CHAPTER 24

I exit the elevator on the twenty-seventh floor of the impressive, all-glass tower on Brickell Avenue that houses Sandoval Spirits, then hang a right and cruise down the carpet runner leading to a pair of imposing wood doors with the company name spelled out in raised silver lettering on them. This floor is where all the offices for the company’s top executives can be found—my fiancé being the second most important one of course.

I push open the door and give a finger wave to the receptionist as I pass by her desk. (Naturally, I don’t have to go through the formality of signing in and being announced since everyone here knows who I am.) I smile and say, “Hello,” to the various employees I encounter as I make my way back to the corner office. Things are relatively quiet back there, with no one in the waiting area, just Eduardo’s assistant noshing on a sandwich at her desk.

“¡Hola, Gina! ¿Cómo estás?” I greet the middle-aged woman as I plop down on her desk. Since she’s Eduardo’s gatekeeper, I’ve made it a point to get on her good side over the last few months. It wasn’t difficult since we share a love of cheesy reality shows (RuPaul’s Drag Race being the best of the best in our opinion) and sweets (when I discovered this, I started bringing her a treat from Solana’s panadería each time I visited and now we’re practically BFFs).

“I’m doing well, Ms. Alvarez. And you?”

“Great! I was hoping I could lure Eduardo away for lunch. I spent the morning with the decorator, and I’ve got some swatches for the duvet in the master bedroom I’d like to get his opinion on.”

“I’m sorry, he just went into a meeting with his father that’s going to keep him tied up for the rest of the afternoon. They had lunch brought in.”

“Well, that’s a bummer, because I am starving. A girl can really work up an appetite picking out paint colors and fabrics. Before I forget, I brought you something.” I reach into my tote and pull out a pink pastry box from Solana’s. “Coquitos with a dark chocolate glaze,” I say as I hand the treats to her. Coquitos are sweet coconut balls that are a Cuban favorite. “Solana said she tried something a little different with those, and she’d love to know what you think. You have her e-mail address, right?”

“Mmmm hmmm,” Gina mumbles, crumbs spilling out of her mouth as she chews a big bite of coquito. “I think I tasted honey,” she says after swallowing. “Is that the change?”

“Beats me.” I grab one of the coconut balls and sample it. “I’m getting honey, too. Solana must have used that instead of sugar. Oh, did you hear that Eureka O’Hara will be back for the next season of RuPaul’s Drag Race?” Eureka was eliminated in the last season of the show after she hurt her knee in a cheerleading challenge. I guess the producers felt sorry for her, so they invited her to return.

Gina’s dark eyes widen with interest. “Really? That’s wonderful news. It was such a shame when she lost out because of an injury.”

“Agreed. She had so much potential. She’ll definitely give those other queens a run for that tiara the next time around.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Gillian says as she walks up to Gina’s desk, looking even more prim than usual in a knee-length dress with a ruffled cap sleeve that’s a pukey shade of mauve (it’s leeching what little color she has right out of her pale, freckly skin!). “But would you mind giving this report to Eduardo when he gets out of his meeting?” She hands a blue file folder to Gina, then turns to me. “Isidora, nice to see you. I haven’t had a chance to offer you my good wishes on your engagement.”

“That’s right; you haven’t seen my ring yet, have you?” I love any opportunity to show it off, so I stick out my hand and flick my fingers down, giving her an eyeful of the dazzling rock.

“It’s lovely, but then Eduardo has always had excellent taste,” she says, with a soft smile.

Her comment reminds me of their shared history, both personally and professionally, and it occurs to me that I should probably be cozying up to her as well as Gina. Gillian is like Eduardo’s work wife, after all, and he spends more time with her than he does with me. Not that I’m jealous, but I am curious to know more about her and their relationship.

“Have you had lunch yet?” I ask her.

Gillian frowns. “Is it that time already?” She lifts the iPhone clutched in her hand to check the clock. “Oh, gosh, I guess it is. And I didn’t have breakfast this morning, so I really should eat. I’ll have to send my assistant out for something.”

