1 #3
A man called álvaro led the first part. Registering our teams, vehicle access, outside vendors. I made two notes and crossed out a third when he said they wanted to limit deliveries to mornings.
I looked up.
“That won’t work for the cakes.”
álvaro paused.
“What would the issue be?”
I turned to my schedule.
“Some of my deliveries are at four in the afternoon. I do part of the assembly here. If I come at nine, I’ll need dedicated refrigeration and a separate space away from lunch prep. That wasn’t available at the site visit.”
Elisa nodded.
“That’s why we arranged for afternoon deliveries through the side entrance.”
“We could give you space in the main walk-in,” álvaro suggested.
“I’d have to see where. I can’t leave a finished cake unprotected with other food being moved around it. I need to see the space before I can agree.”
My voice grew steadier as I spoke. This could be fixed. This was a problem I understood.
“Then we keep the original delivery window until we have an alternative that works,” Dante said.
I turned to him without thinking.
He was looking at my schedule.
“Will that work?”
“If we have it in writing.”
“Elisa, include that in the minutes.”
She wrote it down. I went back to my schedule. Only then did I realize I’d stopped clutching the pen.
We went over access for Ivo, how long I’d need to assemble the cakes, where to keep the stands between events. The decorating vendor wanted the same work counter late in the afternoon. We found a way to share it. Teresa asked for advance permission to take equipment out after midnight.
For almost forty minutes, Dante hardly spoke.
I could feel him looking at me.
I hated that I could tell without turning my head.
Near the end, álvaro brought up standardizing payments and possibly moving some vendor contracts over to the hotel. I put the cap on my pen.
“My contract is with Trama. I’ll continue to discuss rates and payment dates with Teresa.”
“We’re only proposing it to simplify the process,” he said.
“It means changing who I’m doing business with after I’ve already put money into this.”
Teresa stepped in.
“We won’t be transferring any contracts this season. I’ll make the payments as agreed.”
Dante looked at her and nodded.
“All right.”
I waited for an argument that never came.
When Elisa closed the meeting, I stood too fast and caught my folder just before it slipped off the table. The man from the setup crew handed me a loose page. I thanked him. Teresa went to find out when Elisa would send the minutes.
Dante caught up with me before I reached the door.
“Can I talk to you?”
I held the folder against my chest.
“About the contract?”
“No.”
I looked over at Teresa, talking a few steps away. I wasn’t alone with him. My body hadn’t noticed; it was reacting as if everyone else had left.
“Then not here.”
He took a moment to answer.
“Where?”
“I haven’t agreed to talk about anything personal.”
His expression hardened. I knew that first hint of impatience. Once, I would have tried to smooth it over, to find a better way of explaining myself.
I stayed silent.
He drew a breath and shifted half a step aside, leaving me room to reach the door.
I left.
I found the restroom off the hall, checked that no one was in it, and put my folder on the counter. My hands were shaking again.
I turned on the faucet and waited for the water to run cold.
In the mirror I looked very serious, a strand of hair loose by my ear. I’d managed to talk about refrigeration. I’d managed to look at him. I hadn’t cried, hadn’t missed a single important thing in the meeting.
Even so, I had to stay there until I could draw a full breath without struggling.
My phone buzzed in my purse.
A message from Dalva. Bento had forgotten to ask about taking his cardboard cake to school on Friday. His teacher had said yes. All we needed was a bigger box.
I wrote back that I’d take care of it.
Then I read the message again.
A bigger box. That was what my son needed from me that morning.
I could get one.
Teresa was by the stairs when I came out. A little farther along, Dante was finishing a conversation with álvaro.
“Want me to walk you to the parking lot?” she asked.
“I took a rideshare.”
“I’ll drop you at the bakery. I have to go through Vila Mariana.”
I wasn’t sure she really did. I said yes before I could worry about it.
We went downstairs together. On the ground floor, Elisa called Teresa over to check the route for a truck delivering setup equipment. I waited by the exit and opened the app to keep my hands busy, though I wasn’t going to request a ride.
Dante stopped, leaving me room to walk past.
“I won’t hold you up.”
I put my phone away.
“What do you want?”
He glanced past me at the empty courtyard. When he looked back, he seemed less sure of himself than he had in the meeting.
“I didn’t know you worked with the event company.”
“You didn’t need to know.”
“I know.”
The way he said it made my face burn. Five years, and now he could agree to that much.
“If you’re concerned about the contract, what happened between us won’t affect it.”
“I want that in the minutes, along with the delivery window. I don’t need your personal assurance.”
He took the blow with the slightest nod.
“Understood.”
We could have left it there. Teresa was coming back. Her car was in the garage. I’d already gotten through the worst of the morning.
Then he said:
“I’d just like to understand why you took it.”
I looked at him.
“The contract?”
He said nothing.
The money.
He was asking about the money.
Anger came so fast I heard the folder crackle under my fingers.
“You still think I sold something of yours.”
“I’m asking.”
“Five years later.”
He didn’t answer.
But I could see the answer. In his face, in how carefully he was choosing his words. Here we were at a service entrance, and he was still deciding whether to believe me.
“It was a loan, Dante. I told you that at the altar.”
He looked down for a moment.
“There was a payment…”
“And I paid it back.”
Dante looked up.
I stopped.
I saw his expression change before I understood why.
“You paid it back?”
“Every cent. Eighteen installments. I have the receipts.”
He looked at me as though he didn’t have an answer ready.
“Who did you pay?”
“I sent it to the account your brother listed on the receipt.”
Teresa came up beside me. I kept my eyes on him.
“Cecília? We can go now.”
I nodded.
Dante took one step, then stopped.
“I didn’t know.”
I almost laughed—an ugly, tired laugh I managed to hold back.
“You could have asked.”
I got into Teresa’s car with the folder on my lap.
She offered me water. I took it, sipping slowly as we drove away. Only then did I realize I wasn’t thinking about seeing him again.
I was thinking about his face when I told him I’d paid the money back.
For the first time that morning, he’d looked truly surprised.