Chapter 15 #2
Grace walked home at a leisurely pace, enjoying the sounds and smells of Granada at night.
The scent of roasted chestnuts from a place down the road wafted through the air.
Ever since the weather had turned and they’d started selling them at that stall, Grace insisted on making the chestnuts part of her weekly schedule.
She’d developed a routine the last couple of weeks that didn’t involve hiding in her bed and sulking.
She had favorite places—Carmen de los Martires Park and the specialty coffee place a few streets from the apartment.
She’d even started spending time with some of her colleagues outside of mandatory faculty meetings—taking walks around campus and chatting about their research.
She was building a life for herself here.
Of course, parts of her routine were spent with Rafael—breakfast at the counter in the mornings, evening strolls, relaxing on the couch after dinner. She didn’t want to screw those parts up by complicating their relationship.
When she walked into the apartment, Rafael was lounging on the sofa with a thick book in his hands. She tried to act normal, like it was any other night after she returned home from work, and it seemed like he was willing to follow her lead.
He sat up while she unwrapped the scarf from her neck. “How did it go?” he asked.
“Great. Twelve students.”
“Twelve? For a non-mandatory school event? They really do adore you.”
Grace blushed thinking of the last time they’d had this conversation, right before she’d kissed him, but she shrugged and tried to play it cool. “What can I say? Art is fun.”
“Did you meet Marco’s mother?”
Grace grinned, pleased he’d remembered that part of the plan. “I did, and she was lovely. Marco showed me more of her work. You wouldn’t believe how brilliant it is, Raf. I honestly think she might be my favorite artist now.”
Rafael smirked up at her. “You’d throw over Picasso that quickly?”
She laughed. “You know I’d throw him over in a heartbeat. Though it was exciting to see his work in real life like that in the cave.”
Grace tried to keep herself from turning a deeper shade of red.
The cave. Where they’d made out, surrounded by priceless pieces of artwork.
Good gracious, she wanted to do it again.
And sometimes she wondered why she didn’t.
Yes, she wanted to heed Alma’s warning, and she was sure Alma was right, that Rafael was only interested in one thing, but, honestly, who cared if it was just one single night?
She would take it. She was sure it would be worth it.
Though there was a significant part of her that worried even one night would change things between them, that it would change things with Alma, too.
She worried that Raf wouldn’t talk to her like this anymore, that he wouldn’t lecture her about Spanish architecture or the history of Granada any longer.
Most of all, she worried that she liked him far too much.
She wanted to spend more time with him, even if it was a terrible idea.
There was still a lot to do in the museum, and after seeing all the artwork there, she was starting to believe Rafael’s confidence in her wasn’t entirely misplaced.
“I was thinking,” Grace started, hesitating a moment to find the right words.
She’d been loath to be involved with Christian’s exhibit, and now she was completely shifting her position.
“I know I’ve technically completed my end of the bargain.
We’ve been to Sacromonte twice, but there is still so much I wasn’t able to see or organize yet.
Maybe we could go again, so I could see things coming together a bit more.
And it would give me a chance to speak with Christian to try to convince him to do something more for the region. ”
Rafael looked up at her, some measure of surprise written across his face. “Actually, I did bring that up with him, and he wants to hear more about your ideas. We’d love for you to be more involved.”
“Really?”
“Of course. Christian was impressed with you, and he respects your opinions.”
“Well, maybe I could come with you then, next time you go out there.”
“That sounds reasonable,” Rafael said. “Tomorrow?”
Was she imagining it or did he sound eager?
Maybe he was picturing a repeat of the last time they’d been there alone together, even if he seemed perfectly fine with keeping his distance lately.
He was probably sick of the back and forth of it all, anyway.
Why waste his time with Grace, when he could easily find a sure thing?
He must have just been relieved to have more help when he had no clue where to put all those Picassos, but Grace found herself wishing it was something else, something that had little to do with a nineteenth-century painter or an underground museum.
“Tomorrow works.”
The drive to Sacromonte already felt so familiar.
