Chapter 20
I decline when Elias offers to take me home.
I’ve recovered from my minor brush with death and all I really want to do is to savour this rare day off.
He looks doubtful, but ultimately agrees to stay out on the water, under the one condition that I wear the orange life vest that’s tucked under the bench.
When I open my mouth to protest, he raises his eyebrows and says, I also have my niece’s glittery pink arm floaties here, if you’d rather wear those.
I snap my mouth shut and put on the life vest.
We sail along the water at a leisurely pace, but every time a big wave jostles Usain Boat up and down, Elias glances anxiously over his shoulder at me to make sure I haven’t been dumped overboard.
I’d usually be irritated by this overprotective vibe, but in this case, coming from him, it’s kind of cute.
Where are we going? I ask him, after he’s verified for the millionth time that I really am feeling okay now.
He looks at me over his shoulder again with a mysterious smile on his lips. It’s a surprise.
As we slowly approach the Ibiza coastline, I realize there’s no sign of life on this side of the island. Not a white house or reddish-brown roof tile in sight. No beaches packed with tourists out scorching in the sun.
When Elias turns off the engine and drops the anchor back into the water, I notice we’ve stopped at a minuscule beach at the foot of an enormous cliff.
The sand-coloured rock face is overgrown with tiny plants and loose pebbles are scattered around the area.
Aside from the gentle sloshing sound of the boat and the odd chirp of a bird, it’s completely silent here.
Speechless, I stare in awe at this pristine little slice of Ibiza.
It must be one of the only spots on the island that hasn’t been taken over by the tourist masses planting their beach umbrellas into the sand as a way of staking their claim on this tiny patch of natural beauty. My jaw drops.
Holy shit, I screech. I’m yelling slightly louder than my dry throat can manage, which in turn makes me cough. Holy shit, I repeat, a little more quietly this time. How is it not packed with people here?
Elias pulls out a large bag from the storage space under the benches and flings it over his shoulder.
You can only get here by boat, he replies with a crooked grin.
Most tourists don’t have one. It’s also so small that it’s hard to spot when you’re scouting out beaches on a map. I hope it stays like this forever.
He jumps off the boat and into the water, the waves gently swishing around his waist. Come on. It’s not deep.
I grab hold of his outstretched hand, but hesitate, not quite ready to take the leap.
Elias gives my hand an encouraging squeeze. When you fall off a horse, the trick is to get right back on before you lose your nerve. Same goes for swimming.
At his words, I splash into the lukewarm water.
I let out a relieved breath when I feel the ground beneath my feet before wading up onto the little beach.
It’s remarkable to see a beach that’s so clean.
Zero litter. Not a trace of stubbed out cigarettes or empty cans.
The warm, white sand sticks to my feet. I toss my life vest down onto the beach and stretch out my body from head to toe.
Elias pulls a huge blue beach towel from his bag and spreads it out, scattering the sand as the cotton towel floats down and lands on the ground.
I sit down cross-legged while Elias opens a bottle of red wine, pouring it into two massive glasses before handing me one of them. He keeps his eyes locked on my face as he clinks his glass against mine.
Cheers.
When I take a sip, a delighted moan escapes from my lips. Caught off guard, I open my eyes wide. Until this very moment, I never understood why wine connoisseurs would describe their elixir of choice with the same words they might use for their perfect date, like elegant or smooth.
This is extremely delicious. I give Elias a look of surprise and he meets my enthusiasm with a contented chuckle. Where did you get this?
Leaning back, his tanned, tattooed arm flexes when he shifts his full weight onto it before taking a sip.
My grandparents have a vineyard in Andalusia, he replies.
“They’re well into their nineties now and they sold quite a few acres of their land before retiring, but these days they still bottle some wine for their personal cellar.
They tend to bring a few bottles along whenever they come to visit.
I take another sip, then lick my lips. Wow. I would probably even entertain the idea of marrying his brother if it came with the promise of in-laws who would hook me up with some of this wine from time to time. Is that where you’re from? Andalusia?
He shakes his head. No. Just my dad. He moved to Ibiza when he realized how much opportunity there was in the growing tourism industry on the island. He founded Los Castillos, but went into early retirement a while ago. That’s when Andrés and I took over the business.
His face twists for a fraction of a second at his last sentence. Changing positions, he takes another gulp from his glass.
