Chapter Four
“Wow!” Tonya said on the other end of the video chat. “That’s a hell of a view.”
Sandra nodded and looked over the pier she sat by down at the harbor. She was off her work for the day and watching the sun set over the pale, colonial-style buildings that rimmed the water. The sunlight danced on the eddies of the small waves, turning the royal blue water orange. The seagulls strolled past her and down to another tourist, one they could scam bread out of. The light summer breeze blew around her and she pulled her jacket more tightly around her arms. The first week in Barcelona had been busy, although by night she’d already seen a flamenco dancing club and taken a stroll across the La Rambla with all its tourist tents and shops. It was Thursday, and if Xavier hadn’t just been blowing smoke, he’d be taking her to see the Gaudí inspired sites around the city the next day.
She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
On one hand, he was as gorgeous and enticing as ever. She’d have to be crazy not to want to spend more time with him. Then again, Sandra knew that Xavier was her weakness. She just wanted to be near him and smell that cinnamon scent that seemed to emanate from his aftershave, burning her nose in all the right ways. If they spent the day together, she wasn’t sure she could keep it professional. She definitely didn’t know how well she could keep herself from falling for him all over again.
“And he doesn’t even remember me,” she muttered.
“Hello?” Tonya asked, waving her hand in front of the camera on her end. “You went all on with the hundred-yard stare and the mumbling. Are you okay? I know jet lag’s a bitch, but I thought you’d be over it four days in.”
“Oh, I feel a lot better than I did the first day. They always say don’t go to sleep, just jump into your routine. However, they don’t tell you that pulling a thirty-six-hour day just makes you crash harder. I don’t know how Xavier…um…Mr. Villalobos does it.”
“So, it’s Xavier now?” Tonya teased, drawing out the syllables of his name.
“It’s not like that. He did offer to take me to the Sagrada Família church and some other sites tomorrow in his free time. He said it would be a welcome break.”
Tonya chewed her bottom lip. “Cool.”
She narrowed her eyes at her friend. “That does not sound like ‘cool.’ It sounds like you want to say something, like you’re holding back.”
“I think it’s good. I think you could use some fun between the channel and the maid work.”
“Valet,” she corrected.
“You know what I mean. You’re a complete workaholic. Also, is the Big Boss cute?”
“He’s gorgeous. I’ve seen uglier male models, not gonna lie.”
“Yeah, could be fun. The one thing you’re not good at is keeping it casual, Sandra.”
“I could be!”
Tonya rolled her eyes. “Nope. You were thinking about wedding dresses after about two months with Zane, and we know that was a train wreck. Then you have that great, hot night with that guy at Atlantis. What was his name again?”
Sandra hoped she wasn’t blushing too brightly, although that was the curse of the redhead. “Um, you know. After he didn’t call…” Not that I gave him my number, exactly. “I worked to suppress his name.”
“Eventually.”
Well, not at all, but you’d absolutely murder me if you knew how well Xavier knows me.
“I know, but I’ve learned more. I’ve been burned twice lately, and I can have a good time with Xavier, see a church for God’s sake, and keep myself calm.”
“But he’s totally gorgeous, right?”
“Yes, but some of us, Tonya, aren’t walking bags of hormones.”
Her friend grinned back at her. “That’s a shame because you’re missing out. I’m trying to look out for my best friend. Don’t get too deep in, Sandra. Zane almost ruined you, and I don’t want you to have to work so hard to put the pieces back together again. Go, see what happens, and don’t expect more than a fling if it happens at all, okay?”
Sandra nodded and swallowed hard before she could speak. The truth was after that night at Atlantis, she’d been more obsessed with Xavier, the man who’d made her feel pleasure like she’d never known and whom she’d never thought she’d see again.
The man she was going to spend the day with tomorrow.
Man, she was so screwed, and not in the good way.
“Sandra?”
“Yeah, I will definitely follow your advice for not getting a broken heart.”
“Good, now you have a hot boss and a vacation in Europe. You have a good time, and, you know…don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“You’d get arrested in twenty states for some of the stunts you’ve pulled.”
Tonya grinned. “I know.” With that, she ended the call.
Sandra sighed and pulled the video camera from her day bag. There were pickpockets everywhere in Barcelona, and many were looking especially hard for oblivious Americans. She stuck out with her red hair. She’d been paranoid and gripping her bag tightly all night in order to protect her baby. Setting the camera up on its collapsible tripod, she started recording.
“Hey, Mistress fans. I’m coming to you live, so to speak, from Barcelona’s world-famous harbor…”
***
“I was almost afraid you would turn me down,” Xavier said.