“Why do that when you can join me at Bachour?” That’s a great bakery/bistro a few blocks up on Brickell. Nothing fancy, but the food is fantastic. “I am dying for a Cuban sandwich and I’d appreciate the company.”

Gillian’s seafoam-colored eyes dart around nervously, and I can tell she’s trying to figure out a way to turn down my invite without offending me. She can’t risk that since I’m her boss’s significant other, but at the same time I’m sure she’d rather eat a working lunch here at the office, hunched over a bunch of boring legal documents. Too bad. I’m not giving her a choice.

Hopping to my feet, I say cheerily, “I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer, so grab your purse and let’s make tracks.”

“Uh, okay, but I can’t be gone long. I have a conference call at 2:30.”

“Then, we have no time to waste!” I hook my arm through hers and start marching her back up the corridor to her office.

Twenty minutes later, we’re seated at a window table in the bustling downtown eatery (slipping a fifty to the hostess got us bumped up to the top of the long wait list—I love having cash to throw around!). Gillian hides behind her menu for a while, ostensibly because she can’t decide amongst all the delicious dishes on offer, but I think it’s because she’s afraid to talk to me. I don’t know why. I’m being very friendly and doing my best to get a meaningful dialogue going. Maybe she’s just shy and takes a while to get comfortable with new people. No problem. I can be very charming when I put my mind to it.

“Good choice on that salad,” I compliment her after we’ve placed our orders, and the waiter’s left. Ugh! Who orders a mostly vegetables salad when there are so many other yummy and sastisfying things (tartines, sandwiches, pasta) on the menu? She must be one of those carb-hating, “eat light” people I find so annoying. No wonder she’s such a tiny thing. Her growth was probably stunted at a young age by her rabbit food diet.

“I love heirloom tomatoes when they’re in season.”

I like them when they’re stewed for a ropa vieja. Mmmmm, beef!

Gillian’s phone buzzes, and she winces. “I thought I shut that off. Sorry.” She pulls her purse up onto her lap and extracts the phone from the side pocket, turning it off. She returns the phone to its resting spot and pulls out a five-by-seven inch card I instantly recognize.

“Thanks for sending this to me.” She holds up the engagement announcement, which has a photo of Eduardo and me on one side and a turquoise background on the other with “We’re tying the knot!” in white script written across the top with all of our details below.

“You’re welcome. They turned out nicely, don’t you think?”

She flips the card around to look at it. “I do. This picture of the two of you is really sweet. You both look so happy and in love.”

Ha! Fooled her. Not about the happy part, of course, I am thrilled to be marrying Eduardo and I have no doubt he feels the same. The mushy stuff is a stretch, though. At least the photo is getting the desired response from people. Eduardo’s mother cried when she saw it, and mine proclaimed it was the most gorgeous photo she’d ever laid eyes on. She even joked she was going to get it turned into wallpaper for her powder room so that she could be inspired by our beautiful love story every day. (At least, I think she was joking; I should probably check that room the next time I’m at her condo.) Anyway, I’m just relieved that even though our engagement photo shoot got off to a rough start, Eduardo and I pulled it together in the end. In fact, we had several terrific shots to choose from. I ended up going with the one Eduardo liked best where he’s got his arms wrapped around me from behind and he’s nuzzling my neck while I’m laughing like he’s either said something funny (he didn’t) or I’m ticklish (I’m not), which just goes to prove that I’m a better actress than viewers (and critics) of Éxtasis y Engaño thought.

“We are. Thanks. It’s all been a whirlwind.” I try not to look too smug since my lunch companion is single and will probably remain so until she does something about her hair and wardrobe. It’s not that Gillian isn’t pretty. I actually see some great makeover potential in her. She just needs to ditch this drab businesswoman look and give her appearance a big, sparkly shot of pizzazz so that she can catch the right guy’s eye.

