Chapter Thirty Octavia
Thirty
Octavia
Bubbles and Swaddles had nailed it.
It was clear the owner, Kyla, was doing great things with her company, because we were now all staring up at one of the New York billboards with her brand’s name on it.
Thousands of people would walk past this. Thousands would see the photo of the famous Javier Valdez holding Aleesa, who wore a hooded towel and was cheesing from ear to ear.
In the image, Javier smiled at his daughter, holding her close, as illustrated bubbles floated around them. His signature was stamped in the bottom right corner.
Far below the billboard and at just the right angle, I took a few pictures of Javier with Aleesa on his shoulders. Both of them wore big, eager smiles. They were so cute together, really. And he made such a great father.
I captured more photos of him with his mom and sister included, then a few candid shots of Aleesa, who did several princess poses with duck lips. I swear I loved that little girl.
When we all had had enough, we found an Argentinean bakery within walking distance, to catch a coffee and a quick sit-down.
“Ever had a canoncito?” Javier asked, offering me a flaky cream-filled pastry.
“No, but it looks good,” I said, taking it graciously. “What’s in it?”
“It is filled with dulce de leche. It is very good, especially when it is warm.”
Excited, I bit into it, and the flavors instantly burst on my tongue. “Oh wow.”
“Right?” Javier grinned.
“Oh yeah. This is amazing.” It was perfectly flaky, with a hint of butter that melted on my tongue. And the filling was creamy and sweet but not overly so.
He handed Aleesa a palmerita and was about to sit when his phone rang. Withdrawing the phone from his pocket, he checked the screen, then blew a slightly agitated breath. “I have to take this. Keep an eye on her?”
“Of course.”
He cut his eyes to our left, looking at Paola and Catalina, who were leaving the counter with their orders.
“Be right back,” he said, then walked out of the bakery.
I watched as he marched back and forth in front of the window with the phone glued to his ear.
“So, how long?” Catalina’s voice caught me off guard as she twisted one of the chairs at my table around and sat on it backward. She rested one arm on top of the chair while biting into a frosted chocolate doughnut.
“How long what?” I asked.
“How long have you and my brother been sleeping together?”
My heart dropped. I swear it felt like it was sitting in the pit of my stomach now. “Um . . . I—I don’t know what you mean, Catalina.”
She smiled behind another bite. “You know exactly what I mean.”
I pressed my lips, looking from her to Paola, who was coming our way. She zeroed in on me, and my heart shot back up into my rib cage and pounded dangerously hard.
“I had a feeling.” Catalina shrugged. “And for the record, I’m not angry about it.”
“You’re not?” A whisper of relief filled my veins.
“Hell, no. If anything, this is good for my brother. Maybe not the fact that you’re Aleesa’s nanny, because that’s stereotypical as hell, but still . . . I think this is good. Even better because I actually like you.”
Paola took the seat across from Aleesa, diagonal from me. “What are we talking about?” she asked, dumping a packet of sugar into her coffee.
“How happy Javier has been lately,” Catalina answered.
“Hmm.” Paola made a face as she began stirring her coffee with a wooden stick. “I am not sure if it is true happiness he shares with her.”
“Má,” Catalina said with a sigh. “We talked about this.”
“No, it’s okay, Catalina,” I interjected, holding a hand up. “I understand why she may not be happy about me and Javier’s situation.”
“Yes, because that is exactly what this is. A situation.” Paola’s voice was hard, the wrinkles around her mouth more visible.
“Yesterday, on the plane ride, I thought I was being crazy. He kept looking at you, and you kept looking at him. Then I see you this morning almost half naked under a robe, and . . . well, it was all very unprofessional. It became very clear that, yes, my son may be sleeping with this woman.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that. I mean, I could’ve cursed her out just for being rude about it, but I had respect for my elders. And she had every right to be upset that her widower son was sleeping with his nanny. Catalina was right. It was beyond stereotypical, but that’s just how it was.
Paola took advantage of my silence. “Are you using my son?”
My eyebrows stitched together so tight they may as well have conjoined. “What? Ms. Valdez, I would never use him or anyone.”
“Every woman says that.” She sniffed. “Look, I do not have a problem with you, Octavia. You are a great girl, and you take really good care of my granddaughter.” Her voice lowered as she pinned her cold brown gaze on me and leaned forward.
“But if I find out that you are using my son or manipulating him in any way, I will come after you myself.”
“Ms. Valdez, I promise you I would never—”
“?Mamá, basta!” Catalina hissed at her mother, with a hard glare. “Seriously. That is enough.”
Once again, Paola sniffed. Then she took a sip of her coffee.
I lowered my gaze to my lap. Half of me wanted to snap on her. The other half—the stronger part of me—chose to respect her. She was just being protective, and that was fine. She was a mom. He was her only son. I could understand. That didn’t give her the right to be a bitch to me, though.
“Do not take what she is saying the wrong way, Octavia.” Catalina reached across the table to touch my hand. “I personally think you should be proud,” she said with a small laugh. “Do you know how hard it is for a woman to make my brother happy?”
“What do you mean?” I found myself asking. “Wasn’t he happy with his wife?”
Catalina rolled her eyes while Paola scoffed.
“It is hard to be happy with someone who is not even happy with themselves,” Paola muttered, taking another swig of her brew.
Wait, wait, wait . . . what? “What are you talking about?” I looked between both women.
“What she means is, their marriage wasn’t as perfect as you might be thinking,” said Catalina.
“Exactly.” Paola placed her coffee down to fold her arms. “Eloise was a nice person, but she was not good for my Javier.”
“And deep down, I think he knew it,” Catalina added.
The bell above the front door chimed, and Javier entered the bakery again and meandered his way to our table. Catalina sat up taller, and Paola unfolded her arms.
His eyes locked on Aleesa first, and when he saw she was secure, he found me. There was light in his eyes and a faint smile gracing his lips.
“Gah, the way he looks at you.” Catalina shook her head as she rose out of his chair.
Paola stood as well, but before she passed me to reach one of the utensil stations, she leaned down and brought her mouth close to my ear.
“You better not break my son’s heart. Understand? He does not deserve that again.”
Again?
I blinked up at her, wanting to ask what she meant by that, but I didn’t have the chance. Javier was back, taking the seat Catalina had just risen from and picking up his canoncito.
“Great. It is cold now,” he grumbled.
“I need to peep!” Aleesa shouted.
Peep was what she said when she actually meant pee.
“Come on, love.” I grabbed her hand and escorted her to the bathroom, then let her do her business while I stood outside the stall. She hummed some random tune: such a young spirit, with no worries in the world. Meanwhile my mind was running wild with thoughts.
What did Paola mean when she said he didn’t deserve to be hurt again? What had his wife done that had hurt him? Or did she mean that because Eloise died, he was hurting?
I wasn’t sure, but something told me it had a deeper meaning than just his wife’s death. Something told me there had been a strain between him and Eloise that only Catalina and his mother knew about.
“Tava?” It was now I realized Aleesa had opened the stall. She stared up at me with big, curious green eyes. “What’s wrong, Tava?”
“Oh, it’s nothing, angel. Nothing. Come on. Let’s wash those hands.” I guided her to the sink, helped her wash up, then left the restroom.
Before I sat at the table with Javier again, I glanced at Paola. She sipped from a coffee cup, this time not appearing as stern as she regarded me. If anything, she seemed a bit remorseful and had more of an I did what I had to do to protect my family sense about her.
However, her eyes screamed one very specific thing.
Please do not break my son.