Plus One

Chapter Nineteen

Ian was in meetings all day, which meant Sophie had hours to herself. After what had happened the night before, she was desperate to get as far away from him as possible.

"Luke?"

"Yes?"

"Hi, it's Sophie. From yesterday?"

"Hey Sophie From Yesterday. You want to go out?"

"Yes, I'd love to."

"I'll pick you up in half an hour. We'll drive today so you can see more of the city."

True to his word, half an hour later he was picking Sophie up outside the Tate.

"Hey, stranger," she said as she got in.

"Hey yourself." Luke pulled into traffic. "Okay, so first, off, we're going to see La Sagrada Familia," he said.

"The crazy looking cathedral, right?"

He nodded. "The very one."

He parked on a street adjacent to the cathedral so that she could see the whole thing from further away.

"Oh my god," she said.

She'd never seen anything like it. The stone looked like it was melting. There were four imposing towers, each beautifully crafted, over what looked like a spaceship.

Luke pointed to where a crane sat next to one of the towers.

"The architect, Gaudí, died with only twenty percent of the building finished, so they've been trying to finish the thing since 1926, using his original design."

"It's gorgeous," she said.

It was hard to believe that something so thoroughly modern had been designed nearly a hundred years before. Sophie took as many shots as she could, zooming in on the tiny figures carved into the facade of the building.

What would it have been like if Ian were here, if they were visiting it together, hand in hand? She shook her head. He wasn't hers. She had to stop thinking like this.

They walked closer to the cathedral, admiring it from the outside.

"Do you want to go in?" he asked.

"Nah. Let's see more of the city. I only have a few hours before I should head back."

They drove past more of Gaudí's buildings, each one more fanciful than the last. Luke pointed out his favorite statues and fountains. They spent over an hour in a bookstore, sharing favorite books. They stopped for lunch at a cafe where they drank cold beer and ate gazpacho and paella. Afterward they walked through La Ciutadella, a glorious park complete with a zoo and a lake full of lovers in rowboats. They sat for a long time by the lake, trading stories.

"So how are you a friend of the Tate family?" Luke asked.

"Oh, it's a long story. I met the youngest son, Ian, at a gallery in LA and we hit it off. We became good friends."

"Nothing more than friends?"

"No," she said honestly, "nothing more."

Because he had never loved her, would never love her. They'd been friends at best, but more like co-workers who had the unfortunate habit of sleeping with one another.

Sophie closed her eyes and let the sun beat down on her, enjoying the sounds of the park: children laughing, snatches of Spanish, the sound of a splashing fountain. Somewhere nearby, a man was strumming a guitar, singing plaintive songs in Spanish.

"Are you okay, Sophie?" Luke asked. "You seem...a little down today."

She glanced at him. "You're a very perceptive man."