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ringtone of his phone blared through the office.

Aaron didn’t take his eyes off me as he reached for it and answered, “Blackford.” A pause. We stared at each other, his profile notably hardening. “Yes, all right. I’ll have a look myself. Two minutes.”

I watched him place the phone back on the desk, and then he straightened to his full length.

He searched my face in a way that made my neck and ears flush. As if the skin of my cheeks, nose, and chin hid the answers he was looking for.

“There is something you are not telling me,” he finally said. And he wasn’t wrong. There was much I wasn’t telling him. And it’d stay that way. “But I’m patient.”

Something flopped against my rib cage. I didn’t understand what he meant or why my chest felt tight all of a sudden.

“It’s something important, and I need to go.” He stepped in my direction, both hands in his pockets and eyes still on me. “Get back to work, Catalina. We will continue our conversation.”

Not more than a heartbeat later, Aaron disappeared through the door. Leaving me in his office, staring into empty space. Thinking how well he had already fallen into his new role, doubting there was something we had to continue talking about, and finding it really hard to believe that he had anything to be patient for.

Basically because, where we were concerned, neither of us had anything to wait for.

Chapter Eleven

Everything went downhill after that day.

As much as my intention had been to sort out the whole thing with Aaron, our conversation hadn’t relieved me in the slightest. Sure, I had made it very clear that he was off the hook, but his words still hung over my head. They had for the last two weeks.

“There is something you are not telling me,” he had said. “But I’m patient.”

It was like waiting for a bomb to drop.

And on top of not knowing where we stood after that cryptic statement, I hadn’t brought myself to tell Rosie about it. Yet. I would—as soon as I figured a contingency plan for my wedding situation. Which was only three days away. Three.

I eyed the analog clock I kept on my desk. It was eight in the evening, and I was not even close to being done with the day.

How could I be when nothing was going according to plan? I hadn’t found anyone to replace Linda and Patricia, so I was still covering for them myself. I still hadn’t figured out how I’d be entertaining our guests for the whole sixteen hours Open Day was planned to last. And I had found that our hopefully prospective client, Terra-Wind, had been getting cozy with one of our biggest competitors. Not because they were better than us, but because they were one of those consulting companies that offered their services at ridiculously low rates.

A crisis I had been dealing with for the last three hours.

“Thank you, Miss Martín,” a man in a dark suit spoke from the screen of my laptop. “We will study your offer and come to a decision.”

I nodded. “Thank you for your time,” I said, making myself smile politely. “I look forward to hearing back from you, Mr. Cameron. Have a good evening.”

Hitting End on the conference call I had been on with the representative of the decision board of Terra-Wind, I took off my headphones and closed my eyes for a moment. Jesus, I didn’t even know how that had gone. I just hoped I had gotten through to him. My team was worth every extra penny, and Terra-Wind was a renewable company that had the resources and the potential to do something for the state of New York. I wanted this project.

Opening my eyes back up, I watched my phone flash with my sister’s name, causing a twirl of mixed emotions. Any other day, I would have automatically picked up. But not today. I had already sent several of her calls to voice mail. If it were a real emergency, my whole family would have been blasting my phone.

“Lo siento mucho, Isa,” I said as if she could hear me. “I don’t have time to deal with another bridal apocalypse.”

I silenced my phone, placed it screen down, and moved onto the stack of résumés that HR had sent over for the vacancies I needed to fill. Two—I’d check a couple of them and take the rest home with me.

Four résumés later, I was dropping my trusty highlighter down. I let my back fall on the backrest of my chair.

My head was spinning, probably due to the fact that I had been working on mostly an empty stomach. Again. Because I had been dieting. Wrongly, most likely. Closing my eyes, I scolded myself for being that dumb.

But, as much as I hated myself for it, I couldn’t stop thinking of standing in front of Daniel. My ex, the groom’s brother and best man. Who, unlike me, was happily engaged. Or in front of everybody. I could already feel every single soul attending the ceremony watching me, watching us. Measuring my reaction and assessing me—from the way I looked to the way my lips would tug down and pale when I finally faced him. Looking for possible answers that would explain why I was still single after all this time while Daniel wasn’t.

Did she ever get over him? Did she ever get over everything that had happened? Of course not. Poor thing. What happened must have really messed her up.

So, was it that silly of me to want to stand there and look good? Not just fine. Not just getting by. To everyone watching, I wanted to look complete. Beautiful, flawless, unaffected. I needed to give the impression that I had my life back on track. All figured out. Happy. With a man on my arm.

Objectively, I knew how dumb all of it sounded, how much I shouldn’t be measuring myself in terms of having a man, looking thinner,

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