Epilogue
Two years later, Ibiza
Oh my God, Mia! I’m screaming, barely able to stop myself from jumping up and down with excitement. It’s Ed de Vries!
Ed de who? Mia asks, following my gaze to discover a man sitting in the lounge nook with a view of the sea.
He’s wearing glasses with thick, black frames, his arm casually draped over the back of the lounge set.
Purrito, no longer the underweight kitten he once was, has flopped over on his back next to him, letting Ed pet his belly.
With every stroke, the cat emits that all too familiar engine sound, significantly louder than it used to be now that Purrito’s voice box has increased in size along with the rest of his body.
Ed flashes his white teeth in a smile that would make any warm-blooded woman’s heart beat a little faster.
Ed de Vries, I hiss again. You know, that street performer who won that Dutch singing competition a few years ago? I’ve played his songs for you! You know, Walking Home, Touch the Moon, ...
Her face lights up in recognition. Oh! It’s Ed!
I shake my head with a chuckle. Even though he’s been getting some Spanish radio play, he hasn’t quite broken through the way he has back home in the Netherlands.
Okay, you’re definitely fangirling more than I am. How about you go take his order? Mia pats me on the shoulder and heads over to check on some other guests.
I straighten my apron and try to approach him as professionally as possible, as if Dutch celebrities appear on our patio every single day. Good afternoon, what can I get for you today? My voice is shaky with suppressed excitement.
Ed gives me a huge smile.
Afternoon to you, too! What do you recommend? he asks me in the voice I recognize from the radio.
One in a Melon is my favourite from the smoothie list. Or if you’re feeling hungry, I also highly endorse the Purrito Bowl or the You Make Miso Happy. That last one’s vegetarian.
Ed taps a finger on the menu as he contemplates his options. Hmm, let’s try that smoothie and a You Make Miso Happy, please.
Putting his menu down on the table, he glances around as I punch his choices into the new software that fires off orders straight to the bar and the kitchen.
This place is fantastic, he compliments me. Have you worked here long?
Thank you, I reply proudly. My cousin and I actually just took over the business from my grandparents when they retired this summer.
Oh, so you live in Ibiza full-time, he says cheerfully. That sounds glorious. I’m only here for a few days for work, but I think I’ll bring my wife back for a vacation some day.
Sounds like a plan. I’ve never met anyone who didn’t love Ibiza, I say with a wink, before turning around to head back to the bar to pick up some drinks from Emilia.
Karel has taken over from Abuela in the kitchen and she trained him so well that his tapas are barely distinguishable from the ones she makes—not that anyone would dare say so out loud.
The rest of the day is busy, but I’m loving it. It feels incredible to rush around, talk to people, and have fun with my coworkers.
But the best part of my day has to be coming home. Even a celebrity encounter with Ed de Vries can’t beat that.
Pulling my jeep into the driveway of our home, I can spot Elias’s Land Rover parked below the massive palm tree off to the side.
As soon as I walk through the door, I’m met by the delicious aromas of his cooking swirling through the air.
I close my eyes and inhale deeply as I creep towards the kitchen, slide up behind him, and circle my arms around his waist.
Hey, I say, kissing him on the back.
Elias spins around in my arms and looks at me with a massive smile on his face. Hey, he replies before kissing me. Will you carry the plates outside for me? Food’s ready.
I walk ahead of him onto the huge balcony with a gorgeous view of the green treetops lining the sloping mountainside.
The crystal clear sea water glistens in the background while the colour of the sun begins to shift to orange.
When I put the plates down on the table, a gentle breeze teases through my hair.
Elias already brought the wine out, too.
He sets down the enormous pan of pasta and uncorks one of the bottles of wine his grandparents gifted us last Christmas.
How was your day? I ask him as he divides the red liquid between our glasses.
Great! There were nine people in my group today, all advanced. They loved the dive out by the Don Pedro shipwreck.
His eyes almost always sparkle when he talks about work these days.
Obviously, not every day is sunshine and roses, but that happens in any job.
When Elias told his father about a year ago that he didn’t want to keep running Los Castillos, his reaction wasn’t anything like he feared it would be.
He was actually really encouraging of Elias’s plan to start up his own diving academy.
Andrés was the one who struggled the most with the change.
He was really wrapped up in the prestige of running a family-owned company and had a rough time watching his little brother step away from the business.
We all got an earful of his thoughts on the matter when he got himself extremely drunk at last year’s Christmas dinner.
There wasn’t much he could do about it, of course, but I wonder whether he’ll ever really accept Elias’s decision.
When he inquires about my day, I give him a detailed account of my rendezvous with the Ed de Vries. When I’m finally all talked out, one side of his mouth tugs up.
Yikes, should I be worried about competition? he chuckles, raising his glass.
I follow his lead, clinking my glass against his before getting up to give him a playful look and a kiss.
A kiss that ends up lasting a lot longer than I planned because Elias’s lips are skilled in ways I never could have imagined.
Slightly out of breath, I sit back down in my chair and when I gaze over at him, I feel a familiar warmth spread through my chest.
Never, I say.