She offered him a tight smile, trying to keep herself professional. Of course, if that was what Sandra was entirely after, she’d have worn khaki shorts or a dark pencil skirt and a professional, lightweight blouse. Instead, she’d put on a sundress patterned with red roses and a slight slit up the right side. She’d bought it the other day and fallen in love with it instantly because of its flamenco flare.
“I’d never miss this.”
“Then I’m glad, Jules.”
She blinked, dazzled by his smile for a beat, before remembering she was back to going under her alias, a name no one had really called her since middle school. “Great,” she said, recovering from her pause as best as she could. “Now, shall we get started?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” he replied, holding a crooked elbow out for her. “Please, follow me.”
She walked with him out of the hotel and to the street and then gulped. Sandra fervently hoped he hadn’t noticed her reaction. She’d assumed for some stupid reason that they’d take the metro like she’d been using to get around all week. How dense was she? Of course, Xavier Villalobos traveled in nothing less than a limo. That made her belly flare with warmth. It was like muscle memory. The last time she’d been in a limo with Xavier, she’d been the recipient of some truly mind-blowing orgasms.
The only saving grace she had to keep her from melting into a puddle right there was the fact there was no way it was the exact same limo.
“Are you okay, Jules?” he asked, concern coloring his words.
She nodded and stepped with him into the limo. The buttery leather was soft against her body, and again, memories of the last and only other time she’d ridden in one exploded across her memory—the feeling of his hands kneading her thighs, the flick of his tongue against her most sensitive lips, and the roughness of his stubble against her skin.
“Oh man.”
“You’re sure you’re ready for the Sagrada Família?” he asked.
“With you, Xavier, I’m not sure I’m ready for anything,” she said as the limo started down the ancient, cobblestone streets.
***
She’d always loved Gaudí’s style. Everything resembled fantastical gingerbread houses come to life, things from fantasy with bright colors and bulbous curves that didn’t seem to fit in the real world, as if they’d slipped into being from another dimension. There was something otherworldly about it. Not quite horrific, but definitely otherworldly in the designs. For a horror and fantasy buff like her, he’d always been a treat. Hell, if she had millions of dollars, she’d shoot all her movies in buildings or near structures he’d designed. She wasn’t sure why Hollywood directors didn’t. It would save a fortune on CGI when you had the perfect neo-gothic structures just waiting to be used.
Craning her neck up, she took in the sheer size of the cathedral before her. Seeing it in books or on the Web hadn’t prepared her. She felt like she was in Lord of the Rings and coming face to face with one of the two towers. Its large spires, shaped like honeycombs, reached into the sky. The main edifice almost seemed like the stone were melting in on itself; it was so irregular and bumpy from the myriad of statues of saints and angels on its front.
“It’s like out of a dream.”
“I used to think it was a nightmare,” he said. “When I was little, and we’d come to mass before we ended up in the States, I’d think that this was haunted. Maybe it was, although it’s not all that old. The building was started in 1882.”
“Started?” she asked.
“It won’t be finished to Gaudí’s specifications before 2026.”
She whistled as she fixed the silk scarf over her hair, a head covering she wore as a sign of respect for old world Catholic traditions. “He had a lot of specifications then. I’d seen the designs. I just never imagined something could take almost one hundred and fifty years to build.”
Xavier smirked. “Maybe that’s something he and I would have had in common. If you do something, then do it to the highest level. Be the best possible.”
Sandra sighed and thought about her life. She had some of the success she wanted, was close to her special silver button, but it wasn’t what she truly wanted. One day, she wanted her name in lights, wanted it to be said in the same breath as someone said Coppola (either of them) or Scorsese. At the end of the day, she was still famous for mocking other people’s work…well, as famous as one could be on the Internet, and was stuck spending her days cleaning toilets and scrubbing dishes.
“I think you should be the best too,” she echoed as they entered into the cathedral up its mountain of steps. “Sometimes, though, I think life can derail you.”
“Well, you’re the one with the entertaining-as-hell video channel.”
She paused as they entered into the nave. “You saw my channel?”
“You told me about the Mistress of Shlock, so I had to look it up,” he added casually. “The review I saw was funny, well written, had great editing and a cute skit at the end.” He winked at her. “Bonus, the outfit you had on was amazing.”
Sandra wanted to groan. Her getup for Mistress of Schlock wasn’t pornographic, but it wasn’t exactly work appropriate either. The thought of Xavier seeing her like that was mortifying. Well, the current boss version of Xavier.
“Which one?”
“The I, Frankenstein one.”
She did groan that time. The red number had been Tonya’s idea the last time she’d gone costume shopping. The design had been a bit more risqué than her usual fare, so it made complete sense that it was also the episode Xavier had seen.
“You, uh, liked it?” she said as they walked in line with the crowd deeper into the church.
He smirked down at her, a look that made her want to cross one leg over the other to keep her pearl from throbbing with need. “I loved it.”