I study him closely before asking, Did you... want to take over the company? Or is this an ‘I’m trapped in a gilded cage and a diamond straitjacket, but I want nothing more than to be free’ kind of situation?
Elias lets out a little chuckle. It sounds just as fake as Madonna’s auto-tuned voice did when she performed at the 2019 Eurovision Song Contest. It wipes the playful grin from my face and a heavy feeling settles into my belly.
Of course I did. Anyone would kill to work for a company like this one.
It’s an incredible oppor... He stops himself mid-sentence and puts his glass down in the sand.
A brief silence falls between us as he stares out into the setting sun.
It’s transforming the sky into a blend of reds, oranges, and yellows.
Elias looks down and gives his head a shake so small it’s nearly invisible.
No, he finally continues. No, I didn’t want to.
He lets out a disbelieving chuckle, massaging his forehead with his thumb and index finger.
I’ve never had the guts to say that out loud before.
His brown eyes are vulnerable when he looks at me.
He seems worried that I would think less of him for wanting to quit a job that brings him wealth and status.
Which couldn’t be any further from the truth.
Why? I ask, still feeling guilty about my careless joke.
He shrugs in a helpless gesture. Everyone around me was acting as if it was the world’s greatest gift when my father left us the company two years ago.
Like I was supposed to be grateful for the honour.
He lets out a deep sigh. Andrés had already been there for years, but I was spending most of my time anywhere except in Ibiza.
He points at his arm. I went diving in Australia, off the coast of Egypt in the Red Sea, in Thailand.
.. I was living the dream. Sure, I always intended to come back home to Ibiza eventually, but the plan was to do something with this passion I discovered during my travels.
It’s never been my ambition to fill the whole island with resorts and restaurant chains.
Real estate and everything that comes along with it, wasn’t exactly my area of interest.
I gaze at him with softness in my eyes. His expression is tense and his jaw muscles won’t stop twitching.
My parents never put those kinds of heavy expectations on me, but I understand why he feels so torn.
When I was younger, I had really wanted to study Spanish.
But some friends and relatives had this twisted idea that getting a Spanish degree would just be an education in partying, so I ended up in business economics instead.
It’s so hard to figure out what you really want from life without letting other people’s opinions stand in your way. Elias is one of the lucky ones who has found his passion, but he’s being held back by someone who should want him to thrive and do what he loves most.
Elias takes two huge gulps of wine. Honestly, until you came into the office to yell at me and pointed out those ridiculous terms in your loan agreement, I didn’t even know Andrés had put those in there.
He gives me an apologetic look, seeming slightly ashamed of himself.
Not that I would have admitted it at the time, but.
.. Project development is my responsibility, so why didn’t I have a clue what was in those contracts?
It’s painfully unprofessional. With Andrés in charge of acquisition, my role is to lead projects from start to finish.
When I confronted him with the details of your contract, he told me he’s never acted on that clause before and has no intention of doing so in the future.
He said he just added it in as an extra motivator for lenders to repay their loans on time.
He chuckles again. He was pretty pissed off that I’d granted you that deferral, but it was obviously too late for him to do anything about it.
His expression is warm. It’s wild how quickly you’ve been able to turn the restaurant around and make it profitable again.
Andrés told me I should offer you a job.
We both burst out laughing at the thought.
Thanks, but no thanks, I chuckle, then turn serious. Couldn’t you just share all of this with your father? I suggest. Explain that this isn’t what you want to do for the rest of your life? Maybe he’ll listen. I’m sure all he wants is for you to be hap...
Elias looks at me with an overly sweet expression on his face, like I just transformed into a baby koala before his very eyes.
What? I ask, slightly annoyed.
You clearly haven’t met my father, he replies in a tone that suggests I shouldn’t want to, either. He’s drawn to status and power. How would his golf club buddies react if he told them his youngest son was a diving instructor? He exhales heavily. No, there’s no way he’d understand.
Biting my lip, I look at Elias. His expression is tense and, as much as he tries to hide it, I can still see the sadness in his eyes.
Would that honestly be worse than all the pressure you’re under now? The long days you spend doing the kind of work that just drains you of all your energy?
When he doesn’t answer, I continue. To quote the decorative tile hanging in my grandparents’ washroom, ‘Doing what you love is freedom. Loving what you do is happiness.’ And I have a feeling you’re not experiencing either one of those right now.