The Spanish Love Deception by Elena Armas (the mitten read aloud TXT) 📗

that morning. And with every step I took in my office’s direction, the sensation kept intensifying, as if the ball were expanding and taking more and more room in my stomach.

I hadn’t been this … uneasy ever since that awful call a couple of weeks ago when I had heard that Daniel was engaged. The one phone call where the lie had come to be.

But this was different, wasn’t it?

This heaviness in the bottom of my stomach had nothing to do with something I had blurted out in a moment of desperation and stupidity.

Although maybe it did.

Because as much as acknowledging that the way I felt had anything to do with how Aaron and I had left things on Saturday was the last thing I wanted to do, I had. And as much as I refused to waste a second of my time worrying over it, I had.

Which was absolutely ridiculous because why would I want last Saturday—or him—to take any space in my head? I had no reason to. Not consciously at least. We weren’t friends. We didn’t owe anything to each other. And whatever he had said—or done, or looked like, or smelled like, or the way he had smiled or held me as we danced or even whatever he had whispered in my damn ear—should have bounced right off me.

But apparently, my mind had other ideas.

“Being your friend has always been the last thing on my mind.”

Those had been his words. He couldn’t have said it any clearer.

Fine by me. I had never wanted to be his friend either. Except maybe for a couple of days when he had first started at InTech.

But that ship had sailed long ago. I had blacklisted him for a reason, and that was where he should have stayed. In my blacklist.

The only teeny-tiny problem was that I sort of needed him. And I … God. I’d deal with that later.

Shaking off all of Aaron’s drama and burying deep that kernel of uneasiness so it did not grow into something else, I placed my bag on my chair, grabbed my planner, and made my way to the room where our monthly Breakfast & Broadcast was held. Jeff, our boss and head of the Solutions Division of the company, and all five teams that he coordinated attended. And no, we didn’t have breakfast and watch the news. Unfortunately. It was just a meeting that took place once a month, where bad coffee and a really sad excuse for cookies were provided and where Jeff updated our division on the latest news and announcements.

Being one of the first in the room, I took my usual place, opened my planner, and went through a few reminders I had noted down for the week while the room filled out with people.

Feeling a soft brush of a hand on my arm and the light scent of peaches, I turned, already knowing who I’d find smiling down at me.

“Hey, Jim’s or Greenie’s for lunch?” Rosie asked in a hushed voice.

“I’d sell my soul for a bagel from Jim’s, but I shouldn’t.” Today was definitely not a salad day; my mood would plummet down even more, but the wedding was right around the corner. “So, Greenie’s.”

“Are you sure?” Rosie’s gaze slid to the cookies displayed on the narrow table placed at the entrance of the room. “God, those look worse than usual.”

I chuckled, and before I could answer, my stomach grumbled. “Kinda regretting not having breakfast,” I murmured, looking at my friend with a grimace.

“Lina.” Rosie frowned, her voice holding a warning edge. “That’s not you, sweetie. That diet you have been on, it’s just stupid.”

“It’s not a diet.” I rolled my eyes, ignoring the voice in my head that was agreeing with my friend. “I’m just watching what I eat.”

She cut me a look that told me she didn’t believe me. “We are going to Jim’s.”

“Trust me, after the weekend I had, I’d let you take me there, and I’d raid the place, but it’s gonna be a no.”

My friend searched my face, probably finding something in there because an eyebrow arched. “What did you do?”

I leaned back on my chair, a little huff leaving my lips. “I did not—” I stopped myself. I had done plenty. “I’ll tell you later, okay?”

Her eyes filled with concern. “At Jim’s.” With one last nod, Rosie shifted past me and walked to the chair next to Héctor, her team leader.

When I caught the eye of the old man, I waved at him with a small smile, receiving a wink from him.

And then—catching me completely off guard, even when it shouldn’t have—my Aaron radar went off. Warning me of his presence.

My heart lurched in my chest, and my gaze hunted him down.

He is not that good-looking. He’s just tall, I told myself as I took him in.

Something in my rib cage sped up.

It was the tuxedo because my body is surely not reacting to that button-down shirt and those pressed slacks, I thought as my eyes followed his long strides to the chair I knew he’d take a couple of rows in front of me and to my left.

Yeah, his face is certainly nothing to write home about, I reminded myself as I studied his hard and masculine profile, from his jaw to the dark line of thick hair framing his forehead.

See? I’ve got this under control. My body is back to normal. I didn’t need the comfort of a cream cheese and salmon bagel.

But then Aaron looked back. His eyes met mine across the room. Finding me looking at him in a way I presumed was a little too intense for someone who had sworn wouldn’t pay him any attention only a few minutes ago.

I felt my cheeks flush a deep shade of red, and I’d bet I looked like my whole face was on fire.

And yet, the one who averted his gaze first wasn’t me. It was him. Aaron’s eyes fell down and stayed somewhere ahead. Somewhere that wasn’t me.

Something