Sandra was about to say something else when the main view of the church came into focus. It took her breath away. Arching her neck up to the ceiling, she had to rely on Xavier to lead her through the crowd and to usher her safely to where she needed to go. The honeycomb feel continued inside as the mass of columns twisted in and out to create cubbies in the ceiling. The sandstone of the building gave the entire cathedral a light, refreshing look and served as the perfect backdrop for seemingly endless colors to splay across. One corner turned a bright crimson, another was bathed in butter yellow, and a third was the darkest, royal purple she’d ever seen.
“It’s like being inside a kaleidoscope,” she whispered, awe filling her voice.
“Like I said, the outside scared me as a kid. I always felt like the statues might actually be alive. I used to tell Javier when we’d visit from America that they were really alive, and if he weren’t careful they’d reach out and grab him.”
“That’s devilish.”
“True,” Xavier said, his grin playful. “But in here? I always felt it was magical, like maybe I’d landed on an alien planet or something. Like I was an explorer to a brave new world.”
“This would be an amazing place to set a movie,” she whispered as they got in line to light the white candles at the altar.
He quirked his head at her as he approached the altar and picked up a small alabaster votive. “I was wondering about that.”
“About what?”
“Well, you clearly love film. You can hear it in the enthusiasm you have even for bad ones. Besides, I heard the names and dates you were dropping just for I, Frankenstein. You know the history of it better than I bet my dad remembers all the history of Catalan Food Industries.”
“And?”
He pressed the wick of his candle to an already lit one at the altar and placed it down. “Did you ever want to make your own?”
“You know I do.” She picked up her own candle and then flinched when she remembered that, no, actually, Xavier didn’t know that about Jules the valet. He’d only heard it from Sandra, the girl at Atlantis.
“Huh?”
“I mean, it’s kind of obvious, right? I would love to, but it takes the right schooling and connections and equipment and capital. So many things I don’t have right now, so I write screenplays, and I save what I can. One day, I know I’ll do something, but today’s not yet that day.” She placed the candle beside his as her shoulders slumped. Suddenly the energy felt as if it had been drained out of her.
Xavier took her hand in his and squeezed it. “I think that’s noble of you. People never admit their deepest desires or their secrets. They’re always afraid that they’ll get laughed at. I think what you want to do sounds amazing, and I’m glad you shared something so private with me.”
She swallowed hard. Of course, if I were honest, I’d stop the Sandra-Jules charade and let you know that it’s easy to tell you because I already did. No wonder it always looked so hard in the movies when Superman and Clark Kent had to deal with a dual identity. In reality, it kind of sucked, and it was super hard to keep track of what you were supposed to know and not have heard yet.
“Maybe it’s this place. Harder to be dishonest, even with myself, when we’re basically camped out in the gumdrop kingdom. It’s so overwhelming and awe-inspiring here. Plus, you know, the religious part. Maybe I just needed to be honest while I was here.”
He squeezed her hand. “I understand that. Come, I have another place to show you, and it’s going to rock your world.”
***
“Oh my god!” she shouted. Then she rolled the creamy sensation around in her mouth again. “This is the most amazing thing I’ve ever had between my lips.”
Xavier chuckled and dug his fork deeper into the velvety layers of chocolate cake from the Bubó bakery in the Gothic Quarter of the city. “That was my reaction the first time I ever had this. I assumed that even if it won an award for the best chocolate cake in the world, it was all subjective.”
Sandra brought another bite to her lips and tried to keep herself from licking every tine of the fork. That wouldn’t be polite. Then again, neither was moaning like Meg Ryan from When Harry Met Sally over cake. But she couldn’t help it. The confection was a mix of dark chocolate icy, hazelnut crunch and the richest milk chocolate ganache she’d ever had, all mixed with a flaky dough that melted in her mouth.
Relishing the bite, she waited to speak. “Let’s just say that there’s no way they had to bribe the judges to win this. I might want to live on only this if it wouldn’t result in massive vitamin deficiencies.”
“Well, we wouldn’t want that.”
She shrugged. “It might be worth it. Then again, this would go to my rear, and it’s already too round.”
Sandra flinched and set down her fork. Smooth, that doesn’t sound like fishing for compliments.
Xavier chuckled, that honey smooth voice making her inner core clench again with heat and need. It was a miracle any female execs and some male ones could concentrate around him at all. There was nothing Xavier did that wasn’t charming as hell.
He leaned forward in his chair and made a show of glancing at her hips. “I think you look just right. Some men want something a little more to hold on to. I’m only saying that…well, you don’t have to always judge yourself by the latest fashion magazine.”
Holy shit, he just complimented my ass.
