Chapter 3
Jade
“Two months and twelve presentations with him! We have to travel together, stay in hotels together, eat meals together. If I end up dead, Carlos is the first suspect.”
I take another gulp of wine. My second glass is going down way faster than it should, but I’m a little giddy and possibly tipsy, sitting in this tiny London café waiting for one of Europe’s most famous rock stars—who also happens to be Sara’s boyfriend—to perform.
Yesterday, before I left the office, I officially said yes to touring Europe with Carlos as my translator.
I might regret it—I already regret it—but how could I say no?
I’ve told my friends the basics over the phone, but now, seeing them in person, I’m really getting to dump all of my feelings into a big messy pile.
When we moved to Europe, I knew we would see less of each other than when we all lived out in the suburbs of Austin. Our regular yoga classes and happy hours would be concentrated into one weekend a month when we traveled to see each other.
And now we have the additions of Luc and Chris. Luc is Tessa’s very charming French boyfriend who lives in Paris. They are long-distance, but both travel between the Algarve and Paris as much as they can.
Sara, meanwhile, has moved to London to live with Chris, and that’s why we’re here on a Friday night in this little coffee shop.
It’s still a little surreal that one of my best friends is dating the Chris R?cher, from the German band Verduistering.
And right now, no one in this café except the four of us (and presumably, some of the staff) know that Chris will be performing.
Plus, Emma just banged the fuck out of her MBA professor, and I’m so happy for her and not at all jealous that she’s getting some and I’ve got my dry spell.
“Carlos is not going to murder you,” Tessa says mildly.
I don’t really think Carlos would kill me. Maybe.
A business trip like this—months of traveling and working together—means we will be spending so much time together, and Carlos obviously doesn’t like me already.
“He thinks I’m unprofessional,” I say, surprising myself with the admission.
“What?” Emma frowns. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I’ve always been careful at work. I don’t make inappropriate jokes, I don’t—” I stop myself. “Okay, I wanted to recommend a sex-positive book to the office book club, but I didn’t.”
“Jade,” Tessa says, laughing. “That’s very restrained of you.”
“Right? I’m a model of professionalism!” I throw my hands up. “But Carlos looks at me like I’m some kind of liability. Like he’s waiting for me to embarrass him in front of all those industry professionals.”
Alas, these trips are going to be a huge exercise in biting my tongue twenty-four-seven.
“I’ll make sure you have his contact information so you can hunt him down and avenge my death,” I tell them.
Emma, Tessa, and Sara look at each other. “I think out of our group,” Tessa says, “the one most likely to get away with murder is probably you.”
I gasp in mock outrage. “I would never.”
“You’re the one who listens to all the murdery podcasts and watches true crime shows,” Sara points out. “Tell me those haven’t given you a few ideas.”
“I mean, everyone in those shows usually gets caught, and that’s the only reason we know how they did it: they get caught.”
“Did you talk to Rebecca about it?” Emma asks, getting us back on track.
“Well, she brought it up in front of him, so I couldn’t very well say, ‘Please don’t send me on this tour because I might murder my colleague.’ He was right there.”
“You’ve also said he seems to be the most competent person in his department, right? So shouldn’t it be a good thing that he’s going to do the seminars with you?” Sara asks. Once again, she’s being so reasonable.
If only fear was rational.
I know Carlos is good at his job. And the fact that he speaks five languages blew me away.
If I hadn’t been so distracted with my own concerns I would have taken the time to admire that.
I’m working so hard on my Spanish, and my Mandarin is rusty since it’s been so long since I spent a year living and working in China.
“Competent, yes. Stick up his ass, also yes. But he’s not doing the presentation with me; he’s translating it.
And I asked Rebecca why we would even need a translator when so many people speak English anyway, and she said that it won’t just be contemporaries there, but patients and their families too. ”
“Speaking of which, how are your Spanish lessons going?” Tessa asks.
I brighten. “Wonderfully.”
“Could you do the presentation in Spanish yourself?” Emma asks.
Okay, they’ve been going well but not that well.
“No. I wish. But I’m just not that fluent yet. Too bad it’s not in Mandarin. I could probably do that. Maybe I should pitch an Asia tour to Rebecca.”
Ugh, but then I’d have to present more and fuck that noise.
“Jade,” Sara says gently. “Is this really about Carlos?”
I take another sip of wine. “What do you mean?”
“You’re fixated on traveling with a coworker you don’t like. But you love to travel. You love meeting patients.” Tessa tilts her head. “What’s really going on?”
My throat tightens. “I don’t think I can—”
The overhead lights flash. Chris takes the stage and the audience crackles with recognition.
I watch Sara watch Chris, her face soft with love.
She’s leaning forward slightly, her whole body oriented toward him the way a plant tilts toward light.
It’s unconscious. She doesn’t even know she’s doing it.
I reach over and squeeze her hand once. She squeezes back without looking away from the stage.
I try not to feel envious of what my friends have found.
Chris moves across the small stage like he belongs there. Comfortable. Confident. The audience is hanging on his every word.
What would that feel like? To stand in front of hundreds of people and not be terrified?
Chris plays four songs, one a duet with the previous singer, and by the end, the crowd has grown and I can feel the press of it behind us.
The four of us look at each other and laugh while Chris dips into the staff area, rushing out before things get out of hand.
He’ll meet us at his house later for dinner.
