. “What about me? Where do I sit on your friends list?”
“In the top five.”
“Out of . . .?”
“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he quips, biting into his own sugary treat.
I huff. Well, it has to be at least five people long. I’m probably below Frankie and Gemma. And maybe Tim. Not that I blame him. We’re only going on knowing one another for a few weeks.
“What I will tell you, Ava, is that every day we spend together, you’re earning more brownie points. Who knows, there’s a chance you could rise to the top of the leaderboard.”
My pulse races. “I like those odds.”
As we continue through the maze of Toledo’s streets, my mood improves. I forget about Dylan and begin to imagine myself as Fernando’s numero uno friend. After three straight days with this man, I’m starting to get a good feel for his quirks and mannerisms.
Take this morning’s trip from our hotel to Toledo for example.
His driving routine is always the same. He climbs into the car, ducks his head, attempts to scoot the seat back an inch, and cleans his sunglasses before reaching for his seat belt.
Once I’ve shuffled into the car, he’ll hand me a coffee and ask how I slept.
The smile he flashes me when I grunt that I slept well sends a shiver up my spine, fully waking me up if the coffee hasn’t done its job. The corners of his eyelids crinkle, his top lip disappears slightly, and he flashes me a wide smile.
My favorite moment, however, is when he rolls his Rs as he says, “Wonderful, Doctor. Let’s hit the road,” and slides his sunglasses on. I could listen to that man speak for hours on end. Who needs a British accent when you have a Spanish one!
As I look over at him under my lashes, my throat goes dry. Yesterday, I thought the fake-dating thing would be a piece of cake. Well, I should’ve known I was lying to myself. I’m incredibly attracted to him. I just hope I can guard my heart and keep from falling for him.