Chapter 8
The Fine Print
Holly
There’s a knock on the front door and I open it wide to see Mateo’s smiling face waiting for me.
His hands are tucked in his jeans pockets, and his heather gray t-shirt fits him perfectly.
He rocks on his heels as I take him in, and it’s only when his smile grows wider that I realize that, instead of welcoming him inside, I've just been staring at him.
I clear my throat. “Hi, Mateo.”
There’s a dimple in his cheek that deepens despite the trim beard he sports. “Hi, Holly.”
“Come on in.” I step back as he steps forward and we do an awkward dance around each other as he comes inside. My palms are sweaty, which is ridiculous because this is not my first time being around Mateo. I wipe my hands on my pencil skirt, and straighten my lilac colored blouse. “Follow me.”
He nods and falls into step behind me.
“I’m sure you’ve figured out the layout of the house by now. I noticed last night that you claimed the spare room closest to the garage.”
I glance back at him and catch him running his fingers through his curly hair, increasing its volume.
“Yeah, I figured you wouldn’t mind. I wanted to take the one farthest from your room and closest to the workshop so I’m not disturbing your peace more than I already am.”
The considerate gesture sends a few butterflies in motion. I have three spare bedrooms, which I cleaned out so he could have his pick. I thought he’d choose one with an ocean view, not the driveway.
“Thank you for your thoughtfulness,” I say as I open the door to my office.
This room is one I would never give up. The floor to ceiling windows perfectly display the view of the greenery in the backyard and the ocean in the background.
I take in my office as Mateo walks in. My curiosity is piqued and I wonder what stands out to him.
Is it the dark wood desk that has my double monitor set up in the middle of the room? My extra cushioned office chair, which I paid an obscene amount for so that I could be comfortable, is sure to raise some questions. Or maybe he can’t tell that it’s hand stitched leather.
The small couch by the window with the shag rug and small coffee table catches my eye next. He definitely wouldn’t be comfortable sleeping there during a mid-afternoon work slump.
Mateo walks to my desk and runs his fingers along the line of metal, then steps toward the windows.
My robot vacuum turns on by a fake tree in the corner, making him startle.
A giggle escapes my mouth, and I turn away as Mateo looks back at me.
I’ve affectionately named my vacuum Mo, and he starts his route around the room as he normally does every day at eleven in the morning.
I close the office door and walk to the closet hidden behind the fake tree. I pull out a folding office chair and roll it to my desk. The chair goes next to mine, and I wiggle my computer mouse, my monitors coming to life.
“How do you get anything done with a view like this?” he asks.
I look over, but instead of the ocean view, my eyes focus on the striking silhouette that is Mateo standing before the windows. He’s tall and well built, and my heart races at the thought of being married to him. He’s a hunky piece of arm candy.
I shake my head. I need to stop thinking like that if I’m going to keep things platonic between us. I told Alex there wouldn’t be any romance, and I intend to keep that promise, no matter how badly my fingers itch to lose themselves in Mateo’s curls.
I shrug. “I’ve become spoiled. The view is amazing, but it doesn’t capture me quite as much as it used to when I first bought the house. I also have those shades at the top of the windows that come down when the sun wants to blind me.”
His curls bob as he nods. Mateo turns back, quickly notices the chair and walks over to it. He sits and props his ankle up on his knee as he leans back, his hands folded across his stomach. “Let’s get started.”
I quickly pull up the courthouse website and find the forms for a marriage license. I scan the schedule for availability to get married tomorrow. There’s one slot left in the afternoon. I quickly click on it and begin filling in the information to reserve it.
Mateo clears his throat, and I look over, my fingers stilling on the keyboard. “Yes?”
“Do you need me to do anything?”
I look from him to my screens and back. “This part is just the paperwork. I definitely need you to answer some questions for me, though. By the way, we’re getting married tomorrow at two.”
He takes the news in stride, and manages a small smile. “Okay. Keep doing your thing.”
I continue filling out the forms. It’s quiet, and I’m glad Mateo isn’t trying to keep up a conversation. This is one of those moments when I feel at one with my computer and everything is flowing and I can focus.
A few minutes later, I ask him some questions and he tells me the information.
Less than ten minutes later, it’s done. All we have to do is show up at the courthouse with our identification tomorrow and we’ll be set.
I lean back in my seat. “Done.”
