Chapter 9
Trinidad arrives at the airfield where she keeps her private jet an hour before the agreed time with Maria.
She sits in one of the cream-colored leather padded seats, doing nothing but looking out the window at the expanse of open field surrounding her.
She's calm; this is the only place where she feels safe, even though Benjamin sits in the seat closest to the cockpit, reading the newspaper with interest.
Trinidad loves leaving Spain; as soon as the plane takes off, she feels free and the oppression she always feels in her chest or the unease of not feeling safe anywhere disappears completely.
The clouds seem to carry away all her worries.
That's why she bought the plane, to afford the luxury of breathing when she feels like she's drowning in her own home.
The sound of heels on asphalt announces Maria's arrival before she appears at the plane's door.
"Good morning," Maria greets as she enters. Trinidad raises her gaze to observe her as she removes her sunglasses and stores them in the case inside her purse.
Benjamin returns the greeting, and behind her enters Oliver, the thirty-year-old bodyguard whom Benjamin trusts completely and who often accompanies them.
Maria fixes her gaze on Trinidad and walks toward her with such determination that Trinidad feels a certain tingling run through her body at the sensation that Maria might devour her whole.
"Hi," the lawyer greets while setting down her briefcase. "Where do you want me to sit?"
Trinidad catches the fresh scent of her perfume, the same one she was drenched in the other night when she was inside her, and for a moment, she feels tempted to tell her to sit on her lap. The memory sends a shiver through her that she tries to hide.
"Wherever you want," she finally answers, in a deliberately neutral tone.
Maria observes without moving from her side.
Across from Trinidad, there's an empty seat, behind her are two more, and beside her next to the opposite window, another one.
Maria decides on the latter, she doesn't want to sit with her, but she also doesn't want the businesswoman to lose sight of her, and she succeeds, because Trinidad follows her with her gaze when she sits with a mixture of elegance and deliberate provocation.
Trinidad grows desperate with desire when Maria crosses her legs and part of her pants ride up revealing her ankle, an apparently innocent gesture but one that makes the air between them grow thicker.
"We can leave, Benjamin," the businesswoman says and he nods and taps the cockpit door with his palm a couple of times. "I hope you're not afraid of flying," she adds, addressing Maria, who's fastening her seatbelt.
"It's not what I most enjoy doing with Ursula," she admits, "but one must always be ready for anything."
The click of her seatbelt closing punctuates her phrase and Maria turns her head toward the window. Trinidad smiles slightly and puts on her headphones, ready to listen to her favorite podcast during the flight without any distractions, though she's aware of Maria's every movement.
The flight proceeds charged with unresolved sexual tension.
When they land, that bright sun that had just risen in Spain has been replaced by a blanket of clouds and humidity that makes Maria run her hand through her hair as soon as they step on the ground. The London air hits them with its characteristic coldness.
"I don't like this weather at all," she says sighing while her fingers try to tame her rebellious strands, "but I admit London is a city I love."
Trinidad agrees, though she doesn't say so. She likes watching how Maria fights against the humidity that's starting to curl her perfectly straightened hair.
"Is that village far from here?" asks the lawyer, adjusting her jacket to protect herself from the cold.
"Just over half an hour," Trinidad answers, passing her a copy of the report Adrian has prepared for her as they get into the rental car that's been brought to them, "here's everything we need to know about the building.
Now we'll have lunch and then head to the village, we're meeting the owner there directly. "
The chosen restaurant is an exclusive establishment in Mayfair, with high ceilings and crystal chandeliers that tinkle softly.
After a meal where they barely exchange words beyond comments about the menu, the two women sit in the back seats of the vehicle, maintaining a safe distance between them.
Oliver takes the wheel and Benjamin sits beside him enjoying the ride, his gaze lost in the changing landscape of the city giving way to the English countryside.
Maria notices something different in Trinidad, who seems more relaxed than the other times she's seen her.
Her shoulders are less tense and her breathing more steady, but she doesn't dare ask why.
The two make the journey in complete silence, at times quite uncomfortable, at others simply absorbed in their own thoughts, until they arrive at a small town of less than five thousand inhabitants where the inn sits at the entrance, between a two-story house and a small park.
"Is this it?" Maria asks, surprised.
"Yes," Trinidad confirms while Oliver parks the car.
"Damn, the place is perfect. Discreet and still not far from the capital," Maria comments, appreciating the rural charm of the Victorian building.
Trinidad nods and, as they get out, they see an older man emerge who gestures to them from the door.
The businesswoman approaches and introduces herself, then does the same with Maria in quite fluent English and both enter.
The scent of old wood and fresh-brewed tea welcomes them.
The inn preserves its rural charm in every detail: the exposed wooden beams on the ceiling, the stone fireplace in the common room, the stairs that creak softly under their steps.
The place immediately fascinates both women despite Trinidad knowing clearly that she'll need to invest in a good interior renovation to improve the comfort of all the women who will stay there.
After a complete tour where the owner shows them each of the twelve rooms, the two common areas and other spaces not prepared for the public, he leaves them alone in reception to talk while he goes out to smoke.
