Chapter 15
Little drops of water patter down onto the tables and the surface of the patio.
At the first splash of rain, most of the guests bolted under the large patio umbrellas so quickly that you’d think they were fleeing a downpour of acid rain.
Quite a few of them are asking for their bills, staring angrily up at the dark sky above, unable to process why the weather gods have chosen to curse this particular day.
Damn it, Mia mumbles, hustling over to me with the card machine in her hand. Everyone wants to leave.
A muscular man who has just taken the final sip of his smoothie, walks our way and nods toward the indoor space.
You don’t really have any seating in there, do you?
he asks. His hair is combed forward in an attempt to camouflage his receding hairline and he’s using his hands to protect his delicate coif from the elements.
Feeling awkward, I shake my head. Sorry, we don’t. We’re going to be renovating the indoor dining area and we took out all the tables and chairs in preparation. You’re welcome to wait out the rain inside, though, I say in an apologetic tone.
The man rolls his eyes. Nice job preparing for the summer season, lady, he snarks. Anything you can do about the rain instead, then? He chuckles, clearly thinking he’s pretty funny. Do something about the rain?
I’m afraid not, I hear Mia reply as she rolls her eyes. I’m sorry your afternoon is getting rained out, but there’s unfortunately nothing we can do to change that.
The man grumbles something unintelligible and walks back over to his girlfriend, whose mascara is proving to be less than waterproof.
People are leaving cash on their tables before running for the stairs.
A few folks head inside to get out of the rain.
The umbrellas are flapping dangerously, practically begging to be folded shut.
I kindly ask the final few guests to go shelter indoors, before closing up the umbrellas one by one.
When I catch up with Mia, she shoves her phone into my face.
It’s supposed to clear up for an hour later on, but the rest of the week looks crappy, she says, sounding dejected. Just look! Rain and storms all week. I think we need to close. She stifles a swear. A week without income... she sighs, shaking her head. This is the last thing we need.
What if we can still put the week to good use?
I suggest. We could get a head start on fixing up the dining room.
The idea floods me with excitement. You know what?
I’ll head out right away to get some brushes and paint.
If we can get a new colour up on the walls this week, it will make the whole area look so much better already.
The last time the inside of the restaurant had any kind of major maintenance done, smoking indoors was still legal.
The nicotine-tinted paint on these walls is long overdue for some freshening up.
Mia nods in agreement. Okay. Want to borrow my car? She scrambles around in her apron pocket for her keys. I would wait for the rain to let up though. The roof won’t close anymore.
I hesitate, staring at the keys that could lead me to a premature death. I was actually thinking of calling a cab, I say, in a faux causal tone.
Mia’s lips curl into a cheerful smile. Scared? she asks, sounding amused. With your clean driving record, literally nothing could go wrong. Even Abuela has taken it out before and she obviously survived.
Of course I’m not scared, I retort, narrowing my eyes. But...
Mia challenges me with a stare and that ridiculous grin still plastered on her face.
Ugh, fine, I concede, snatching the keys from Mia’s hand. But if I spin out on a hairpin turn somewhere, you’re covering the funeral costs.
Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go! I shout at the jeep as it sputters its way up the mountainside.
You’d think I was about to cross the finish line in a Formula One Grand Prix.
You have four-wheel drive for a reason! Use it, dammit!
I try shifting gears, which just makes the car sputter even more.
I floor the gas pedal and... The car drops dead with a loud bang, a little cloud of smoke rising up from under the hood.
This car could not have flipped me off with a more enormous middle finger.
The rumbling sounds of the next storm are inching closer and the first drops of rain are already splashing down onto my face.
The lids of the huge paint buckets in the trunk are catching more and more water.
Damn it! I scream up at the clouds as rain pours down on me.
The heavens reply with a terrifying round of thunder and a frightening flash that briefly lights up the dark sky.
And then it dawns on me that standing high up on a mountain during a thunderstorm isn’t something you would add to your bucket list if there was still anything else you’d like to do with your life first. I reach into the glove compartment to grab my phone and call a cab. No signal.
