4. Addie
Chapter four
Addie
As if I didn’t get enough family time at the funeral, we all had to gather again at Abuelo’s mansion the next day. Thankfully, I arrived early and was able to get a seat next to Aunt Melissa in my grandfather’s office—the very location where my life changed forever.
We were celebrating Hayden’s graduation from UCLA. Then we realized that we ran out of booze at his parents’ house. And so, it was my idea to sneak over here and get some more out of Abuelo’s secret stash.
“Here it is,” I announce with pride after picking the janky lock and holding up a bottle of Guifiti .
“What the hell is that?” he asks. “It looks like a decoration my mother would put in our bathroom.”
I laugh. “It’s called Guifiti , and it’s very popular in Honduras.” To be fair, he wasn’t wrong. It seems like a random, unlabeled bottle with a bunch of orange peels, cinnamon, eucalyptus leaves, and of course, a whole lot of dark rum. You can’t forget that part.
As I pour him a glass, he looks into it and winces.
“Just try it!” I egg him on. “It’s good. I promise.”
He hesitates, but he eventually tips it back, down his throat.
“Holy shit!” he exclaims after balling his hand into a fist and coughing into it.
“Strong?” I ask innocently.
“Yeah. You could say that.” He dabs at his mouth with the back of his wrist. “To be honest, I don’t really drink that much.”
Oh? From my vantage point, it looked like he was used to taking shooters with his friends all night.
“Water,” he says, and we both laugh.
I wasn’t much of a drinker at the time either, except for when Abuelo wanted to share a night cap. So I just set the bottle down, and we sat there in silence for a bit.
“So . . .”
“So,” I repeated.
Then, after a few more seconds of awkwardness, I surprise myself after I lean forward, grabbed the back of his neck, and kissed him.
It was magical, at least from my point of view. His lips are soft, pillowy, and tastes like what potpourri smells like. Granted, I know that was from the Guifiti . But still.
When I pull away, my anxiety starts kicking in. And it doesn’t help that he wouldn’t say anything.
Shit, shit, shit. “I—I’m sorry,” I say with my eyes wide.
Why the hell did you do that?
Eventually, he laughed. “Sorry? For what?”
“For—”
Before I could finish my sentence, our lips were smashed together again, and his long fingers were tangling in my hair.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he admits after coming up for air.
My heart felt so full to the point that I was worried it might explode.
“Me too.”
“Really?” he cups my face in his hands.
I nod, and he smiles before resuming the kiss.
Oh, God. My stomach flutters from the familiar view. Just being back in this room has all of those na?ve and giddy feelings coming back to me.
I squirm in my dusty seat as I start experiencing a pulsating feeling between my legs. The memory keeps flooding my mind.
The way we rose to our feet, and he guided me over to my grandpa’s desk? It was unforgettable.
“Should I lay down?” I ask.
Instead of answering, he lifts me up and climbs on top of me.
I’m wearing a tank top, so the cool wood caused goosebumps to form on my bare arms.
“You okay?” he asks after he seems to take notice.
I bit down on my lower lip and nodded. “Mhm.”
He smiles with a sigh. “Okay.”
He continued to kiss me after that, and his tongue managed to slip inside my mouth a few times.
Jesus. I can still remember the feeling of delight I felt as I was fooling around with him.
Then came time for him to pull his shirt over his head and discard it onto the floor. I wanted to scream with joy, and his body was just as defined and perfect as I pictured it would be.
“Your turn,” he suggests with raised eyebrows.
“Okay.” We’re both laying horizontal at that point, and I try my best to wriggle underneath his heavy weight as I take my top off.
“Do you need help with that?”
“What? Oh.” I answer my own question when I looked down and remember I’m wearing a sports bra.
Oh, God. How incredibly unsexy of me. But he never made me feel any type of way about it, and lifted it up and over my head.
Next, it was the time to remove our pants and underwear.
“You’re sure your parents are out of town?”
I was still kissing his neck when I reiterated, “My mom is at a premiere, and my abuelo is out of town on business.”
“Okay, Okay.”
When we were both bottomless, he paused again before inserting himself inside of me. I was burning for him so badly at that point that I almost wanted to choke him for making me wait any longer.
