Chapter 12
Later that day
Caldwell-Oviedo Tower Hotel
I’m completely shocked by the size of the room—it’s not just a room but an apartment big enough to fit about five Olívias inside.
As soon as we arrived, Guillermo dropped me off at the hotel entrance.
A staff member came to collect my suitcase and brought me here.
My new boss said a quick goodbye. He mentioned that the person who would meet me tomorrow would explain how to get to his office in three days, and that I should take this time to relax.
Right. As if I could.
I’m buzzing, eager for someone to pinch me so I can be sure that what I’m experiencing is real. In a way, I’m glad our meeting ended.
I’m naturally restless—now add to that everything that’s happened in a little over two hours.
Think about it.
You’re at home, trying to encourage yourself and believe that everything will be okay.
You know your savings won’t last long, as even with a better job at a café, as I intended, the salary there plus tips wouldn’t even come close to what I need to pay off the monthly agreement I made with the bank.
The installments into which my mother’s medical expenses were divided ate up almost all of my salary, and I’ll probably be paying them until the day I die, but I’ve come to terms with that.
Are you with me so far? Well, then. You’re alone and flat broke, then you open the door and come face-to-face with a man who looks like a hot romance hero and offers you a job.
Doesn’t it just make you think of that fairy godmother thing?
God, with the salary I’ll earn and a roof over my head guaranteed, I’ll pay off my debts and still have a good amount left to start thinking about the future again.
Thank you, Lord! I don’t know what I did to deserve this chance, but thank you very much.
I really want to make some brigadeiro to celebrate. Who needs champagne?
I look at the place that will be my home for a while.
Yes, for a while, because I plan to have my own apartment and independence at some point.
As grateful as I am, he said that employees sleep in this wing of the hotel when they need to, so I don’t want to think that this luxury here will be my life from now on.
I’ve never stayed in a hotel before, but if the employee wing is like this, I’m curious to see what the presidential suite looks like.
I lie down on the huge bed and stare at the ceiling.
Of course, I’ve heard of this hotel. As I said before, the Caldwell-Oviedos are a kind of nobility within the United States, but so far I’ve only paid attention to the brothers who live in the media: golfer Rafe—because I couldn’t not notice him, as his face appears in several commercials—and actor Gael, with his perfect physique for action movies.
Both Rafe and Gael are very handsome, although they don’t look alike physically. Rafe is more like Guillermo, while Gael has fair skin.
I try to absorb all the details of the room.
I usually don’t notice them because my mind is always restless.
The furniture is dark wood, and the bed is so high that my feet don’t reach the floor when I sit on it.
There’s a kind of beige bedspread and also several pillows.
The bed is wide, and I think if I roll across it, it’ll take me about five minutes to reach from one side to the other.
When I entered the bathroom, there were various products like shampoo, conditioner, soap, and body lotion on the counter.
I feel like Cinderella.
The thought makes me laugh as I remember my new boss’s face when he heard me talk about the fairy godmother thing. I know it was inappropriate, but the problem is that when I get nervous, my comments come out disorganized.
The sound of a message arriving on my phone makes my heart race. Somehow, I know it’s him.
Guillermo: Are you settled in, Olívia?
Me: Yes. Do you always check on your employees’ comfort?
I click send at the same time I wonder whether I’ve overstepped. I don’t think so. After all, he started this conversation.
Guillermo: I don’t usually check, but I would like you to have everything you need.
His response makes me lose the desire to joke.
Until now, I hadn’t realized how much I missed someone checking if I’m okay. I was so worried about just surviving that I pushed aside any need that wasn’t material.
Me: I do have everything I need, sir. Thank you very much for asking. And for everything else.
The Next Day
I’ve been awake for some time already and ate a packet of cookies that was on top of the minibar. I usually have breakfast, but I forgot to ask him yesterday where I should go. I didn’t want to send messages and seem like I’m taking advantage.