Swearing loudly, I lift the paint buckets out of the trunk and start to walk down the mountain.
It’s raining so hard now, it’s like someone turned the sky taps wide open.
Raindrops slam down on the road where they combine with sand, splashing up against my legs and dress.
The soles of my feet slide around inside my now-soaked sandals.
I’m trying everything I can to keep a grip on the road and not slip as I carefully make my way down.
I startle and jump when I feel a stab of something sharp in my foot.
One of the paint buckets crashes to the ground and smashes open.
Dark teal paint comes shooting out of the container with the power of a rocket in lift-off, and I bear the full brunt of it.
A large thwack of paint colours me and my dress blue, the thick liquid clinging to my skin and hair.
I take in the situation for just a moment, frozen in shock, then let out a scream from deep within my belly before kicking the paint bucket and watching as it rolls downhill, landing against a massive rock.
Ouch! I squeak out, rubbing my big toe in pain.
The rain mixes with the paint on my skin, then trails down my body in little blue trickles.
I let myself wallow in self-pity for a few seconds before I walk over to the now-empty bucket and pick it up.
I refuse to pollute the environment with even more litter just because I’m having a shitty day.
As my mood drops even further below zero, I continue my trek down the mountain.
This is it. The lowest point in my life.
Covered in blue paint with mascara running down my face.
Looking the way I look right now, I bet I could even scare the crap out of Chucky.
Coming up from behind me, I hear the sound of tires splashing through puddles.
I look back over my shoulder to discover a big black Land Rover driving my way, slowing down as it gets closer.
It looks robust, clearly built to tear along the most impossible country roads and effortlessly make its way up ninety-degree inclines.
The driver’s side window rolls down slowly.
Eva? The deep voice sounds surprised.
Oh shit.
I angrily glare up at the dark sky.
What happened to you?
I squeeze my eyes shut and debate running for the nearest cliff—conveniently located about fifty feet away—and flinging myself off of it. When I open them again, I’m staring straight into Elias’s concerned brown eyes. Helplessly, I shrug my shoulders.
Car died, I reply, vaguely gesturing toward the sad collection of scrap metal that is Mia’s jeep.
Oh, that was your piece of junk?
It seems like a rhetorical question, but I nod my head anyway.
And... the paint?
I weakly stick the empty bucket out at him. It fell, I answer. I turn around again, about to walk on when Elias’s voice interrupts me.
Aren’t you getting in? he asks, motioning at the passenger seat.
I look from my paint-soaked clothes to Elias’s expensive car.
If his business strategies are any indication of how he comes by his money, I imagine I’ll end up footing the bill for a pricey reupholstery job if I set foot in this car.
I can think of better things to do with my hard-earned savings.
He’s also still pretty low on my Christmas card list, so I’m not exactly thrilled at the idea of getting into a car with him.
Nope, I’d rather wait to get a signal on my phone so I can call a taxi.
Thanks, but no, I say as I turn away from him.
An indignant sound comes from inside the car right before the engine starts up again.
I expect him to dart away, manoeuvering his flashy car directly through a mud puddle to splash me head to toe one last time, but that’s not what happens.
Instead, he drives alongside me at a slow pace with a befuddled expression on his face.
Do you seriously hate me that much that you’d rather walk through the pouring rain in a thunderstorm, completely covered in paint, instead of getting into the car with me?
His tone is a mix of rage and disappointment. Ignoring him, I steadily walk on.
Eva!
What!
Just get in the car! It’s so dangerous out here in this weather!
No. I increase my pace, the water running down the mountain, splitting where it hits my heels.
I hear Elias swear, turn off his car, and open, then close his door.
A steady hand circles my upper arm, forcing me to stop walking.
I spin around and look at him. His beautiful eyes are large and full of bewilderment.
Why are you so damn stubborn?! he shouts.
