Chapter 26
I really didn’t think I’d bought that much new stuff in Ibiza, but somehow I’m struggling to get my suitcase zipped up.
It’s not until I crash-land my body onto the bag that I’m finally able to close it up.
Since there isn’t any room left in my luggage for my unwashed underwear, I’d prefer to put those in a separate baggy.
It seems a bit gross to just toss it loose into my carry-on luggage, but I can’t find a bag that would work.
Instead, I scrunch it all up into a ball and cover it with the wrapping paper I saved from my goodbye party.
Then, because I’m out of tape, I secure the package with the ribbon that was tied around the photo album I got from Mia.
The final result looks like something the Grinch might put under the Christmas tree, but it’s a practical solution that will at least keep the rest of my carry-on bag clean.
My bikini and travel outfit are laid out on the bed. After dinner, I want to take one last evening dip in the sea. The hot weather we’ve had all summer has made the water temperature absolutely glorious.
I swap my lingerie for my bikini and pull my dress on over my head. The outfit I set aside for tomorrow is a combination of pants and a simple tee. Surprising absolutely no one, the weather forecast for the Netherlands is calling for rain.
No matter how happy I am with how the restaurant is doing right now, the uncertainty about this loan repayment feels like a dark cloud hanging over us. However much I want to believe that Elias will stick to his word, I can’t help but feel apprehensive.
This afternoon’s dark skies have made way for sunshine and the temperature outside is wonderful.
When I walk out onto the beach, it’s still pretty busy, but any families with small children—already few and far between during the summer vacation months—are all long gone by now.
The Instagram models are still going strong, though, and I spot some retirees here and there, dressed in colourful sun hats and enjoying the early days of the island’s off-season.
I spread out my towel on the loose sand and sit down, enjoying the background chatter coming from the restaurant.
When I remember how quiet things were on our patio back in June, adding nothing to the hustle and bustle around the beach, I feel a deep sense of pride at how far we’ve come.
I truly hope that we’ll stay a part of that mixture of sounds as time goes by, that our chatter won’t be drowned out by yet another new mega club.
A warm breeze brushes through my hair and I take a deep inhale to absorb the scent of the sea.
I’m going to miss this. The beach, the water, the space, my family.
Starting next week, I’ll be back on a tightly packed tram for my commute to work.
During rush hour. Surrounded by grouchy people attempting to drown their morning moods with hot brown water from the kiosk on the corner.
I’m not sure how they’re still getting away with calling that stuff coffee.
Why isn’t coffee a protected product with a clear definition, like.
.. feta? How can you just use the word coffee for any old black liquid that trickled through a filter?
I let out a deep sigh. I don’t want to trade this fresh seaside air for Amsterdam’s exhaust fumes, or the blanket of kerosene that wafts over from Schiphol airport and hangs over the city.
Starting on Monday, I’ll spend entire days at my desk again. No racing around the restaurant, no delighting in Abuela’s cooking, no lively interactions with Mia, Emilia, Karel, and the rest of the crew. If I’m being completely honest, I think I’ll even miss Juan.
And Elias. It feels unsettling to be so furious at someone and still long for him.
To be thinking about his smile, his arms around me, our amazing conversations, our bodies twisting together—while also entertaining less enjoyable scenarios involving his balls, like violently introducing them to my knee.
There’s obviously lots to look forward to once I step off the plane, like wine nights with friends and visits to my parents. But for now, I’m allowing myself to wallow in the thought that there’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here.
I let out a long exhale and walk toward the sea, ready to splash into the water and jump up against the waves one last time this summer.
When I wander into the kitchen, Abuela is teary-eyed as she hands me a dish of food she prepared.
She’s been crying virtually non-stop since the letter from Los Castillos arrived.
She dried her tears when I returned from the office with news that things might not be as bad as we feared, but she returned to sobbing as soon as I mentioned my flight leaving tomorrow afternoon.