I made instant coffee and then apologized to God for all the times I complained about the potato water at the café. Nothing could be worse than instant coffee.
Despite my lovely coffee maker being within reach, there’s no coffee grounds available. I should have brought the little bit that was left at home.
A knock on the door brings me back to the present.
I suddenly feel anxious because I know it must be the person assigned to help me go shopping. Wiping my sweaty hands on my jeans, I cover the distance to the door and open it.
There’s a beautiful brunette evaluating me.
I know it’s a bit rude to stare back at her, but I can’t help it.
As Guillermo said hotel staff wear—yeah, I’ve decided I’ll call him that in my head, because we’ve become quite intimate in my fantasies—she’s wearing a straight-cut black dress and a little jacket over it. Her hair is tied in a low bun at the nape of her neck, and she wears very light makeup.
I don’t feel bad about sizing her up, because I realize she’s also taking note of every detail about me.
“So, you’re the new assistant?”
“I . . . I guess so.”
“My name is Melissa Miller. Mr. Guillermo asked me to help you settle in. I’m one of the junior secretaries.”
“I’m Olívia Freitas, nice to meet you, Miss Miller,” I reply, noting that she said one of the junior secretaries—which means there must be several of them, in addition to the main one.
“Just Melissa.”
“Okay. Same here. Just Olívia.”
“Freitas? Where are you from? I’ve never heard that last name.”
“Oh, that . . . I’m from here. Born and raised in the United States, but my mother was Brazilian.”
“Was?”
God, she’s quick and doesn’t miss a thing.
Despite that, I don’t feel intimidated by Melissa. Even though she hasn’t given me a smile yet and is very straightforward, she’s not looking at me with arrogance.
“Yes, she passed away almost a year ago,” I reply, wanting to end the conversation because I don’t want to talk about my mother with a stranger.
“I’m sorry.” For the first time, I see her face relax, and she extends her hand in greeting. “Shall we start over? Good morning, I’m Melissa.”
I accept the offered hand. “I’m Olívia,” I repeat, this time smiling.
“I didn’t know what to expect.”
“Expect?”
“Yes. Kathleen, also known as the angry bitch, sent me here with very few details. She just said that I should take care of the boss’s new toy.”
I feel my cheeks burning. “What does that mean?”
“Who knows? She doesn’t need a reason to hate someone, but I think she thinks you’re some kind of lover of Mr. Guillermo’s, which must have made the witch green with envy,” she blurts out, as if the accusation were the most natural thing in the world.
“What? No!” I reply, dying of embarrassment, and take a step back.
“Sorry. She didn’t say that; I just wanted to test your reaction. Although I’m sure that’s what Kathleen is thinking.”
“Don’t do that again. Test my reaction, I mean. You don’t know me, but if you want to know something, ask directly. I hate malicious insinuations.”
“I think I’m starting to like you, Olívia.”
“Great, but now I’m not sure if I like you. How can I help you, Melissa?”
She smiles, not seeming at all fazed by my stern face. “Actually, I think it’s me who should help you. I have a list here, made by the Master of the Universe himself, to assist you today and prepare you for your first day of work. And guess what? Item number one: we’re going shopping.”
Now, feeling insecure, I look at the well-dressed, fragrant woman. She can’t be more than five years older than me. “Could you also instruct me about my duties?”
“He didn’t tell you?” She raises an eyebrow in question.
“He did, but I’d like to know a bit more.”
She tilts her head, observing me again. “Regardless of him calling your position ‘assistant,’ according to what’s written here, you’ll also be a junior secretary.”
“I don’t think so. I’ve never worked as a secretary in my life. I’ll be more like a jack-of-all-trades, because he said I’ll have other tasks outside the office.”
She looks like she’s about to say something but changes her mind. “Let’s take this one step at a time. First, the clothes. Then, I’ll take you on a tour of the hotel and explain the basics. Sound good?”
“Yes, that’s fine. Thank you.”