Chapter 6
Sol
Sol called her editor early the following morning.
“Julie, did you see my email?”
“The one about Leonardo Pascual getting himself lost but saying we can’t write about it because the police warned you against it?”
Julie McQueen was Sol’s favorite editor. Not only was she the only one to employ her at present. She was polite, direct, and hated small talk.
“That one, yes,” Sol said. With a different editor, that same conversation would still be at a preambles: How’s your trip going?
Are you feeling okay? What exactly did the police tell you that made you think we cannot publish this story?
Julie was all British bluntness, which happened to go perfectly well with Sol’s Spanish bluntness.
“Don’t worry, hon. The news has already leaked. We’re publishing something but linking to another article from a competing outlet,” Julie said.
Sol was standing in the middle of her open-concept kitchen trying to make herself breakfast, but she stopped. She needed to concentrate on this conversation.
“Sorry we got scooped—I just don’t want any more trouble with law enforcement. But I can have the profile about Leonardo ready for you today. Not sure how to approach the subject of his disappearance though.”
“We’ll just say what we know: that you talked to him yesterday and he went missing a few hours later. But we’ll say it better. Let’s not make it sound as if you’re involved. You’re not involved, right?”
“What? In his disappearance? Of course not.”
“Sorry, hon. I had to ask. Legal insisted.”
“Oh gods! Should I get a lawyer?” Again!
“You know me, I think it’s better to always be prepared. Just in case.”
Sol sighed. “I’ll get a lawyer.” She was sure some family member or other could recommend someone competent and trustworthy—or even do it themselves. She made a note to ask her mom and her favorite cousin.
“Brilliant. Anything else?”
Luke walked into the living room from the bedroom then, wearing just low-hanging pajama pants and bedroom hair. Sol bit her lower lip. He looked yummy.
“You still there, hon?” Julie’s voice came out a little higher.
Sol shook her head and returned to the reality of her work phone call. “Sorry! I was distracted. What did you say?”
“Is there anything else you need to tell me?” The editor enunciated the sentence with a pause after each word.
“Only that I’ll probably stay in Barcelona for a couple of days. See if I can figure something else about what happened to Leonardo.”
“That sounds like a sensible idea.” There was no higher praise from executive editor Julie McQueen than being called sensible.
“Will you let me know if you need me back in London?”
“Of course. Right, speak soon.”
Julie hung up and Sol remained in the middle of their kitchen, her cell phone still on her ear while she checked Luke out—he’d taken over her tea preparations on the counter.
It was almost bizarre how she’d had this apartment for many years, always considered it her own, but now thought about it as their place in Barcelona.
“All good?” He turned to her with an almost blinding smile.
“Yes, but I’m going to need you to put some clothes on.” She hated having said those words.
Luke’s smile became mischievous. “Why?”
“Because I have to write a fifteen-hundred-word profile before the end of the day and there’s no way I’ll be able to do any work with you looking like that.” She made a circular move with her palm in Luke’s direction.
The smile was now wolfish. “Looking like what?”
She exhaled deeply. “Like a six-foot-plus British Italian hunk who spends way too much time running, and doing hardcore yoga. T-shirt. Now. Please?”
“Only because you insist.” He placed the teakettle on the stove to heat and left the room.
He came back a few minutes later showered and dressed in his signature dark jeans and T-shirt.
“Tea is ready,” Sol told him, handing him a cup of strong English Breakfast and nibbling on some whole wheat toast.
“You are aware you made me dress but you’re the one still half naked, right?” Luke’s grin was back.
Sol checked herself. She was wearing nothing but one of his T-shirts. Her right shoulder was uncovered where the neckline had slipped. She smiled.
“You’re lucky because Divya and I have a very early interview.” He moved in and whispered in her ear. “We’ll have to talk about this appalling double standard when I come back tonight.”
A tingling rush shot down her spine. She couldn’t wait for the day to be over.