“This isn’t your first time, is it?” he asks.
I shake my head. Now, stick it in! I want to experience what it is like to have him fill me up.
“And—and you’re on the pill?”
“Yes.” After that, I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him in.
“Oh, Addie,” he moans against my ear after a few thrusts.
I remember it all so well that it feels like I’m watching a movie.
“Addie?” Aunt Melissa’s voice brings me back to reality. My front teeth are hovering over my bottom lip, and I shake my head and flutter my eyelashes to return again into my 31-year-old body.
“Sorry.”
She inhales sharply and pats my thigh. “It’s okay. It’s an emotional day for all of us.”
Oh, you have no idea. The last few days have been taxing. I never thought I’d step foot into this study or see Hayden again.
As usual, my mother is “fashionably late” and came in with just minutes to spare. Just before an older man with a Cartier bracelet and a Rolex started reading out Abuelo’s last will and testament.
“Thank you all for being here. I’m Steven Sawyer, and I’m here to represent Mr. Flores’ will,” the lawyer says, picking up a stapled document off his desk.
“You’re welcome,” my mother is the first to say.
My fists clench, and my aunt clutches my knee. Her reassuring touch makes me calm down a bit, and I start breathing deeply.
“Okay, so I’ll start with Erin Flores—”
“That’s me!” my younger cousin exclaims while raising her hand.
The lawyer nods and smiles. “Great. You will receive your grandfather’s Olympia Honduras watch.”
“Yes!” Erin pumps her fists.
“Are you going to tell her, or am I?” Aunt Melissa mumbles. Erin isn’t the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree, and she likely thinks it’s an old vintage item that’s worth a lot.
“Oh, just let it be a surprise when she tries to sell it on eBay.” The most she’s going to get for it is probably around thirty bucks.
We laugh together and receive disapproving glares from several people in the room.
“Sorry,” I mouth before stifling more laughter.
The lawyer smacks the bottom edge of the documents against the desk and continues, “As for Adriana.”
“Addie,” I correct him without even thinking about it. However, when I realize what I’ve done, I press my fingers against my lips.
“Adriana,” he repeats. “You are to receive his estate and his entire holdings.”
All eyes fall on me.
Well, so much for my heart rate. I slide to the edge of my seat and hold my finger up in the air. “I’m sorry. What?”
“Yes, what about me, Rosa Flores?” my mom emphasizes with a bite.
“You were just the interim CEO,” he explains.
What? The fact that she is “CEO” in any capacity is news to me.
Aunt Melissa and I share a glance, both of our eyes wide and confused.
My mother stands in defiance and folds her arms angrily across her chest. “This is ridiculous!” She glares at me, and I see her jaw clench. “Adriana doesn’t know how to run a company.”
Instead of making a big show, I slink down and start rubbing at my temples. What the hell? I thought I’d come in here, be told that I inherited an old brooch of my grandmother’s or something, and then move on with my life. But no. I’m receiving my grandfather’s estate and his entire holdings?
“However,” the lawyer adds, “There are conditions you have to abide by, Addie.” He smiles at me when he uses my nickname.
“Oh, thank goodness. The old coot had some sense,” my mother says.
“First, you must reside in the family estate—”
You’ve got to be kidding me. I hate it there. Plus, I was just starting to get my life and career started in Phoenix.
“No,” my mother protests. “No!”
The lawyer then opens his mouth to say something else, but my mother’s continued antics stop him. So, I hear his teeth connect and then watch as his hands clasp in his lap, and his eyes dart across the room.
I hope that in his line of work, he experiences this kind of drama all the time.
In a huff, my mother storms off while mumbling about protesting the will and suing.
Several other family members follow her. And then, it’s just the lawyer, Aunt Melissa, and me.
“As you were saying,” I prompt him after crossing my legs and trying my best to act like the irrational outburst hadn’t just taken place.
“Yes,” the lawyer responds after clearing his throat. “You’ll reside at the Flores Estate for at least one year. And you must also keep up with his quote-on-quote, special project.”
“Huh?” My head is spinning.
“A hotel.”