Mateo shakes his head. “Not done. You’re going to fill out a restraining order that we can turn in at the courthouse tomorrow.”
I freeze, my thoughts sluggish as I try to decipher his words. “What?”
“I looked it up. You can print out the restraining order forms here and fill them out. Tomorrow we can go to the courthouse early and turn them in and they’ll get started on the process of issuing a restraining order against Jorge.”
Mateo’s brown eyes stare into mine as the words run through my mind twice and then a third time, before I can grab onto reality again.
“I told you that the police couldn’t press charges because he left and didn't do any damage or threaten me physically.”
Mateo’s smile is soft as his head tips down. “I know. But you have enough evidence with your text messages and his verbal threats to make a good case against him. I’m also going to talk to your security company this weekend and have them install more cameras around the property.”
“You don’t even know what company I use.”
He shrugs. “You’re right, but I figure you’ll tell me if I promise that I’ll be the one to talk to them for you.”
I narrow my eyes at him. How has Mateo already picked up on my distaste when it comes to conflict and asking for help?
Oh yeah, that’s why we’re in this mess in the first place. My avoidance strategy is really backfiring and Mateo totally is seeing through me… again.
I huff. “Fine. I’ll fill out the paperwork and you get to call the security company.”
His smile is contagious and I can’t help but look for the little dimple in his cheek again. Somehow, the dimple is reassuring that he’s actually happy and not just faking it.
Mateo doesn’t feel fake.
I turn back to the computer and quickly pull up the needed paperwork, print it, open my desk drawer and search for my favorite pen.
“I’m proud of you, Holly.”
I look up from where I’m shuffling around papers to locate my pen to find Mateo leaning toward me.
“I’m proud of you for doing something hard and taking action, against Jorge.
He’s threatened you, and this could get out into the news, but your safety is more important.
I wish more people made the hard choices that kept them safe rather than the ones that kept their reputation intact.
You deserve to be comfortable in your home, and while doing your job. Every woman deserves that.”
I blink away the stinging behind my eyes.
“Thank you.” I whisper. The rest of the words I want to say lodge themselves in my throat.
How do you thank your knight in shining armor? How do you tell him how grateful you are for taking a chance and changing his life for a damsel in distress?
I hate feeling like a damsel in distress.
I wish I could be fearless and full of confidence, like my brother. Instead, I mask my insecurities with perfectly fitting clothes, fake bravado, high heels, and an enormous house.
I grab the pen from the drawer and fill out the paperwork. Mateo is silent beside me and eventually gets out of his chair and walks back to the windows. I take my time, detailing everything that has happened and printing out Jorge's messages as evidence.
I shudder as I read his latest text threat. It’s different seeing it on black-and-white paper. It suddenly feels more real.
“It would be horrible if people found out that Alexander Kingston is cheating on his wife with an intern… that is… if the rumors are true. Can’t wait for our next date, Holly.”
I place the paper on the top of the stack of text threats and quickly cover it with the other papers I’ve filled out. My stomach churns at the thought of the damage a simple rumor could do to Alex’s career. Jorge could ruin years of work with a simple fake exposé to a popular magazine.
My pulse races, and my mind begins another depressing spiral. I look away from the papers and refocus, reminding myself I’m taking steps to fight back and prevent all the threats from actually happening.
My gaze lands on Mateo and peace spreads through my chest.
A quick glance at the clock above the couch, and I realize it’s been over an hour and a half since Mateo got here. He’s been so quiet as I’ve filled out paper after paper.
My stomach growls. I only managed to force down a slice of toast this morning. My anxiety-induced nausea made it impossible to eat more, knowing Mateo would be coming over today.
I set my pen down, straighten my papers, and spin my chair toward Mateo.
“Do you want to go get lunch?”
His smile is instantaneous. “Absolutely. Do you like sandwiches? Reina told me I need to try a sandwich at Mendocino Farms.”
“Considering it has the word ‘farm’ in it, you definitely need to have a sandwich from there. Alex and I would go there often after I first bought my house. It’s a favorite of mine.”
He slaps his hands on his knees before standing. “What are we waiting for? There’s a sandwich calling my name.” He walks to the door and opens it for me. “My lady,” he says with a mock bow in my direction as he gestures out the door.
I can’t help but grin. I never thought I’d be glad to marry a farm boy who suggests sandwiches instead of caviar, but I find that I am.