I made you a Purrito Bowl, she says, trying her best to seem jolly. With extra pico de gallo and guacamole.
Thank you. Abuela clearly still thinks I’m some kind of bottomless pit. The bowl she just handed me is practically overflowing.
She lets out a deep sigh. Enjoy your last evening, Eva. You’ve really earned it. She pats my shoulder before walking over to Karel, who needs input on the amount of garlic to use in a salad.
I sit down on the patio in a chair with a clear view of the sea as I savour the refreshing flavours of lime and cilantro. People all around me are laughing and talking. Purrito jumps up onto my lap with a soft meow while keeping a watchful eye on my fork.
Mia has lit the candles on the patio and I take in the sunset for the last time, watching the sun slowly drop below the horizon. As I take a sip of wine, I let my mind wander to all the wonderful memories I’ve collected this summer, until a voice brings me back to the here and now.
Eva? the voice says hesitantly. I look up and the forkful of toasted chickpeas and guacamole I just put in my mouth nearly goes down the wrong way.
Abuela’s standing beside my table, nervously fidgeting with her apron. She’s not alone, though. Elias is standing next to her...and Andrés.
Elias is still in the same suit he had on this afternoon, but he’s loosened his tie and his hair—already looking a bit dishevelled earlier today—has lost any trace of ever being slicked back.
It’s all over the place now, as if he ruffled it with both hands.
I notice a hesitant smile on his face as he tightens his grip on his briefcase handle.
Andrés, who seemed quite calm and collected during our restaurant reopening party, looks livid. His green eyes twitch across my face angrily before he looks over at his brother.
All because of her? he hisses insistently. He seems to be under the assumption that I can’t hear what he’s saying. Unfortunately for him, I don’t have the hearing of an eighty-year-old rockstar who’s spent her entire life standing just feet away from massive amplifiers.
Elias shuts him up with a stern look. May we? he asks, gesturing at the empty chairs around my table.
I nod and awkwardly motion for them to take a seat. Of course.
Elias sits down in the chair across from me as Andrés takes the seat next to him.
Abuela is still standing by the table, wringing her hands aimlessly, not sure what to do next. Maybe... Would you like something to drink? she finally asks.
I chuckle. Abuela and her endless sense of hospitality would probably offer to make Voldemort a cup of tea if he walked onto the patio.
No, thank you, Elias replies politely and Andrés shakes his head tightly, keeping his eyes locked onto me.
So, I say, putting my fork down on the table. I don’t imagine you’re here to enjoy the gorgeous view?
A corner of Elias’s mouth tilts up as he opens his briefcase and pulls out a stack of documents. We have a proposal for you, he says, sliding the paperwork over to me.
Stunned, I shift my eyes from the papers to Andrés, who’s looking surlier by the second. When I let my gaze glide over to Elias, he gives me a smile.
Take your time to read through the details, but I think you’ll be happy with the new terms.
I wipe my hands on my napkin, turn to the first page, and begin to read.
After a little while, I nod in approval. Gone is the ridiculous stipulation about an immediate loan repayment in full if a payment is missed. Gone is the absurdly high interest rate. To the contrary, in fact... I look at Elias, my eyes wide. He’s studying me with a warm expression on his face.
Andrés impatiently drums his fingers on the tabletop, his acid green eyes full of annoyance. That’s right, two fucking percent interest, lady, he grits. There must be honey between your legs or something. You turned my little brother into a lovesick puppy and I’m not sure how else to expla-
Andrés.
The warning tone in Elias’s voice shuts him up immediately. Andrés crosses his arms like a pouty child, staring angrily off into the distance.
My eyes dart between the two brothers. I’m not sure what Elias said to Andrés, but as I wrestle my way through the stack of documents, I realize I owe him a debt of gratitude.
Not only did he take a wrecking ball to that awful clause, but he made some other adjustments that turned this into an incredibly favourable loan agreement for us.
I... I stare at Elias, not sure how to continue. I... Thank you... I’ll ask Abuelo and Abuela to sign it.