Pushing a long strand of strawberry blond hair behind her ear, she nodded back at him. “I wasn’t…that was just a slip of the tongue. I got too relaxed, and I know that’s so not something a valet should say to her boss. I wasn’t trying to get you to compliment me.”
“First, today we’re just Xavier and Jules out to see my city. Second, I wanted to compliment you. I don’t know why you think you’re not pretty enough.”
“I haven’t always had the best dating experience or judgement.” Like before, with you. “Sometimes, the self-doubt creeps in. Then you add in the fact that I’m twenty-six and I don’t feel yet like I have a ‘real, grownup job,’ or at least that’s what my mom says, and sometimes I have all the nerves.”
“Don’t,” he said. “I mean, we all have things we wish we could have, and trust me…bad relationships? Name a human on the planet—one who’s not a hermit—who hasn’t had one.”
“Well…”
“Exactly.”
“You can’t possibly want anything different,” she said. “Outside of getting the union negotiations to go well this month.” She felt a bit like a voyeur or someone playing a cruel trick. She knew exactly what Xavier would have actually wanted out of his life. Was it wrong to pry it from him again for “Jules’s” benefit? “I mean, it must be nice to have everything.”
“I have a great family. I love my parents and my brother, annoying as Javier may be, very much. Granted, I may not have the swinging bachelor lifestyle as organized or under control as I thought.”
She snorted. “Not if Lisette and Carrie had anything to say about it.”
“See, then that’s a set of relationship failures. You and I, Jules, are both currently single and enjoying one of the most beautiful cities on earth.”
“No, don’t skate from this,” she prodded, covering her hand over his. “What is it that you really want, Xavier? What is it in life that makes your heart sing? You know I want to make movies. What do you want?”
“Horses,” he said, and then he rolled his eyes and corrected himself. “That didn’t come out quite right.”
She chuckled. “I think I follow. So to race, like in the Kentucky Derby?”
“No. Mother loves them. She has always had a few Arabians, whether we’ve been living in Spain or the US. She still does. I always adored riding too, and training. There’s something powerful in breaking in a bronco. I’m never happier than when I’m out there riding.”
“I guess being a CEO doesn’t give you much time for it?”
“I could delegate, but I know it would matter to Father that Javier and I keep up tradition. To be honest, even I’ll admit it, Javier is the planner behind everything, has his eyes on five- and ten-year plans. I can glad-hand, smooth out the board when they balk.”
Her face flushed. “You’re blessed with a silver tongue, huh?”
“People say that.”
She shivered, knowing full well it was true in more ways than one.
“But that’s not what I love. Maybe one day I could find someone to take the CFO or a different minor position and let Javier take my place. He’d do the best job of it, but I feel like I’d let my family down.”
“Well, it seems to me that horse raising is part of the family tradition too.”
“Not the part that pays,” he said. “I guess we’re all trapped sometimes between what we want to have and what we have to do.”
She leaned forward, her heart thudding in her chest. When she spoke, her voice had dropped an octave to a sultry alto that she barely recognized. It was that vixen from the night at Atlantis surfacing again. “But what do you really want?”
He reached across the table and rubbed a thumb over her lips. “You, uh, you had a bit of chocolate on your mouth.”
“And?”
Xavier stood and walked around the table. Then, he leaned low and kissed her, his tongue working its way first over her lips before seeking purchase in her mouth. When he pulled back, he still stayed lingering by her mouth, the heat of his breath against her face, the taste of chocolate fresh on her tongue.
“You, Jules. I want you, but I know you’ve seen me at my worst. Seen that I can like my women too much. I just wanted you to know that for these few weeks, you can be more than my valet, if you want to be, and I’d never hold it against you.”
Sandra nodded, but her heart broke again. She’d already been in the club of women Xavier never called or tried to find again. “But it would be a fling. I’m not sure I’m made like that, that a few weeks of pleasure are all I want from you.”
Xavier’s grin widened, and those dimples were back at the corner of his cheeks.
Her knees wobbled under the table, and she was glad he couldn’t see her. God, he was her Kryptonite.
“Who said I only wanted a little while?”
“The fact I had Lisette throw a glass at me when her aim missed you,” she replied. “I need time to think about this, okay? To be ready to take a plunge.”
Xavier stilled and a bit of the light faded from his eyes. “I feel this connection with you, Jules. I know that sounds like a line, but there’s something about you that makes me feel like I’ve known you so much longer than I have. It’s all up to you, but I just wanted to let you know that I’m waiting, and I think you’re worth it.”
She nodded. He thinks we’re connected because we are, at least from that night. But I just can’t tell him. How connected can we be if he rejected me? “I…let’s go see the Park Güell and we can talk about it later. I…it’s not a no, it’s just so complicated that I need some time.”
Xavier offered her his hand. “Then we’re off to see Gaudí’s greatest gift to the city.”