I... I’m just looking for a phone signal so I can call a cab. Then I can avoid messing up your expensive car with all of this... Smurf pigment. I wave a hand over my blue clothes and plan to keep moving.
Do you really think I’m worried about that? His voice sounds a bit shaky and I turn around in surprise. His hands are squeezed into fists and he almost looks like he’s in pain.
What kind of person do you think I am?
Isn’t it obvious? I respond, gesturing at his swanky car.
I think you take advantage of people for your own benefit.
That you seek out people in such dire financial situations that they have no choice but to agree to your absurd demands.
I mean, a repayment of the entire loan in full if a borrower misses just one single loan payment?
! I use my forefingers and middle fingers to mime quotation marks in the air while I quote the line from the loan agreement. We both know that’s bullshit!
A deep crease appears between Elias’s eyebrows. My brother just added that clause in the contract as a safety measure. Have you ever missed a payment? He gives me a challenging look, knowing exactly what the answer is to his question.
I look down and bite my lip. Yes.
And have we ever asked you to repay the full loan immediately?
Ugh, again with his annoying know-it-all expression as my unspoken reply echoes around in my head. No.
Exactly. ‘No,’ he parrots my thoughts.
He moves closer, his white t-shirt now fully soaked and clinging to his skin.
The outline of his muscles is clearly visible through the practically transparent fabric.
I feel a little shockwave in my belly as I take in the sight of him.
There’s a soft blush on his cheeks and his full lips are slightly parted as he draws in deep breaths.
In fact, we’ve done exactly the opposite. I agreed to a deferral which is something we rarely even consider.
He takes another step closer to me. When the toes of his sneakers touch my toes, my breath quickens. I should feel threatened or intimidated, but I don’t. There’s a mess of emotions coursing through my body, but fear definitely isn’t one of them.
My eyes glide over his face. His dark pupils are wide. When he blinks, the water droplets attached to his long, black lashes let go and stream down his face. His hair is glued to his temples and he moves his face closer to mine.
Why did you agree this time, then? I whisper, captive in his gaze.
In search of an answer, he opens, then closes his mouth.
I’m... not sure, he finally admits. I think I got flustered when you walked in. Then you were so mad all of a sudden and I got caught up in the moment.
He swallows and brushes some hair out of my face, painting the tips of his fingers blue in the process. His lips are closer than ever and I feel his breath caress my face when he speaks.
If I’m being honest, I think I realized that denying you that deferral meant that you’d be going back home. And I didn’t want you to leave.
My breathing becomes shallow and I’m suddenly incredibly hot, despite the cool rain pouring down my body.
Elias’s eyes fall on my lips and before I can stop myself, I bridge the last sliver of space that’s keeping us apart.
His fingers twist into my hair and he releases a long breath through his nose, like he’s been holding it forever.
Massaging my head with his fingertips, he pulls me as close as he can, not at all bothered that his clothes will be covered in paint by the end of this make-out session.
His hands glide down my body, along my waist, and down to my butt.
In one swift motion, he lifts me up and I wrap my legs around him.
His fingers press into my skin, making my entire body sizzle.
For just a moment, he breaks our kiss to open the car door, sit down in the driver’s seat, and pull me onto his lap.
He kisses me again, deep and hungry. I can feel his hands everywhere, gliding over my body, swirling paint all over me.
I imagine I’m completely blue by now. His tongue slips into my mouth as my heartbeat pounds intensely against my ribs.
I can feel him in every cell in my body.
This man is making me feel things I didn’t even realize I could feel.
It’s not until a car comes up behind us, blasting its horn, that we break out of our intimate trance.
Panting, he gives me one last kiss before I awkwardly shuffle over into the passenger seat.
Elias’s chest is heaving and his hair is in a state of chaos.
Blue paint is smudged all over him and when he looks down to survey the situation, we simultaneously explode into laughter.
I quickly hop out of the car to grab the paint buckets and put them in the trunk.
When I jump back in, Elias starts the car and proceeds to drive us down the mountain.