A warm smile appears on Elias’s face, making Andrés gag.
Great. If you two are just going to sit here getting lost in each other’s eyes, I think I’ll hit the road. You can get yourself home, right? He pushes his chair back to get up, but just when he’s about to take off, Elias stops him.
Andrés? he asks with a firm voice and a stern look in his eyes. They hold a brief staring contest before Andrés nods and turns toward me.
Eva, I’m sorry for enacting article 3.1. That isn’t how we want to conduct business at Los Castillos. So, I apologize.
He’s clearly struggling to get the words out. You’d think he was under duress to reveal state secrets to the Russian secret service. I’m having a hard time not bursting into laughter. This is the least sincere apology I’ve ever heard.
I’ll convey your heartfelt sentiments to my grandparents, I say with a tiny chuckle.
Swell. Later, Elias. Andrés rolls his eyes, spins around and strides away toward the stairs.
Still caught in a chuckle, I move the documents to the side. How did you get him to say that? And to agree to the new terms? I ask, sounding astonished. He seemed like he was being tortured.
Elias sighs as he fidgets with a beer coaster that’s on the table. I told him I’d leave the company if he fought the new terms and refused to apologize. I said I wasn’t willing to work for a company that plays games with people’s lives like that. Because that’s exactly what was going on.
His brown eyes are serious and filled with kindness.
The flutters and warm feelings I’ve been able to control for the past twenty-four hours come rushing back as I stare at the man sitting across from me.
Part of me is desperate to tell him that I’ll stay if he asks me to.
That he’s come to mean so much to me that I could burst into tears at the thought of not seeing him again.
But I can’t. My job is waiting for me back home, a contract with a new client, a house, a social life, ...
I’m sorry for not believing you, I ultimately say. Elias looks up from his coaster. And for calling you a walking cliché. That’s not what you are. Not even close. I... I bury my face in my hands and let out a frustrated groan.
Hey. I hear his gentle voice. His warm fingers wrap around my wrist and he slowly pulls my hand away from my face. It’s okay. It was more than justified.
When I drop my hands back to the table, I notice he’s wearing an expression I can’t decipher. My Purrito Bowl is wilting, but I’m not hungry anymore.
Eva... he starts.
He’s cut off by my phone. I touch the screen. It’s a reminder about checking in online.
Elias follows my gaze and his jaw goes rigid. What time is your flight? he asks, leaning back in his chair.
Three thirty tomorrow, I reply, swiping away the notification. Are you hungry? Can I get you a drink? Our house wine isn’t as tasty as the one your grandparents make, but it’s pretty decent.
Elias seems to hesitate, then looks at my phone and shakes his head. I think it’s better that I don’t, he finally says.
I give him an understanding nod and take another bite of my food, barely registering the flavours. I might as well be eating cardboard.
I mean, I still have some work to wrap up before tomorrow and... He exhales a long breath while he rubs his face with his right hand. He looks tired. I have a meeting with a construction company and I need to organize some permit applications. So yeah, I’m pretty busy.
A grim chuckle escapes from his lips and I give him a heartfelt look. Even on the weekend, he’s working on stuff that brings him no joy.
Elias, I’m so grateful for what you’ve done for us, but you know you have a choice here, right?
He looks at me, confused, so I continue, What if you quit?
Do something that makes you happy instead.
Do something that fulfils you. Tell people how you feel.
Who are you serving by working this job that makes you miserable day in and day out?
For us mere mortals, finances would be a huge factor in that kind of decision, but I have a feeling things are solid for you in that department.
Your father will get over the blow to his reputation.
I don’t think you need to keep carrying this huge burden. You’re only harming yourself.
When I’ve finished, Elias quirks his lips and stands up. I know you mean well. Truly. But... He picks up his briefcase, shaking his head. It’s just not that simple.
He looks at me one last time, his expression unreadable.
Have a good flight tomorrow. And with those words, he turns around and returns to his car.