The door closes behind us with a loud clank. Pablo heads to the bar, leaving me in the corridor that leads to our changing room.
Why did Pablo say that?
I recall Nathan’s fine clothes, his luxury rides, his beautiful condo, and his aunt’s refined manners. That’s his world. The little glimpse I’ve had of it for now.
My eyes drift to the door separating me from a reality where I dance for truck drivers. I think of Alejandro’s prison cell, our house’s decaying walls, and the packed interior. Right. Not exactly similar. But Nathan doesn’t seem to care about it. So why should I?
The newfound faith that was nestled in my chest after our kiss invades my limbs once more. I decide that, in fact, I won’t care about it. I won’t even wait to tell Nathan the truth about Ale. Tomorrow I’ll go and see my brother, because no matter how strongly I feel about Nathan, Ale is my blood and I’ve failed him in the past. But the next time I meet Nathan, I’ll come clean with him. About Fernando too. If Nathan is the kind of man I hope he is, he won’t run.
And if he does?
“Give La Mujer Sin Alma what’s due, your treacherous heart after he abandons you…”
I shake my head slightly to stop the rhyme, then shuffle to our changing room. I never want to think of these wary words again. Not in relation to Nathan. He deserves more from me and I’m determined to give it to him.
Chapter 25
(Nathan - Day 6)
“Oh, sorry, Nathan,” my brother says, excusing himself. “I didn’t realize you were having a meeting. Rachel wasn’t outside, so I thought you might be talking to her.”
When Murphy entered my office this morning, I was just finishing a discussion with a guy from accounting. “No problem, Murph. Thomas and I are done.” I stand up and shake my employee’s hand. “Thanks for the thorough briefing, Thomas. It really shows how you and your team put a lot of effort into this monthly report. It’ll make my job with the board of directors an easy cruise.”
This praise comes surprisingly naturally. Not only because Thomas and his team did a terrific job with the report. But also because, by now, I know how it feels to be complimented by a person whose opinion matters to me. The sense of pride when Eva called my simple gesture of setting an alarm “thoughtful” still warms me inside.
Thomas blushes, an endearing sight given his bulky build and chubby cheeks. He staggers to the door, but before he steps out, I call behind him. “Please make sure that Frank, Bob, Angela, and you take an extra-long lunch break in some nice restaurant nearby. I’d recommend Gravatti’s Trattoria. The bill is on AMEA, of course. As a bonus for your excellent work.”
Thomas whips around and his double-chin deepens as his jaw goes slack. But he gathers his wits quickly and nods enthusiastically. “Oh, thank you. Thank you. The team will be happy!”
When he’s gone, I turn to Murphy.
He’s standing a few feet from me, studying me with a raised brow. “You gave a bonus to the accounting guys?”
“Yes.”
“And you called the team members by their names?”
I give him a so-what glance.
Murphy glares back at me. “It’s not something you usually do. And where is your secretary? Rachel has never taken a day off since you recruited her, right?”
I shrug. “She mentioned this morning that her mother had a blood test, and I said she should drive her. Elderly ladies get dizzy when they get their veins poked.”
“You not only granted her permission, but you actually encouraged her to take personal time off to be close to her mother?”
“Yes.”
I can’t see what’s so strange. I mean…yes, I can—being this considerate with employees isn’t what I would have done, even a week ago, but it’s not a big deal. After my first trial with my secretary, I’ve been branching out and giving some extra attention to my subordinates. For now, the balance of my tests is pretty positive.
And the weirdest side effect of all?
It actually gives me a great feeling to connect with the people I spend a reasonable chunk of my day with. Perhaps implementing Eva’s advice is not only changing my work procedures but also something in me. I wouldn’t stretch it as far as to say that I’ve become like my brother, but I no longer see my employees in the restrictive dichotomy of “performing vs. non-performing.” Instead, I perceive their personalities and wishes. And this places my interactions with them in a whole new dimension.
Take Rachel, for example. This morning, she arrived with that Nicaraguan Cigar Blend coffee that only one specialty store on the other side of town keeps and I love. The cup was still steaming when she put it on my desk with a smile. To reciprocate her courtesy, I didn’t want to keep her away from her mother in a moment of need.
Or Marcela from sales. She offered to redo the sketches for a client meeting, without me having to ask her explicitly, because I listened to how her cat had kittens. Not to all the gross details of the birth, just to the names she gave to them.
And I’m pretty sure that Thomas and his team will make their next presentation even more dynamic after having tried the Gravatti’s antipasti.
Murphy strides to me and leans back and forth, peeking behind me as if he’s looking for something.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Checking whether you’re a hologram or my real brother. But I can’t see any projector, so it must be you. Even if you do have that untypical grin plastered on your face.”
“I’m just in a good mood.”
Murphy straightens. His long curls buzz in the air for a second, even after he stops moving. He must have forgotten his gel today. “That I can see.” He hums. “I would even
