V

T

wo days. I have been going to the firm and turning back for two days. Two days I have tried to get up inventing any stupid excuse to see him but, as soon as I get there my argument losses credibility and I am not brave enough to get in. It is like I am seventeen again instead of the thirty I know I am. What the shit happens to me? Can’t I control my hormons? I walk repiting all over it is ok to go and say hi to my parents; watch him only for a moment and come back home. What’s wrong with that? It is about saying hi and that doesn’t last longer that a minute. Some hello, later good bye, then go home. Is something that makes me happy, period! Actually, it makes me happy during the moment but, when I walk away my brain tries to blow and the fact he has a family rounds and rounds striking my head. On the other hand, Jorge is very straight with me, it is true but, only because I am the bosses’ daughter, nothing else. He can be it like with the rest of people he wants to be it. Because, he says hi, we shake hands, he says good bye and, when he finishes his journey at work he goes home with his wife and daughter. And I get to my home like a jerk, wondering of a man who doesn’t waste a second of his time thinking about me and creating stories in my head that will never happen. It is clear that reading so many Victorian writers has done nothing good to me.

Today, I came to the law firm again. Is almost nine o’clock of the night and I’ve been here exactly twenty minutes. I am freezing to death by the way. Cold time in Salamanca and I thought of wearing skirt, imagine that. From my building I can’t differenciate between a sunny day and a day with a nice weather so, I got excitated when a saw the sun shining and choosing between how sleepy I was and how much I wanted to wear a very cute suit, well, the suit won. Even in this situation I am not capable of leaving the damn blind point in the sidewalk in front of the law firm. I look at the phone a little distracted, I play with a pen from work, breathe deep... breathe inevitably agitated.

My phone rings. I think that whoever saw me in this moment might be impressed as a consequence of my odd reaction. I breathed deep as if I was going to submerge in a four hundred feet depth pool and, I am incapable of touching the green bottom to answer the phone. It is Jorge. I have seen this name in my phone screen just a couple of times in my life and, the other one was when I invited him and Claudia to a Garamonds VIP party, and he called to ask for the party hour and to get the tickets to get in, therefore, I am not very accustomed to live this moment.

As soon as my brain receives the appropriate oxygen again, my finger moves and answers the phone call, and I put the phone in my ear.

“Yes?” I ask been goofy like if I had no idea of who was calling.

“Good evening Laura... Is this a bad time?”

His voice sounds so serious and so sweet at the same time... He asks like doubting if he should call me or not. It wouldn’t be a bad time even if I were in a middle of a government meeting to prevent Spain been invaded by United States.

“Ehm... well, no, tell me” I answered indifferent.

“Are you sure?”

I am as sure as the fact that I am making myself foolish standing in the middle of the sidewalk and trying to find an excuse to get up and see you. That’s right, I am that sure. So, keep making those beautiful and sexy sounds that goes through your mouth, please...

“Yes, of course, I am sure. Something happened?”

“Not actually, is just that I have to prepare a client to handle press after leaving court and I thought that maybe, you could help me in that area.”

Where is my heart? Have someone seen it? It has just been packed and sent to I don’t know where, I can’t even feel it beating. Or it beats so fast that I can’t difference one beat from the other. I remove my phone from my ear and see the screen again. Yes, it is Jorge. Why does he want help with something he has been handle during years by his own?

“Laura” he asks as consequence of my unexpected silence.

“Yes!” I sounded very surprised so I cleared my throat, calm down and pick some air “Yes, of course, as you wish... When would you want me to go?”

“As soo as you can. I don’t know what do think of coming here today after finish your work.”

“Well...” pretend you are thinking if you have something to do... “I think I can go today... I’ll go out in some minutes and, I can meet you there if you think it’s not too late.”

It’s almost nine o’clock of the night and I imagine he would have to go home at some moment... with his wife and daughter, yes, I don’t forget that detail.

“I often stay late in the night. Don’t worry. I’ll wait for you then.”

“Ok...” I shamessly babble, like if I suddenly forgot how to talk and I hear him hanging the phone.

And my heart escapes again making my temples beat so strong that, I am forced to put my hands over it to calm for a moment.

Breathe. How was that...? I stretch, inhale some air from my nose... exhale through my mouth... no, it’s not enough, I need more aire. I repeat the process three or four more times and put my phone in my purse.

