“I’m not confused at all,” César told me. “I’m very clear that you’re not my girlfriend. I don’t want that, either.”
“Great,” I told him. “Perfect.”
“And I’m not going to try to keep you under lock and key,” he continued. “You made me worried tonight but I didn’t handle it well. From now on, I’ll be totally hands-off.”
“Great,” I said again. I made my voice strong and sure. “Perfect. And you should know that I’ll never do anything to harm the baby. If you think I will, you’re wrong.”
“Good.” He nodded slowly. “Good, I’m glad to hear you say that.”
I nodded back. I never, ever would.
“So,” he remarked, “you want to run away to Florida because you miss your sister.”
“I would move because Ellie needs me,” I explained. “Not really the other way around. She’s always been a loner and it’s hard for her to make friends. I want her to make it work there, because it’s a great opportunity and she’s amazing. She deserves to be happy.”
“You guys get along like Valeria and I do. My sister is my best friend,” César told me. “I miss her a lot, too, being up here for the winter instead of down the street from her like I usually am when the season ends. But, you know, she has her own life to live, and I have mine.”
“Ellie and I can live our own lives with both of us in the same state again,” I answered. “She’s my best friend like your sister is to you, and that’s why I want to support her.” I was trying to read César’s expression. Usually, he was an open book and it was easy to see what he was feeling, but right now, his face was strangely closed off. “So I’ll be moving out.”
“Ok. That’s good for me to know so we can start planning the next steps.”
I wasn’t planning anything with him, so I changed the subject. “Did you have a good time with your friends after I left?”
“I guess,” he said. “Sure, it was fine. Your little friend was annoying us until Jory stepped in.”
“Who, Derrick?”
“The guy who was buying you drinks,” he said. “Whatever his name was. He kept trying to figure out why you had been sitting at our table until Jory had to tell him to move on. Sometimes he doesn’t get along with people,” César explained, and laughed a little. I was glad to hear it, because I hadn’t heard the sound in a while. “I meant to tell you, I understood about you ordering that G and T at the bar. When I tore up my knee in college, it was right before the draft. I walked around campus like it was fine and I didn’t need any help at all, and then when I went inside my house, I put on my brace. I needed to keep up appearances.”
“Exactly,” I said, relieved that he no longer thought I was an idiot and worse, harming the baby. “Uh, César? I wanted to say something, too. Before, I got upset about you grabbing my arm. I don’t actually think that you would, you know, injure me. You don’t seem like that kind of guy.”
His face got very, very serious. “I’m not. I would never, ever intentionally hurt you.”
“I don’t think you would.” I hesitated. “My mom had some boyfriends who did get physical. I guess I’m always on the lookout.”
He nodded, his eyes on me. They reminded me of dark chocolate.
“The thing is, we don’t really know each other,” I continued. “Everything could be something bad.”
“Or something good,” he pointed out.
“True.” Maybe, but people generally didn’t hide their good sides.
“For example, you don’t even know about my talents with pastry,” he said.
“Wait, are you kidding?” I asked, very interested.
“If you move away to Florida, you’ll never find out.”
“I’m not sure I believe you, anyway,” I told him. “I don’t remember seeing that in the Special Talents section of your questionnaire.”
“You left that part blank yourself,” he said. “No special talents, or did you get bored of answering by that point?”
“I don’t know if I’m particularly talented. You’re doing all right, though. Cooking, baking. I guess some football.”
César gave himself a once-over and nodded, very pleased with what he saw. “Yeah, I’m doing great.”
I threw my pillow at him and he laughed again.
“What? I can’t short myself. I’m the top tight end in the league, or I will be next season. Just wait until you see the contract I’m going to sign. I’m smart, handsome, and the ladies—”
I threw my other pillow. “Didn’t you also write on the questionnaire that you give great foot massages? I thought I read that.”
“I don’t remember writing anything about massages, but here.” He patted the top of his thigh and I leaned back and stretched out my legs. “My mom wears very, very high heels and my dad is the true expert.”
I sighed as he rubbed. “You’re doing great,” I told him. “Make sure you go back and put this down as another of your talents.” I closed my eyes. “My feet are killing me. It’s been a while since I had on my fancy shoes.”
“You said that you haven’t been feeling well enough to go out.”
I felt fine right now with the work he was doing to my feet, but I was very, very sleepy. “That, and I was just so sad because of the whole thing with Warren Wilde, with finding out that he’s my father and not my uncle. He was always my most important person, through my whole life…” I yawned. “I mean, I trusted him the most,” I tried
