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

to be my made-up boyfriend was probably delusional. But accepting that Aaron was my only choice and taking him up on his offer? That was straight-up insanity.

“I see it’s finally seeping in.” Aaron’s words brought me back to the present, and I found his blue eyes aimed at me. “I’ll let you come to terms with it on your own. Just let me know when you do.”

My lips pursed. And when I felt my cheeks burn again—because how lame was I for him, Aaron Blackford, who had never even liked me a tiny little bit, to pity me enough to offer himself to be my date?—I crossed my arms over my chest and averted my eyes from those two icy and ruthless spots.

“Oh, and, Catalina?”

“Yeah?” The word left my lips weakly. Ugh, pathetic.

“Try not to be late to our ten o’clock meeting. It’s not cute anymore.”

My gaze shot to him, a huff stuck in my throat.

Jerk.

I swore right then and there that one day, I’d find a ladder high enough, climb it, and chuck something really hard at his infuriating face.

One year and eight months. That was how long I had endured him. I had been counting, biding my time.

Then, with nothing more than a nod, he turned around, and I watched him walk away. Dismissed until further notice.

“Okay, that was …” Rosie’s voice trailed off, not ending the statement.

“Maddening? Insulting? Bizarre?” I offered, bringing my hands to my face.

“Unexpected,” she countered. “And interesting.”

Looking at her between my fingers, I watched the corners of her lips tug up.

“Your friendship has been revoked, Rosalyn Graham.”

She chuckled. “You know you don’t mean that.”

I didn’t; she’d never get rid of me.

“So …” Rosie linked her arm with mine and ushered me down the hallway. “What are you going to do?”

A shaky exhale left my mouth, taking all my energy with it. “I … I don’t have the slightest idea.”

But I knew something for sure: I was not taking Aaron Blackford up on his offer. He wasn’t my only option, and he surely wasn’t my best one either. Hell, he wasn’t my anything. Especially not my date to my sister’s wedding.

Chapter Two

I wasn’t late to our meeting.

Ever since that day a year and eight months ago, I was never late.

Why?

Aaron Blackford.

One time. I had been late one single time in Aaron’s presence, and yet he kept flaunting that fact every chance he got.

He never chalked it up to me being Spanish or a woman. Both unjustified stereotypes when it came to being notoriously unpunctual.

Aaron didn’t do nonsense. He pointed out facts; he stated verifiable truths. He had been disciplined to do that, just like every other engineer in the consulting company where we worked, me included. And technically, I had been late. That one time all those months ago. It was true that I had missed the first fifteen minutes of an important presentation. It was also true that it had been Aaron leading it—during his first week in InTech—and it was again true that I had made a miserably loud entrance that might have involved accidentally knocking over a coffee pitcher.

On Aaron’s stack of dossiers for the presentation.

Fine, partly on his pants too.

Not the best way to make an impression on a new colleague, but tough shit. Things like that happened all the time. Tiny, unintentional, unexpected accidents like those were common. People got over them and went on with their lives.

But not Aaron.

Instead, week after week and month after month ever since that day, he had barked stuff like, “Try not to be late to our ten o’clock meeting. It’s not cute anymore,” at me.

Instead, every single time he entered a conference room and found me sitting there, painfully early, he checked the watch on his wrist and raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Instead, he moved coffee pitchers out of my reach with a warning tilt of his head in my direction.

That was what Aaron Blackford did instead of letting go of that incident.

“Good morning, Lina.” Héctor’s kind voice reached me from the door.

I could tell he was smiling before I took in his face, just like he always did. “Buenos días, Héctor,” I told him in the mother tongue we shared.

The man that I considered like an uncle after he welcomed me into the close circle of his family placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed lightly. “Doing good, mija?”

“Can’t complain.” I returned the smile.

“You coming over to the next barbecue? It’s next month, and Lourdes keeps telling me to remind you. She’s preparing ceviche this time, and you are the only one that will eat it.” He laughed.

It was true; no one in the Díaz family was a big fan of the fish-based Mexican dish. Which, to this day, I still couldn’t understand.

“Stop asking dumb questions, old man.” I waved my hand in the air with a chuckle. “Of course I’ll be there.”

Héctor was taking his usual place to my right when our three remaining colleagues in attendance poured into the room, mumbling their good mornings.

Lifting my gaze off Héctor’s easy smile, my eyes tracked down the men walking around the table to assemble into our ten o’clock formation.

Across from me appeared Aaron, eyebrows raised and gaze quickly meeting mine. I watched his lips tip down as he took a chair out.

Rolling my eyes, I moved onto Gerald, whose bald head glinted under the fluorescent light as he folded his rather chubby frame into the chair. Last but not least, there was Kabir, who had been recently promoted to the position everyone in this room held—team leader of the Solutions Division of the company. Which pretty much encompassed all disciplines but civil engineering. Which was a beast on its own.

“Good morning, everyone,” Kabir started with the enthusiasm only someone who had been on the job for a month would have. “This week, it’s my turn to lead and protocol the meeting, so if you could, please say present when I call your name.”

An exasperated grunt I was extremely