“And so unlike Eduardo. He’s dated plenty, of course, but never been serious about anyone. I think what happened with his mother last year was a game-changer for him.”

“How so?” I have no idea what she’s talking about in regards to Eduardo’s mother, but I can’t admit that without revealing that Eduardo and I don’t have a lot of heart-to-hearts.

Gillian takes a sip of iced tea before answering. “Well, you know how close Eduardo is to his parents, so it was really scary for him when he thought he might lose his mother. Thankfully, that growth on her thyroid turned out to be benign, but that whole experience made Eduardo want to seize the day and stop putting off things like getting married and starting a family. It’s also why he decided to come back to Miami for good. He wanted to be near his parents and spend as much time with them as he could while they’re still here. It’s always been their greatest wish to see their son married and settled, so I think that’s another reason why he’s willing to take that path now.”

“Lucky me that I met him when I did then.”

“Yes, lucky you.” Gillian sounds almost wistful when she says this, which makes me wonder . . .

“You and Eduardo never had anything romantic going, did you?”

“What?” Gillian squeaks, her eyes bulging out while her face turns crimson. Seeing that color on her makes me think she should go with a darker red for her hair, a nice, rich shade of copper would really make those light green eyes of hers pop.

“Just curious.” Which is true. I’m not accusing her of anything, nor will it bother me if they did get busy in the past since I’m the one he’s marrying. “You and Eduardo have known each other forever and you seem to be really close.”

“Not that kind of close,” she assures me, her face having settled down to a rosy pink. “Eduardo has only ever dated Latinas. I’m not sure if that’s because he’s attracted to them exclusively or because that’s what his family expects of him. The Sandovals are very proud of their heritage and culture.”

This I already know, but I feel kind of bad for Eduardo that he didn’t get to sample all the flavors before deciding which one he liked best. Variety is the spice of life and all that. Although come to think of it, I should probably thank Maria and Eduardo, Sr. for encouraging their son to focus on one small subset of available women. Because of that, I ended up being the perfect candidate for Eduardo’s wife.

“I’m sure you have some great stories to tell about Eduardo since you’ve known him through so many stages of his life. What was he like as a child? As a teen? Did he go through any awkward phases? Was he a jock in high school, a nerd, a rebel?” Before Gillian can respond, our waiter arrives with our lunch. “Thank you. This looks amazing,” I tell the waiter when he sets a plate down in front of me. I’m so hungry that I dive right into my Cuban sandwich, groaning with pleasure when the tried and true flavors of ham, roast pork, Swiss cheese, pickle, and mustard hit my taste buds.

“So, tell me about Young Eduardo,” I prompt Gillian who’s picking through her salad with her fork.

“He’s always been as you see him now—handsome, outgoing, a natural leader, generous to a fault, and very kindhearted.” She picks up her knife and slices off a hunk of burrata cheese to pair with a bite of tomato drizzled in balsamic vinaigrette. “If Eduardo was your friend, you could always count on him, you didn’t even have to ask; he was just there when you needed him.” She puts the bite of food in her mouth and chews thoughtfully for a minute.

“I remember, a week before my prom, I found out that my boyfriend, the one I’d been seeing all through senior year, was cheating on me with my best friend. I was in shock and before I could even process what a betrayal it was, he broke up with me, saying a lot of really horrible, hurtful things. I was completely devastated, not just over losing the jerk, but over missing out on prom, which I’d been dreaming about for years. The whole night had been planned—I had the perfect dress, the limo had been ordered, and I’d told Todd what flowers to get me and what color his bow tie should be. I was the only one of my friends who wouldn’t be going and I knew how left out I was going to feel when they were all talking about that night for months afterwards.”

“So, what happened? Did Eduardo give a beatdown to that loser Todd and make him follow up on his promise to take you to prom?”

