Clutch Hit by Faith O'Shea (books to improve english .txt) 📕

Without words, Mateo was beseeching her to go. Her heart dipped. If they couldn’t get Mariposa out, he’d be devastated. Looking at it from a professional perspective, she knew it wouldn’t be good for the team. Throwing caution and her good sense to the wind, she said, “I’ll clear my schedule. I have to make an appearance at the mercy meal, but I can be ready to leave by late afternoon. Will that work?”

She’d have to arrange for someone, maybe Seb, to get Mateo to his driving test but she didn’t think that would be much of a problem.

“Perfect. I’ll have Vivian make the reservations, apply for our tourist card, and book us into an approved hotel in Havana. You’re going to love the place, Allie. It’s bright and colorful and so us.”

Jelani directed a question to Mateo, “Would your mother be able to come meet with us or should we plan to go to her? I’m going to have to apply for the visa under family visit, one of the specialized reasons we can travel there, so we’ll have to spend the time with her.”

Allie felt panic skitter through her. She wasn’t ready to meet his mother. That would take her a step closer to full-on involvement. She watched in mute disbelief as Mateo pulled out his phone and made the call.

The conversation was in Spanish and she had a hard time following the flow of foreign words. The only one she understood was esposa. When he swiped off, he said, “She will get to Havana for Friday. She is anxious to meet my…wife.”

Fear streaked through Allie’s system and it was boosted by a shot of adrenaline. The charade was going from absurd and laughable to real. It wasn’t Jelani’s fault she was treating it as a reasonable request. She hadn’t told her friend the truth behind the marriage, so how would she know this was way out of her comfort zone. She was knee deep in those roiling waters and sinking deeper.

She was almost sorry she’d invited Mateo to drive to Pittsfield with her. It was over a two-hour drive and she wasn’t sure she could be cooped up in the car with him now that she’d agree to go to Cuba. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts, try to figure out a way to extricate herself from a situation that was getting way out of hand.

As if knowing it, Mateo kept silent, his attention on the passing scenery as they drove along Route 2.

What was he thinking? Did he regret calling his mother or was he worried about how the meeting would go? Her curiosity began eating away at her.

“Does your mother know the truth?”

He brushed his hair off his face with both hands before giving her his attention.

“She does not. She would not be pleased if she knew I did it to get her here. She believes marriage is forever. It never mattered that my father didn’t file for divorce; she would not have remarried.”

That kind of thinking resulted in a lonely life.

“I didn’t think religion was big in Cuba.”

“It has nothing to do with religion. Nor what happened all around us. Many marriages are short-lived there. It has to do with a commitment made.”

“But she didn’t break that commitment. Your father did. If a contract is broken, it is terminated. Or redress is sought by the other side.”

“You consider marriage a contract?”

“Isn’t that what it is? A binding agreement between two parties?”

“My contract with the Greenliners ends in five years. Then we renegotiate to extend, or I go someplace else. Marriage has no term limit. Didn’t you hear the words until death, us do part?”

She had. Her stomach had done a somersault as soon as the words were spoken. She still didn’t understand why she’d gone the priest route. Religion had not played a big role in her life. They could have had a legal ceremony without the religious undertones but for some reason, she’d thought it would make it even more believable. And Mateo had seemed more than agreeable.

“If I don’t tell my mother about our agreement, you’ll need to play the role of wife a little bit longer. I ask that you let her believe there is love between us.”

The panic should have come rushing back, but for some reason it didn’t. Maybe it wouldn’t be as hard as she thought. There was a deep respect growing for him, and an unnatural attraction that was turning her inside out. She knew there was no way for her to avoid meeting his mother if she was sponsoring her. Maybe it would be better all the way around if she was alone when she did. She’d get a better sense of the woman without her son by her side.

Mixed with the anxiety, there was an undercurrent of excitement that was running along her spine. She loved experiencing new cultures and she’d never thought about traveling to Cuba due to all the restrictions. It might be fun to visit a new and exotic place.

She gave him the first real semblance of a smile when she asked, “What kind of clothes should I pack?”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Mateo answered her question, explaining that January wasn’t as warm as July and August and didn’t get above eighty degrees for the most part. She’d be missing hurricane season, so she should find it balmy and warm, similar to what she’d found in Cancun. She’d worn mostly sundresses and shorts during their time together and he suggested she take the same type of clothing to Havana. Dressing for comfort would be better than dressing for style. She’d probably realize quickly that whatever she brought would be conservative in the Cuban handbook. Women there didn’t think shorts or skirts could ever be too short. Their dress was extremely feminine, which to them meant sexy.

“Bring a good pair of shoes for nights out. You won’t get into a nice restaurant if you’re wearing flip-flops.”

“Really?”

“Really. It will appear