Chapter 42
“I’m really sorry for everything you’ve been through,” Julien says between instructions. We’ve decided to feature a special menu of Brazilian desserts once a week.
I’m tempted to say it’s no big deal, but I’m tired of pretending things don’t affect me. “I’ve never felt so humiliated in my entire life.”
“I can imagine. I was also very poor when I was young. When I arrived from France, I slept in scary places to afford my studies.”
I know he’s not trying to pry, only showing solidarity. As I suspected, the press has been broadcasting my relationship with Guillermo to the four corners of the planet. They call me Cinderella, even though there’s no evil stepmother in our story.
I thought I’d be scared having my life exposed this way, but I’ve come to realize I can just not check the news.
I don’t have Facebook, and my Instagram only has one post—guess what it’s about?
Brigadeiro. So even before being treated by the press as the CEO’s chosen one—another not-so-cute nickname because it gives me the idea we’re living in the Middle Ages—I wasn’t up-to-date with the gossip.
Now, I really don’t feel like reading anything.
But Julien mentioning his poor past tells me they probably already know everything about me, including where I lived before meeting Guillermo.
I don’t care. I’ve always been an honest person and have nothing to hide.
“I’m not ashamed of being poor. In fact, I think anyone who looks at me can see that.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m not sophisticated, Julien. Being his girlfriend comes with attending various events together.
I know how to behave. My mother raised me well, and I can also hold a conversation because I’ve always read a lot, even though I didn’t go to college.
But I don’t know how to pick a dress for the opera we’re going to next week, for example. ”
“Too bad Martina hasn’t returned yet. She would be very helpful in these situations.”
Yes, I can’t deny that at least one woman among so many men would help. Even though Mrs. Isabel was very kind to me the last time we met, I don’t feel comfortable asking her to help me choose an outfit.
“Wait, I think I know how to solve your dress problem. I dated a saleswoman from Saks Fifth Avenue. She could assist you in choosing an outfit for the opera.”
“Saks Fifth Avenue? Impossible. Way beyond my budget, Julien, but thanks for trying. I can’t afford to buy anything from that store.”
“But, Guillermo—”
“No. He’s my boyfriend, but the fact that he’s rich is just a minor detail to me. I can pay for my own clothes.”
He falls silent for a while. “Do you have any problem wearing pieces from past collections?”
I laugh. “Definitely not. Especially because I don’t even know what the current collection is.”
“Then I think we can manage. Ava mentioned there’s a section of the store with dresses up to seventy-five percent off. They don’t advertise it because they want to maintain their reputation,” he says mockingly. “But I’m sure it would fit within your budget. What do you say?”
I look at him, still in doubt. “I can give it a try. Thank you so much for helping me.”
I send a message to Guillermo to let him know I’m coming up, and he tells me to use the private elevator.
When I reach his floor, he’s already waiting for me.
Although I’ve gotten used to him needing to control everything, I don’t think that’s why he waited for me at the elevator door.
Guillermo is far from being a friendly man, but with me, he always has a mischievous smile, as if he can barely keep his hands to himself. Now, however, his expression is serious.
I know there are other people in the reception room, but ignoring everyone, I lift my face, offering myself for a kiss.
He wraps an arm around my waist and kisses me briefly. “Let’s go inside.”
“Hi, Melissa,” I greet my friend, who’s smiling like an idiot.
I know it’s probably because of the little romantic scene we just played out.
If I wasn’t so upset about the situation, I might smile back.
“Good afternoon,” I greet without looking at the rest of the people present, even though one of them is that jealous woman.
As soon as he closes the door, he explains. “We’re just waiting for Levi,” he says, referring to the lawyer who represented me on the day of my arrest. “Seems he’s stuck in traffic and will be a few minutes late. Are you sure you want to be here?”
“Yes.”
“Levi said he found out a few more things about Kathleen but prefers to wait for the meeting to reveal them.”
“She makes me sick. Knowing she plotted against me, besides . . .”
“Besides?”
I sigh, tired. “I don’t want to make any false accusations, but I think she’s the one who removed the wet floor sign.”
“Joaquín thinks so too, but why are you so sure?”
“First of all, because I remember the sign was there when we arrived that day, and I’m sure it wasn’t there anymore when I left.”
“And what else?”
“We had a sort of . . . uh . . . confrontation in the elevator, and she asked me how my head was doing.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this?” He seems quite upset.
“Because I’m not a baby. Even though I’m short, I never got bullied in school. I knew how to step on someone’s foot quite well.”
To my relief, his face relaxes. “I would pay good money to have seen you fight as a kid.”
“Hey, I’m not violent. It was just once. The boy tried to swap his lunch with mine because he wanted the banana cake that Aunt Heloísa made for me.”
He laughs. “Come here.” He’s sitting on the edge of the table and pulls me into his lap. “Did she threaten you?”
“Not physically, but you know that gut feeling that someone would harm you if they could?”
“You should’ve told me.”
I don’t answer because I don’t want to fight.
“Anyway, from now on, you’ll have bodyguards looking after you.”
“Why?”
“Several reasons: the press, mainly, and also because my family is very well-known. Being my girlfriend, you become a target. I’m sorry about that.”
Even though we’ve acknowledged being together, he’s never explicitly said he’s my boyfriend, and even if that makes me foolish, I loved hearing it.
“Aren’t you going to protest?”
“Against having bodyguards? No.”
“So meek. What’s on your mind?”
“That I don’t want to wake up from this dream.”