A Waltz With Wolves (Book II in The Harrison Inc. Series) | ✓

Chapter Thirteen: I Don't Always Care, But When I Do, It's Way Too Much

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Julio and I have an engaging conversation during the drive to coffee with Alejandro.

It's just innocent conversation to calm my nerves—yes, I am nervous. Before at my office, I was completely in control of the situation with Sebastian. But now? I can't stop tapping my feet while staring anxiously out of the window. It seems like hours to get to this restaurant for coffee, but really, it's just my impatience.

When the car stops, we are parked in front of a structure that is heavily inspired by Spanish architecture. Briefly, I think of Sebastian's mansion and the similarities it shares to it, but I force myself to stop with the thoughts of him for once. Right now, I'm here for me. Alejandro offered me a lot of money to help promote this event him and his family want to host; this is for me.

Julio opens my door and helps me out of the car. I stare up at the building, then down at the beautiful water fountain in the lobby. A valet comes forward and parks the car while Julio walks me inside. This place is like a Latin Four Seasons; Barcelona or Cartagena without the turbulence.

"Don't tell Señor Quintanilla I said this," Julio starts. "But I think you look very pretty."

I laugh. "Thank you, Julio. Why don't you want me to tell him?"

We're finally inside a large restaurant, tables filled with the elite enjoying expensive meals and drinks. The ceiling is open, inviting an array of sunlight inside to illuminate the stucco walks and the silver chairs and tables. Whenever I had the privilege to go to restaurants like this, there was always jazz or piano playing. But here it's different—cumbia is playing from a live band. And it's amazing.

"He has been talking about you a lot, señorita."

I bite my lip as we walk through the restaurant, trying to hide my smile. "Really? What has he said?"

"Don't tell Señor Quintanilla I said this," Julio says again. "But, I overheard him saying that he wishes today to go well so he can spend more time with you. He also says he has never met a woman like you. But don't—"

"—tell Señor Quintanilla you said that?" I finish. Julio nods with a smile. Despite Alejandro's words, I have to remind myself why I'm here: business.

And Colombian coffee.

Julio guides me outside on the other end of the restaurant. The area outside is surrounded by palm trees and water fountains on either side, with a band playing softer music in the distance. There are only a few people outside enjoying themselves in deep conversation; this area must be "reserved" for those higher in social class than the ones inside.

Half way walking through is when I see him—leaning against a table with his hands deep in the pockets of his black slacks. The buttons of his white shirt are strained against his chest; I'm sure any moment they might pop off their sewn confinements. The thoughts make breathing a little more difficult for me.

"You came," Alejandro says to me. His eyes wander over me, but not in the lustful way he did at the club, but more as if he's taking me in and refusing to let me go. Julio is immediately gone from my side when Alejandro speaks. It's just us now, our table near one of the fountains with a waterfall attached; I feel as if we're about to convene deep in the rain forests.

"I'm a woman of my word," I reply. Alejandro smiles slightly; he's become known for only smiling fully when he's drunk. He pushes himself up from the table and slides out my chair. He's being a gentleman, and I make sure to take mental note of that.

I sit down. "Thank you." I say up to him.

He waits until I'm seated comfortably before taking a seat across from me. The only thing that separates us are wine glasses and utensils.