I step in the law firm very calm and before Conchi watches me, I get in the bathrooms from the grown floor to refresh myself. Well, I don’t look red like a tomatoe, neather pale like milk. That’s good. I make my clothes in a nervous manner; fix a lock of hair that runs out of place. If I had scissors here I would cut a little my fringe. No, I better don’t grab any sharp object because I am so nervous that I don’t know what I would do with it in this moment.

I walk again to the luminous and wide hall and I receive a phone call again. It scares me so bad that I did some ridiculous juggling to take it out of my purse and save it to crash against the fancy beige marmol floor from reception. I answer without checking who was calling, escaping from facing Conchi, who covered her mouth with her hands when she saw how pathetic I looked after going out of the bathroom.

“Yes?”

“Lau, gorgeous, what’s up? I hear a man the other side of the line, he sounded very self-confident.

“Who..?” I ask, removing the phone from my ear to see who was calling.

Shit, is Salva, my ex... A six feet tall snobby blonde guy, robust who lacks affective intelligence on his head, who fully dedicates on his carreer as a chemical from a pharmaceutical which is established here in Salamanca. I dated him this last year and it appears he doesn’t understand that leave me alone means, leave me alone!

“Don’t be silly, it’s me” he says “Shall we drink something tonight?”

“Salva, I’m really busy. I’m in the law firm and I have to...”

“Perfect, I’ll meet you there and I’ll wait for you to go out and drink something.”

“No, Salva, I have told you no for two months already. What makes you think it’s going to be different today?”

My tone is from total exhausted but, that doesn’t seem to discourage him or anything similar.

“Please Lauri, We’ll go to the Dolce and...”

I hated Salva to call me Lauri and I didn’t miss to hear him say it not a little, and even less with such arrogant tone.

“Look, quit it Salva, don’t mess with me, I mean it. You are turning stubborn. And don’t even think to come here, I warn you, or I swear...”

While I talk to Salva, I turn and there is Jorge next to me, wearing his garnet tie, black suit, with a curious expression, he watches me talking on the phone with his hands on his back. He bends his head and I can’t stop looking at his green eyes, it always happens to me. As soon as I look at his face I find those shinny mysterious eyes that I find irresistible. If I was told those eyes are poisonous, I wouldn’t care if there was no antidote available. This man has poisoned my head for so many years that I transform in a silly little girl everytime he is close to me. I love his just shaven skin, I am sure that if I approach enough I’ll be able to smell his after shave lotion... from here I can smell his frutal perfume and my brain instantly cracks. And it is such a delicious crack...

I see him frowns his face before speaking to me, moving his sexy lips only for me.

“Have you hanged up?”

“What?” I ask with no understanding of what he means.

And then, he watches at my phone, which I am keeping in my purse after unconciously hang up to Salva.

“It is no important, it was just an ex...” I tell him focusing on his eyes. As I see he seems even more surprised I feel I have to explain him “I dated him just for a year but, he has been insisting me for two months since we broke up...”

What’s the point of explaining him that? He looks at me like saying what the hell I care your problems? He makes no more comments of my personal life, makes a gesture with his hand pointing to the elevator and we get up to his office in a deathly silence. If we could measure silence, right now I would be smashed against the parking floor of the building, walking through the basement.

The first level is practicaly in a total silence. I don’t see my parents anywhere and those who are still there are grabbing their stuffs to finally go home. We walk silently into his inmaculated office; it shows no human kind trace at all. He helps me in a gesture of kindness to take off my coat and hang it on the rack, makes me sit in the furniture from the left side, a complete novelty. I cross my legs, look around anxiously, trying to find some distraction to calm my nerves. Jorge sits in the couch in front of me and when I lead my eyes to see him, I can tell he is looking at my legs in that moment. He raises his face and he crosses his legs as well to dissimulate and grabs his tie in a tension sight. Was he really looking at my legs? That glance really diserves my hipoterm from the previous minutes. I rubbed my hands when I felt his office hit in comparison to how much cold I suffered out there and Jorge frowns again when I do it.

“Cold?” He asks distant, like if that is the best sentence he can offer me.

“Just a little, nothing happens.”

“Wait a second; I’ll turn up the hitting.”

“It is not...”

...necessary. He stands up and goes to his office thermostate to change temperature.

“Won’t my father be upset?” I ask him, recalling how delicate he turns with that specific topic.

Nobody could get closer our house thermostate. If we felt colder some day he said, that meant it was the time to go to bed. Although I think that is a habbit many parents have.

Jorge sits again and I see the disoriented visage he puts while talking to me most of time. I start to believe he never understands what I say.

“I mean the thermostate, he disturbs when it is manipulated...” I say it trying to smile.