Gillian chuckles. “That is not Eduardo’s style. Instead, he flew home from Princeton (and this was the weekend before finals for him, so he should have been staying put to study) and he surprised me by showing up on my doorstep on prom night, in a tux, with a beautiful corsage. He said it would be his honor to escort me to the dance. It ended up being one of the most incredible nights of my life, and I will always be grateful to Eduardo for stepping in like he did.”

There’s a look of pure besotted bliss on Gillian’s face, and that’s when I realize she’s in love with Eduardo. Then, now, probably since she was a kid if he was always around being dashing and wonderful. Sucks for her that he’s marrying me, but she had her chance, right? She could have told him how she felt. It’s not like she hasn’t had ample opportunity in the twenty-odd years they’ve known each other. She probably didn’t think he’d reciprocate, which would have screwed up their friendship, as well as their working relationship.

“He’s a good guy,” I say.

“The best,” she concurs, then quickly drops her eyes to her plate and busies herself slicing up more tomatoes.

Although I don’t view Gillian as any kind of a threat, the thought of her pining hopelessly for Eduardo after he and I have said “I do” doesn’t really appeal to me. Maybe I’ll do her a solid and help her find someone else. I could even make a project out of it! That’s what wealthy ladies of leisure do, right? Find a worthy cause and devote their time and energy to it. We’ll have to start with that makeover I was thinking about earlier, and it needs to be H2T (head-to-toe, Tyra Banks™).

I pick up the piece of dill pickle that’s just oozed its way out of my scrumptious sandwich and pop it into my mouth while I survey Gillian with a critical eye. “Have you ever thought about cutting your hair, or punching up the color?” I query.

Although the sudden change in topic makes her brow furrow with confusion for a second, she rolls with it. “Not really. I’ve never been very adventurous with my hair. I’ve been wearing it the same way since, well, I guess I’ve always worn it like this.”

That explains why she looks like she’s sporting Lindsay Lohan’s ‘do from Parent Trap, a movie that came out almost two decades ago. The woman is wearing a headband for Cristo’s sake! And her all-one-length hair is doing this little flip-up thing at the end. I just can’t . . .

“I’m not proposing anything too radical. I just think that getting a few inches chopped off and layering your hair with some long fringe bangs would really draw attention to your eyes and flatter the shape of your face. Here, I’ll show you what I’m talking about . . .”

I grab my phone from my purse and do a quick Google search for pictures of fashionable mid-length haircuts on red-haired women. I’ve just found one that looks exactly like what I pictured on Gillian when a text from Mamá appears on my screen.

‘!Emergencia! !Emergencia! Tienes que ir a la casa de tu hermana ahorita!!!!!!!’

All Spanish? Dramatic much?

‘Which sister are you referring to and why do I have to come to her house? Has somebody got a hangnail?’ That’s usually my mother’s idea of an emergency.

‘This is no time for your sass! Pilar needs you; she had to go to the hospital this morning.’

For once in my mother’s life, she isn’t exaggerating. This really is serious!

‘Is she OK? What about the baby?’

‘They’re fine . . . for now. Will explain everything when you get here.’

‘On my way.’

I stuff my phone back in my purse and signal our waiter. “I’m sorry, Gillian, but something’s happened with my sister who’s pregnant and I need to go to her. Can we get the check please?” I ask the waiter and am relieved when he already has it prepared and hands it to me.

“Of course, I understand. You should be with your family.”

She reaches for her purse, but I stop her. “No, this is my treat.” Technically Eduardo’s, but whatever. I slap down my platinum AmEx and the waiter trots off with it. “Please stay and finish your meal. Order dessert if you want. ¡Ay, mierda! I forgot that I drove.”

“It’s okay.” She reaches out to pat my hand. “I can handle walking a few blocks back to the office.”

“Thanks.” I scribble my signature on the charge slip as soon as the waiter sets it down in front of me. “I hope we can do this again sometime.” I push back my chair and take off, only to screech to a halt and reverse back to the table. “I’ll e-mail those pictures of haircuts and colors to you, along with the number for my hairstylist,” I tell Gillian, then bolt for the door again.