Salvador

Chapter 9

Mona

He parks the car, once again proving that anything can be sexy.

Grabbing the keys and placing them in his pockets, he offers me a hungry smile. What are his intentions?

He opens my door, he's more of a gentleman than he seems. He grabs my hand and walks me to the empty car park's elevator. Once we're in there, I let go of his hand and grab the lipglossfrom my purse, and apply some in the mirror. He watches me, his eyebrows deeply furrowed. I smack my lips together and turn around, "What's wrong?" I ask.

"You let go of my hand." He complains, causing me to smile.

"Don't be so childish." I reply and he gasps and looks at me with widened eyes and an even sterner expression on his face.

"How dare you-" he exclaims breathlessly, forcing his hand over my lower back and pulling me into him "if you were anyone else, talking to me like that, I would shoot you in the fucking head."

I place my manicured fingers over his stubbled jaw softly, and whisper into his ear "Not if i shoot you first."

***

I can hardly believe that I'm actually on a date with Salvador right now. I expected him to take me to a packed, classy restaurant, but as the empty car park should have signified to me, the place is also pretty empty. There's only two or three other couples, a long distance away from us. This place must be very exclusive. And the place in question is a glistening, magical balcony restaurant, looking over the whole of Rio. The view is so gorgeous and scintillating that for long moments at a time, I become speechless while looking out at it.

A waiter walks over and hands us leathered menus, he examines me with his mouth slightly ajar and I smile at him. Maybe that will make him stop staring. But it doesn't.

"Obrigado [Thanks] you can go now." Salvador says, looking through the menu and not taking notice of this man's intrusive eyes.

The waiter doesn't move, causing Salvador to look up angrily. "You can go." He repeats. The man is still entranced by me. Salvador's hand reaches over towards his gun on the table, in a threatening manner. The man rushes away, bowing apologetically and sneaking in once last glance at me.

"I'm glad I took you to a place that's not crowded." He says while glaring furiously at the man walking away.

"Please don't kill him." I say, half jokingly, but half completely serious.

He chuckles and looks at me deeply. "I'll try not to."

I open the menu. Italian food. The fact that he took me to an Italian place makes me smile as I read the dishes. Risotto, Panzenella, Focaccia, Minestrone, Gnocchi do ricotta. The thoughtfulness makes my heart melt. Maybe he sensed how homesick I've been feeling.

"Italian." I whisper

He looks up from his menu "you don't want this?" he asks concerned, his accent thick as ever.

I look up too and greet his eyes with a smile. "I love it," i say lowly "Thank you."

***

After eating and drinking and talking for about two hours. Salvador is driving me home. He paid, and even paid for takeaway of some cookies at the till that I was obviously gawking at. I offered to split the check, but he just laughed at the suggestion.

After eating out for a meal like that, all I feel like doing is sleeping. I hope Salvador won't be disappointed about that. I glance over him. He also looks deep in thought as he glares in front at the road. I grip my purse and the cookies hard and he hears it and snaps out of thought. He catches me looking at him.

"What's the matter Bonita?" He asks with a caring sigh.

"I want to go to the beach." I answer, the first random, irrelevant thing that comes to mind.

"Right now?" He asks, readying to drive in a different direction.

"No," I smirk "I just haven't been to a single beach since I arrived in Brazil, how crazy is that?"

"Very crazy," He smiles at me, my insides melt. "I'll take you."

"Don't worry about it." I know how busy he is, I don't want to bother him.

"I want to, Mona," he says, his phone suddenly buzzes "I'll make time for you, if that's what you're concerned about."

His phone buzzes again.

"Check that for me." He orders.

"W-what? Are you sure?" I ask in shock.

"Yes. Just be ready for some possibly disturbing language."

I pick up his phone and look at the Lock Screen. The background is a young Thiago. That part makes me smile.

"What?" He asks curiously.

"Your background is adorable."

He nods and smiles in realisation. I move my focus from the background to the messages that had been disturbing our conversation.

"2 Messages from Gloria."

Who the fuck is Gloria. I tap on the notifications, allowing myself to see the contents of each message. I hope it's someone he works with or some relative.

"Olá Salvi [Hello Salvi]."
"Sinto falta do seu toque esta noite [I miss your touch tonight]."

My heart drops. I feel tears forming in my eyes and I try hard to keep them at bay. I feel so stupid. Not because he has plenty of other beautiful women on the rota, but because I didn't realise I was only an option. It's stupid that I feel sad about it.

"Who's texting me?" He inquires.

I delete the notification and put the phone down. "Thiago." I whisper, a lie, looking out of the window in embarrassment.

***

He lets me out of the car and I storm past, leaving the cookies and my share of the money from dinner, in my seat. He looks at me in shock and I walk in my building without saying goodbye, without giving him a single look.

When I enter my apartment I lock the door and tears fall down my face instantly. I take my heels off and fall on my bed. How could I be so fucking stupid? I feel even dumber for crying. I was so in denial about how strongly I've let myself feel for this man. My fantasising imagination has taken it too far. Usually I would hardly care if I discover a man has options this early in a relationship, I mean, who cares? We've only been on one date.

My phone vibrates next to me. "Salvador Calling..." I hang up and throw my phone across the room in a fit of rage. Fuck you Salvador. I'm not down for whatever he had in mind for us.

I hear a distant buzzing of my phone in the corner, and I just lie down on my bed and contemplate. I do not understand that man. I do not understand the way I feel about him. I have never felt this way before.