Through the window they can see him gesturing animatedly while trying to communicate with Benjamin and Oliver.
"What do you think?" Maria asks looking at Trinidad, "because I'm sure Ursula would love it."
"I like it too," Trinidad scans the ceiling beams while speaking, "the rooms are large and if we ever run short on space, they can be shared between two or more women.
In one of those empty spaces we can make a kitchen, in another a training room for language learning and maybe a library or reading area where they can disconnect," Trinidad thinks aloud.
Maria observes how Trinidad moves through the space, pointing out places and possibilities, and can't help but admire the way her mind is already transforming every corner.
"So, are we taking it?"
"If you say Ursula would agree, I'm in."
"Great, I'll call her then."
While Maria steps aside to record a video of the inn and then call Ursula, Trinidad finishes closing the deal with the owner and both return to the car to head back to London, where Adrian has reserved four rooms in Trinidad's favorite hotel.
"I've agreed with him that his lawyer will draft the contract. When he has it, he'll pass it to you for review and if you don't see any issues, we'll sign it as soon as everything's ready," says Trinidad.
"Okay."
Those are the only words they exchange during the return trip to London, but Maria can't stop glancing at Trinidad, because now that the business part is over, she's still burning inside from that encounter as unexpected as it was strange and satisfying that they had the other night.
It eats at her that Trinidad acts as if it never happened, and Maria hates being left with words unspoken.
Oliver parks and the four enter the hotel. As soon as they check in, Benjamin and Oliver go for a drink at the bar after Trinidad practically orders them to, which surprises Maria.
"Well, looks like you don't need your babysitters here," Maria shoots while storing her documentation in her purse.
Trinidad smiles but doesn't take the bait.
"I'll have dinner in my room, see you tomorrow, Maria."
The lawyer can't believe what she just heard, and she doesn't even think about letting her leave without talking about what happened the other night.
"Are you running from me?" she asks when Trinidad turns her back.
The businesswoman stops dead in her tracks and controls the mischievous smile spreading across her face before turning around.
"Do I have reasons to?" she asks, piercing Maria with her gaze.
"Of course not, but I think we should talk about what happened the other night, don't you think?" Maria responds with an air of superiority, the same one she uses with all her conquests.
"Well, no," Trinidad responds and Maria's smug smile vanishes in an instant, "I don't think we have anything to talk about. It's something that happened, period. I didn't think it would traumatize you."
Maria's blood is boiling and she feels her ears getting hot.
She wants to scream because she can't stand it, can't stand Trinidad's coldness or that she's the one playing the role of the cold and ruthless woman that Maria has perfected lately - being on this side doesn't suit her.
However, she breathes deeply and smiles without expressing the frustration she feels right now, because the last thing she wants is for Trinidad to notice how much it bothers her.
"It hasn't traumatized me, I was just worried it might have traumatized you."
"Well, as you can see, it hasn't," Trinidad concludes. "Anything else?"
Maria imagines strangling her with her bare hands; however, she puts on a fake smile instead.
"No. Well yes, I'd appreciate if this stayed between you and me," she blurts out unexpectedly even to herself, "I don't want Ursula to find out."
Trinidad hardens her expression and looks at her offended.
"I don't know what kind of women you sleep with, Maria, but I don't go around bragging about my sex life.
We'll leave for the airfield at nine, don't oversleep or you'll be stuck in London finding your own way back," Trinidad cuts her off, and this time she does turn around and heads for the elevators.
Maria stands there like a statue, feeling a mix of rage and excitement. Trinidad is insufferable, and also irresistible.
Indignant, she decides to take the stairs so the effort of climbing them might help channel her anger.
When she reaches the hallway, she just has time to see Trinidad enter her room and close the door.
She walks quickly and confirms they have adjoining rooms, which makes her more nervous.
Wall to wall with the woman she's dying to sleep with again.
Maria enters her room slamming the door that echoes through the entire hallway. She takes off her heels in anger and throws them against the wall, needing to release her frustration somehow. She falls onto the king-size bed and fixes her gaze on the ceiling and then to one side.
The minibar tempts her from the corner, but she resists.
Instead, she takes out her phone and sees three messages from Ursula asking how everything went.
She hesitates whether to call her. On one hand, she needs to talk to someone; on the other, she fears her friend might notice something strange in her voice.
Ursula knows her too well and she's sure she would realize.
She gets up and walks barefoot to the balcony door, opens it and steps out, feeling a cold that almost freezes her.
Automatically she looks toward the next balcony, Trinidad's, and for a moment imagines jumping from one to the other to enter her room.
A hysterical laugh comes over her and she goes back inside before doing something crazy.
"Damn it!" she exclaims frustrated, closing the door.
She heads to the bathroom and turns on the faucet, letting the cold water run between her fingers before splashing her face.
When she raises her eyes to the mirror, the woman looking back seems unfamiliar, or not so much: flushed cheeks, dilated pupils and slightly disheveled hair.
She's Maria the predator, only this time, she no longer wants to hunt because she only desires one specific prey.
"Shit," she mutters and sighs, looking at the shower with resignation.