“Oh, my god!” Emma squeals. “That was amazing!”
“He totally wrote that first song about you,” I say.
Sara laughs. She picks up her phone, no doubt texting Chris.
Tessa leans toward me, and for a moment I feel dread that she’s going to ask about my completely unreasonable fear, but instead she asks, “So what is your schedule going to be like? Will it interfere with our weekend visits?”
Relief hits me. That’s much easier to talk about. I outline the plans and Tessa pulls up her calendar on her phone.
Sara pulls up her calendar too, Emma chimes in with her concerns.
She is almost done with the fourth term of her MBA program and what happens next for her is a little up in the air—an internship, probably, but she doesn’t know where yet.
Plus she’s trying to juggle a visit back to the US over the summer to see her three college-aged kids.
“All right, ladies, let’s get a move on,” Sara announces, and we abandon our table and empty mugs, weaving our way through the crowd to the exit.
Outside, we turn right. Tessa pulls out her phone—texting Luc, probably.
London is colder than Madrid, and it’s grayer to boot. Texans weren’t really made for colder weather, and since Sara moved to London we’ve all had some discussions about proper winter gear.
We walk toward Sara and Chris’s place, intending to pick up Indian food along the way, but I’m guessing we need to make another stop too. “Can we stop at a wine shop?” I ask.
“We’ve got a few bottles back at the flat,” Sara says.
Emma and I look at each other. “Back at the flat,” we echo and giggle. I can’t see Sara’s face but I’m pretty sure I feel an eye roll. Sara’s been picking up a few Britishisms since she moved here and it’s adorable. Plus, Chris uses them too, and they’re even cuter in his accent.
“I checked out what you have, but I’d like a bottle of cava.” Her wine selection was just okay. I’m not that big of a wine snob but even I was underwhelmed.
“Have I had cava?” Emma asks.
“You had some in Madrid when you stayed with me, but it was forever ago. I think it’s my favorite now.” Manny told me it’s supposed to be a special occasion drink, but in my mind, there’s always something to celebrate.
“Oh,” Tessa says, taking two quick strides to catch up to us. “Unseating the Moscato?”
“My tastes are maturing,” I say, affecting a terrible British accent. “Besides, I’ve grown used to drinking it. When in Rome—or, in this case, Madrid—and all that.”
Sara turns to me, linking our arms together. “Well, then, let’s get you some cava posthaste. I know a shop on the way to the Indian place.”
Tessa links arms with Emma, and they follow behind us. My friends are all so happy right now. And I’m happy for them. Really, I am. My heart can be happy for my friends while my hormones rage about getting laid.
All I want is one hot hookup. Is that too much to ask? And a weekend away would be the perfect time for it.
“Does Chris have any friends he can hook me up with?” I wonder.
“Still in a dry spell?” Sara glances at me with concern.
“My vibrator has been working overtime. And I think it would be good to focus my attention on someone else instead of worrying about this Carlos thing.”
“Well, I hate to say this, but a one-night stand in London that you’re never going to see again probably isn’t going to cut it.”
“It can’t hurt. Orgasms are nice in that way, especially non-self-inflicted ones.”
Sara rolls her eyes again, so hard it probably hurts. I grin.
“Maybe you need to go on an actual date.”
“Blasphemy,” I say. “Besides, I’d only leave the man behind, brokenhearted, when my time in Madrid is up. We can’t all happily settle down like you. And unlike you three, I have a job in Austin to get back to soon.”
I say it lightly, the way I always do. The job in Austin is real—my team, my lab, the life I built there over a decade. A good life, by any measure. A nice apartment near the Domain, friends from work, a farmers’ market on Sundays. Before Madrid I would have described it as exactly what I wanted.
It’s harder to describe now. Not because Austin has gotten worse. Because the measuring stick has changed.
“Six more months,” Sara sings. “A lot could change for you in six months. Just you wait, Jade. I have a feeling your dry spell will be over soon.”
“Ah, yes, the eternal words of optimism from a happily paired person.” I shake my head, teasing them, and raise my voice to make sure Tessa and Emma can hear me. “You three are so ridiculously happy with your men—”
“Santo isn’t my man,” Emma protests.
“—while I’m about to spend two months in close quarters with a man who can’t stand me. Two months of hotel rooms and dinners and Carlos glaring at me across conference tables.”
“Maybe that’s not such a bad thing,” Tessa says with a smirk.
“What?”
“Forced to travel together.” Tessa puts the back of her hand on her forehead. “Dinners out, sharp barbs, and then the hotel has lost your reservation and there’s only one room left—”
I nearly choke on my exaggerated gasp. “Carlos? Absolutely not. That man has ice in his veins. Plus you know I already asked him out and he wasn’t interested.” I wave my hand dismissively. “It’s fine. I’m over it.”
“I don’t know,” Sara muses. “You talk about him a lot for someone you claim to hate.”
“I don’t hate him,” I protest. “I just—he—”
My phone buzzes. I pull it out and my stomach drops.
Jade
Presentation training starts next week. Carlos will be joining to help coordinate translation needs. See attached schedule.
Rebecca
“What is it?” Tessa asks.
I stare at the screen. Next week I’ll start training with Carlos. The countdown has officially begun.
“Nothing,” I say, shoving my phone back in my pocket. “Just work stuff.”
But my dry spell is suddenly the least of my problems.