CHAPTER 16
Leaning against the gate, Victoria watches Javier”s car blur into the horizon. She turns back, facing the entrance, dreading her next encounter with Micaela and that maddeningly haughty expression on her freckle-splashed face which she is begrudgingly beginning to like.
She”s still seething and knows that walking through that door in her current state will only lead to another argument. Instead, Victoria opens the patio door and steps out, hoping a walk will clear her head. Walks usually help, offering a chance to reflect. Javier”s intrusive question echoes in her mind: Do you like Micaela? Admitting it infuriates her, mainly because she knows it”s precisely why she overreacted—unprofessionally and childishly. Since when does she need Javier to sort out her messes?
She clicks her tongue and kicks a stone, surprised by how far it skids across the ground. Victoria wanders the streets of Vinuesa for nearly an hour, the time she needs to cool down and to quell the embarrassment over her own dramatics. Surely not even Micaela, who has proven her immaturity time and again, would have made such a scene had the roles been reversed.
Victoria feels a jolt at the thought, imagining the roles reversed—herself in the thick of things and Micaela catching her in the act. No doubt, it”s a relief that scenario will never unfold. The Italian author, with her maddening flair for drama, would probably whip out her phone to capture the moment, holding it over Victoria”s head like a sword. Victoria chuckles at her wild imaginings, realizing after hours of reflection, she”s ready to head back.
As she approaches the house, twilight drapes the sky in a tapestry of burning oranges, captivating her less than the tantalizing scent of barbecue wafting through the air. She inhales deeply, like a predator zeroing in on its prey, her gaze scanning for the telltale smoke. She finds none, but as she crosses the threshold of the gate, a light flickers in the backyard.
Curiosity piqued, Victoria slips through the kitchen to find the back door ajar. She steps out onto the patio and stops dead—there stands Micaela, the unexpected chef behind the grill.
What remains of Victoria”s irritation evaporates as her eyes take in the scene. The backyard isn”t large, but Micaela has transformed it into an intimate oasis. Strands of soft, warm bulbs crisscross overhead, bathing the area in a gentle glow, while candles flicker on a table draped in a pristine white tablecloth, as if set for a romantic evening. In the center, a ceramic plate decorated with dry leaves holds a candle, flanked by two wine glasses and a bottle chilling in an ice bucket. If they were a couple, it would be the most romantic dinner Victoria could imagine.
”What is all this?” Victoria asks, her voice barely above a whisper, afraid any louder might shatter the magical ambiance.
Micaela flips the meat on the grill and turns to her with a radiant smile. ”It”s my way of saying sorry. Don”t get the wrong idea, I know it looks like I”m about to propose,” she jokes, her smile softening the evening air.
Victoria tries to smile back, but she”s so taken aback that all she manages is a choked sigh, her lips stretching into a thin line.
”It”s not that,” Micaela continues, her voice warm and inviting. ”I just really enjoy preparing dinners like this for special moments, and I haven”t properly thanked you for all the help you”ve been with the project. I know you”re here because of me, and I”m not the easiest person to deal with. But if you give me a chance, you”ll see there”s a charming side to me,” she adds with a mischievous wink.
Victoria purses her lips and narrows her eyes slightly, still wary but acknowledging Micaela”s effort. ”Just keep other women out of that bed as long as I”m here,” she says, stepping down onto the patio, moving closer to the beautifully set table.
Micaela picks up the wine, closes the distance between them, and pours a glass for Victoria.
”I swear, I won”t bring anyone else here,” Micaela promises, pouring wine into two glasses with a flourish. She hands one to Victoria and raises her own as a peace offering.
”I promise, from now on, I”ll focus solely on the book—no distractions.”
”Okay,” Victoria accepts the gesture as an apology, clinking her glass against Micaela”s. ”I guess I should apologize too. I shouldn”t have reacted the way I did,” she admits, her voice small.
Inside, Micaela feels a surge of triumph. This is typically where her sharp tongue would dance around her mouth, spitting out words that might reignite Victoria”s anger. But she bites her tongue, remembering the editor”s warnings that she has more to lose. Plus, she admits, this truce with Victoria is quite pleasant. The ambiance Micaela has created is cozy, and she realizes she couldn”t ask for better company.
”So, how was dinner with your son?” she asks, shaking off her thoughts.
Victoria relaxes and takes a seat while Micaela returns to the fire to finish toasting a couple of slices of bread after taking the meat off the grill. Victoria starts to share that everything went well and she enjoyed the meal. For a moment, she feels so comfortable with Micaela that she nearly shares the concern she and her ex-husband have about their maid”s comment, but she decides against it. Unknowingly, the two end up reminiscing about their childhoods and early days in the publishing world.