Chapter 34
“I can’t stay here anymore. There are cameras in the hotel corridors; someone will eventually find out.”
“We don’t need to sneak around.”
He seems upset, and although I partially agree since we are both free and there’s no reason to hide, I don’t want to be pointed out at my workplace as the boss’s mistress. Just the thought makes me feel so bad that I can’t help but grimace.
“Olívia, I don’t like the idea of hiding, but I understand what you’re doing. But this between us won’t end, so let’s do this: you come with me to my place today, we have dinner, and then, finally, we’ll have that conversation.”
“If it’s not about rules, what do you want to talk about?”
“About the past.”
That lights up a warning sign inside me. Not what he said but his tone.
I look at the clock and see that it’s almost six in the morning. We spent practically the entire night awake, but despite being exhausted, I don’t regret it at all.
The problem is I have to meet the chef in less than three hours, so before he can stop me, I get up.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to my room. I have to work in a little while.”
He sits on the bed, and the sight of his bare chest immediately has the power to scramble my thoughts again. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” I ask, feeling the tips of my breasts swell.
“Like I’m the breakfast you desire.”
I smile because he’s hit the nail on the head. “I can’t deny it.”
“Come here.” He reaches out and makes me sit on his lap. The sheet separates us, like some kind of barrier, but it takes exactly one kiss for us to be on fire.
“I’m scared.”
“Of what?” His mouth nibbles my ear as I struggle to keep control.
As soon as I realize what I said, I hold my impulsive tongue. “Never mind. I just need one more round of you. I can’t imagine a better way to start the day.”
I decide to leave the suite before him, although by now, many people might already know what happened there. I don’t feel ashamed. No one has anything to do with my life; I just wouldn’t like to be seen as receiving privileges for being in a relationship with my boss.
Before overwhelming myself with contradictory thoughts, I choose to allow myself to dream about what happened.
“You’re distracted,” Melissa accuses, but I pretend not to hear.
I know she still has no idea where I slept last night, or she would have started the interrogation already.
“Olívia?”
I finally give up and drop the reports I was reading. “Yes?”
“Logan was very impressed with you.”
“I’ve already talked to him about the kind of relationship we might have.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means my heart isn’t free, Melissa.” I’m revealing as little as possible because I know how indiscreet she can be sometimes. “I told you that day. I’m not looking for a boyfriend.”
She looks at me in silence, and after a while, she starts to move away from the table. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
I don’t answer, but inside, I think: I do too.
As if he guessed he was occupying my mind, my phone emits a message alert.
Guillermo: Miss Freitas, how’s your day going?
I finally decided to change his name in my phone’s contact list, removing the “Mr.”.
I look at the phone again and wonder how it’s possible that I can see him smiling even through a message.
Me: Good.
Although I love teasing him in person, somehow our differences become more evident through text.
Only a few seconds pass before the phone rings.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
I look around to see if anyone can hear me. “Nothing.”
“Olívia.”
“Can we talk later? I have to meet Chef Julien now.” My appointment with the chef ended up being rescheduled for late afternoon since the restaurant was very busy in the morning.
“Six o’clock in the lobby of the west wing.”
“Guillermo, I don’t think—”
“You’re not going to run away. We need to talk.”
“And does it have to be at your house?”
“Yes. Bring a change of clothes.”
When he sounds so authoritative like that, I’m totally torn between arguing with him for being so bossy or jumping on his neck and showering him with kisses because the truth is I love his dominant ways.
I opt for a middle ground.
“This won’t become a routine. I won’t be sleeping at your house every day.”
“We’ll talk today, and then you decide what you want to do.”
I know he’s totally dodged agreeing with me, but I pretend not to notice. Whatever we decide about us, it must be done in person.
“All right.”
“How’s your head, Olívia? That fall seemed pretty bad.”
I haven’t seen Kathleen since the day I fell, so I’m startled when I find her alone in the elevator. I look at her and remember what Melissa told me when we first met, that most of the hotel staff ate out of her hand—or at least that was the case while she was the CEO’s secretary.
I’m shocked by her audacity. Despite Guillermo not mentioning it, I know it was her who removed the wet floor sign. The woman must be crazy. Now I understand the nickname “rabid bitch” because at this moment, that’s exactly how she looks.
Despite trying to maintain a mocking expression, I can see the disguised resentment beneath the perfect appearance. I wonder whether she came to confront me today precisely because someone informed her that I spent the night in the presidential suite.
It could be, yes, but even though I’m uncomfortable knowing that other people might judge my relationship with Guillermo, I won’t let the arrogant blonde intimidate me. So even though I initially thought about not returning her rudeness, I change my mind.
“I’m doing just fine. It was just a scare, you know? I don’t break so easily.”
The elevator door opens on the restaurant floor, but before I leave, I turn to her. “And you, how are things in your new position? You must be feeling strange not being the CEO’s secretary anymore, but you know what they say, right? Nothing is guaranteed in this life. Good afternoon, Miss Taylor.”
I walk to meet the chef with a feeling of a weight off my shoulders.
It’s the first time in my life that I’ve confronted someone, and the feeling is too good.
“It’s so simple!”
“Isn’t it? The simplicity is the secret. My mother used to say that in Brazil, they usually make little balls and serve them to children. I’ll look for some photos on Google and show them to you, sir.”
“Just me.”
“Of course, Julien. I’ll only show you.” I smile, forgetting he asked for a more informal address.
“As I was saying, in Brazil, this sweet is common at children’s parties.
They roll it up and cover it with chocolate sprinkles and then put it in paper cups.
It looks really cute, but if you’re really considering adapting it for the restaurant, you could serve them on spoons. ”
“Celebration brigadeiro.”
My face immediately flushes when I hear Guillermo’s powerful voice right behind me.
“Celebration brigadeiro?” Julien repeats.
“Yes, it’s an Olívia tradition. Actually, I think it’s become mine too.”
I can’t believe he said that, and I lift my face to meet his gaze. His look tells me exactly what he’s thinking, and I feel my pulse quicken.
“I’ll wait to debut this sweet at the event the day after tomorrow. I want to see the guests’ faces when they try it.”
“Brigadeiro are delicious,” Guillermo says with a mischievous grin. “Shall we?” he asks me, and I don’t have the courage to look at Julien now, imagining what he must be thinking.
“But I haven’t shown him how to make the coffee.”
“You can come back another day. Your shift is over, Miss Freitas.”