Riding in Raf’s passenger seat felt familiar too, even if the proximity of his fingers to her thigh made her breath hitch.
He wasn’t even doing anything, just resting a hand on the center console, but she could feel it there during every mile, like it was radiating pulsing waves.
“Christian will be there today, so it’s the perfect time to make your pitch.”
“Great,” Grace said, but she could hear the tone in her voice, and it didn’t sound convincing.
“Don’t be nervous. He’s a reasonable man.”
Grace looked down to see her fingers fidgeting in her lap. She wasn’t nervous about that. She could handle Christian, but she didn’t want to explain the true cause of her nerves, especially when she was trying so hard to stop thinking about it.
When they arrived, Raf dashed off to the biggest room to speak with some of the contractors about the walls they’d built and to ensure they had the correct hardware to hang the paintings, leaving her to talk to Christian.
Christian was jovial, as always, and so she tried to keep her tone light, like this was just a fun random idea she had about how they could make the event more community-friendly.
It didn’t take long to make her case for opening the exhibition to locals in addition to the plaque about the history of the caves and the fund to support the community and restore some of the other caves.
She suggested making a donation to the historical museum in Sacromonte as well, a place that focused solely on the history of the caves and people who’d lived there for centuries.
Christian readily agreed to anything that involved writing a check.
He clearly wasn’t worried about that part of the equation since it was an easy solution for him.
It was opening the underground exhibit up to the community that was a sticking point, but he said he would think more about it, at least.
He scratched the top of his head and eyed her curiously. “Surely, Rafael has mentioned that part of the appeal of this place is the secrecy. It’s not to be advertised or featured in magazines. I don’t want the word to spread too far.”
“Rafael explained that,” Grace said, trying to keep her fingers still. “But it wouldn’t have to be all the time,” Grace said. “Perhaps on special occasions? That might offer some level of legitimacy.”
“Hmmm,” Christian stared off into the distance, considering.
“I will keep thinking about it, as I said. That’s all I’ll promise for now, but it might be a good idea.
You know, I might even like to look at some of the local artists to display.
Maybe have a small showcase of some work coming from this area. ”
Grace nodded, surprised to hear him suggest such an idea.
It was more than she’d hoped for when trying to come up with ways to incorporate the local community.
Whatever else he was—hideously rich, entirely used to getting his own way—Grace couldn’t deny that Christian loved the art.
Picasso and Matisse, sure, but it didn’t seem to be all in the name for Christian.
He could appreciate good work, no matter the painter, and he clearly enjoyed sharing it with others.
“Anyway, Senorita,” Christian said, obviously changing the subject. “How are your classes? Do you enjoy teaching at the university?”
Grace paused, considering her answer. Though he’d been nothing but warm toward her, Grace still felt uncomfortable chatting with a billionaire, especially when she knew how easily he got whatever he wanted, as if he could hold the world in his hand and shape it to his will.
She knew how Rafael worked to please him, how hard he worked to make sure Christian got his way.
She also found it hard to believe Christian was all that interested as she rambled on about her students and their interests, about how she’d taken the job with a sense of desperation.
Did Christian know what it was like to lose everything, to log into a checking account with an impending sense of doom?
Could he imagine starting over in a new place, just hoping for a chance to find a new life?
Grace had been so unlucky and then so lucky in a way that didn’t quite balance out exactly, but it still counted for something.
She loved the university. And she loved Granada.
“Very much, actually,” she said finally.
“I couldn’t have wished for a better position. ”
“And what about Rafael?” Christian asked. He’d surprised her again by listening with some level of sympathy and interest. “He’s treating you right?”
“Oh—um—yes.” Grace looked down and rubbed her palms against her slacks. “I mean, we’re just temporary roommates. I’ll move out soon. And we’re friends.”
“I didn’t realize you were living together,” Christian commented, rubbing the scruff of his beard. “How interesting.”
Grace coughed and avoided his gaze, ignoring his implications. “Oh, we’re not really living together. It’s just a short-term arrangement.”