“I don’t believe he concerned if I raises it to you”

And he doesn’t stride when he answered, how can he make it? I feel my heart going out through my mouth just when I listen to him, and thinking of thousands of phrases he could say with the two last words.

“I believe he will, he is a father; it comes with the contract”.

“I am a father as well, Laura”.

And I don’t know why he remembers that to me, so I try to escape of the situation saying the first stupid idea that comes to my mind. Regularly, I have plenty of them to pick.

“Claudia is a lucky woman then, my mother turns insane with that issue. You must be the only man who lacks from that habbit.”

Yes, it is such a fool comment even for me. Jorge can’t stop frown his face and I am afraid it will leave a mark at the end. He listens carefully to my phrase and he touches his lips in a gentle move with two of his fingers, barely moving them, a small move, enough to make me blush while watching him. Jorge, I offer you my mouth in an exchange for that pair of fingers. Right now.

“Your ex has that habbit as well?”

He shot that question as if he was asking the time to a strange. He notices my surprise and I think he worried for messing something so personal, so he hurries to repair the moment; we always do the same when we believe we crossed the imaginary line we drew between us years ago.

“I am sorry, I didn’t mean...”

“No, it’s not important. I have no clue of his home habbits. I didn’t live with him”.

“Ah, I thought that... when you said that you dated him for a year...”

“I said one year, not one life”.

And now, it is me the one who frown. Dating a man for a year was enough to believe that I was living with him? What an odd reasoning.

He remains quiet for a moment trying to decifrate my mental structure. But he would need lots of moments to achieve that...

He finally starts talking about what brought us here. He wants to know what kind of questions a journalist can make to a politician after leaving court, if he was accused of prevarication. He says to properly prepare at his client. I explain him very carefully what I consider his client should and should not answer to look good in front of the audience, which is nothing like the summary secret and other legal subjects.

“I miss having a press cabinet in the law firm” he confesses when I am practically finish explaining everything.

“Did you have a press cabinet at your previous work?”

And I get some awkward silence as an answer. Was the question that personal? It was only about work...

“We should go” he concludes while he abruptly stands from his chair, considering closed our professional conference.

He stretches his hand to help me stand up and, feeling the gentle touch of his warm skin raises my body temperature at instant. A single touch of his hand and I feel butterflies at my stomach. Watch to believe.

He helps me put my coat on and unfortunately we left his office.

“Do you need a ride to go any place?” he asks me when we are in the elevator.

“No thanks, it’s not necessary. I rather walk.”

Well, I’m upset. Not with him, with me. Well, with him also. I want and I don’t want to do something. I want to lock him at his office until he swears endless love to me and, I don’t want him to do it because he has a family and doing something so ruin would be missrespecting him.

I think he noticed the tone I used to answer him and his expression becomes some acid. He pushes the parking bottom and I pushed the grown floor right after him. In few seconds I found myself in front of the entrance of the law firm and I have to get down the elevator, saying good bye to a lifetime opportunity to jump to his arms and force him to possess me right there.

Shit, Paula, it is clear that I can’t talk to you before I meet Jorge.

When I go out from the elevator I turn back and I smile to say good bye trying to emend my abrupt dark moment, but he only nods his head as in a little reverence. That is the way he always greets me or says good bye. This is so weard and captivating... the elevator doors closed with us in a silent attitude, each one standing both sides of that metalic door which now separates us as well in a phisycal aspect. I breathe again and turn to go out from there and get some air in the street.

What a great opportunity wasted... I look like a jerk; couldn’t I do some Sharon Stone’s move or something alike? Although, he was uncomfortable enough to make him believe I was going to jump all over him.

I walk thinking on foolishness and when I go out of the building I see Salva waiting for me in the street. This guy definitely has some kind of deficiency, I can’t find another explanation.

“Didn’t I tell you not to come here?” I shout at him dropping all of the frustation I accumulated few minuts ago because of Jorge.

“Conchi told me you were still upstairs and...” He says smilling and shrunging his shoulders.

“I didn’t say not to wait, I said don’t dare to come” I emphazise.

“Come on, Lauri, let’s drink something considering that we both are here already” and he tries to reach my arm but, I evaded him easily.

“Salva, I’m going home. Forget about me, ok” and I released my arm from his hand.

“Come on, leave it, will you be mad all this time?”

“Let me see if I make it straight...” I tell him rubbing my face with my hand, desesperate for Salva to understand the situation once for all “I am not upset; I just don’t want to have a relationship with you, as simple as that.”

“After a year been together you just change your mind?”

“After one year or after twenty”

“It was because I asked you to live with me?” he asks for the fiftieth time during the last two months.

“Uf... Salva, please, not again, not this conversation... you exhausted me...”

“Are you... are you dating someone else...?” He asks looking at my back.

Wow, what has happened to him?

“Laura” I hear Jorge behind me.

I turn to the exact point where that delicious voice comes from, I make my move trying to give my blood preassure an ease pace. I see him standing right behind me, with a hand extended towars me. He double parked his car in the street and briefly looks at Salva, who has his mouth wide open. Universe conspired and sent Jorge to me as a golden gift and I’ll enjoy this shot of good luck even for a moment. I grab his hand and pull him to me and, I give him a sweet kiss at his lips corner. Jorge didn’t realize my move until it was too late to step back and reject my kiss. When I step backwards, he looked at me with no expression on his face. No surprise, no joy... no nothing. And it must be because all of his blood jumped over me, making every vain of my body vibrate.

“Are you with this guy?” Salva asks again with a high-pitched voice while he stands behind us.

“Is there a problem?” Jorge answers with such a calm but firm tone that silent Salva with a strike. Jorge turns back to me “Shall we go now?”

I agreed as good as I could. Which is a lot already. In a second I made a great movie in my mind supposing this scene is real, that Jorge and I are a couple, that he came to pick me up and go home or to drink something after work... imagination is so mean sometimes, especially when I come back to my real life where I know he behaves this way thinking that is the right thing to do for his chiefs’ daughter and then, he’ll go home with his wife and daughter... Shitty reality.

Holding my hand, he leads me to the copilot door of his very elegant black Lexus and he opens it to make me get up. He closes the door and I turn to see Salva, far from his stubborness. Considering his face expression, I think he won’t insist me anymore.

Jorge sits in the driver’ spot and starts driving the car without looking at me.

“The belt” he remainds me while he drives.

I am so wasted in my head that I didn’t notice. I reached the security belt and I buckled at the third try. If Jorge gives me a sidelong glance I won’t be able to buckle it.

Or he talks to me at three or I’ll collapse. One... two...

“Where do I get you?” he asks.

“Ah...”

To my house? To drink something? To the first motel you encounter to tie you to bed and don’t let you go far from me ever again?

“Do you go home?” he insists again when he realizes I don’t give a quick answer to such a simple question.

“Yes” I rather die instead of telling him invite me a drink “in Filiberto Villalobos, near the art school.”

Silence again. My temples vains beat strongly again. I think that if Jorge turns he’ll be able to see it from his seats and with no effort.

“Your ex?” he inquires and, he doesn’t turn his sight even when he just pushed the breaks in a semaphore.

“Yes, my annoying ex” suddenly, I remember I just gave him a kiss rubbing his lips and I blush immediately “I am sorry about the...” and I poin to my cheek; I don’t dare to point his, not even from my site.

He looks at my lips for an instant and from my seat I can listen to his breath. I think he is breathing all of the air inside the car, because at this point I feel like I don’t breathe air enough to fulfill my lungs. He looks forward again, undisturbed and, he drives again as soon as the red light changes.

“There are very pushing men” he limitates to comment.

And the journalist instinct shows up in the wrong time.

“Why did you offer to bring me in your car, if I told you I was going to walk?” I say making my question tone and turning in my seat to watch him at his face.

I can see tension on him for my question. He squeezes the wheal like trying to prevent it to slip out of his hands and he looks at me with the tail of his eyes.

“We made it” he says while he breaks; no answer to my question.

I give him an insisting gaze until he turns to look at me, then, I remembered how much that intimidates me. And it seems like he knows that too as he doesn’t surprise when I pulled my head backwards some millimeters and strongly grabbed my purse.

I take out the security belt and open the door, almost in a rush.

“Thanks for... well, for...” I make my finger twist to try to explain why the hell I am thanking to him and, to avoid explaining with words.

“Thanks to you for helping me this evening”.

That is his only answer. He speaks so serious and so professional that I feel like he is pushing me to leave. Actually, I think he is pushing me to leave. I am still at his car and he must be hurried to get home with his family, it’s almost eleven of the night. And as soon as his wife and daughter show up in my mind, I put my head down and get out of the car; I walk to the entry portal which is next to the school corner. I open the door and I hear a car walking away up street.

I stay for few minutes in the portal steps, waiting for my legs to get strength again and help me walk up to my house floor. I hit my forehead with the palm of my hand several times. You must be a total jerk to dismiss that opportunity.

What a jerk I am.