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“Ana, it’s almost noon,” he says exasperated. “I’ve been waiting for hours!”
“It’s Saturday,” I say, without any further explanation.
“So you didn’t answer my question.”
I think for a minute. “What am I doing every day for the rest of my life?”
“Mhm.”
“Haven’t planned that far yet, gringo,” I say with a slight smile.
“Okay, I’ll plan it out for the both of us.”
I shake my head in amused disbelief, hiding my smile as if he could somehow sense it. “Let’s just start with today. What are you doing today?”
“Ana Reyes, are you propositioning me?” His voice goes up slightly at the end of the sentence. I groan.
“It’s too early to deal with your shit right now,” I say, half joking but half serious.
He laughs on the other end.
“I’m working this evening. And that’s not an invitation for you to come by and bother me at the restaurant.”
“That’s absurd, I would never do that.”
I sigh and chuckle. “I’ll call you later.”
He lets out a resigned sigh. “I’ll be waiting, most ardently.”
I pause. “Did you just reference Mr. Darcy?”
There is a beat of silence before he says, “You’ve seen Pride and Prejudice?” I can hear the surprise and disbelief in his tone.
“You’ve seen Pride and Prejudice?” I counter with the same surprise and disbelief.
“I have a sister, Ana.”
“Yeah, and I have a Madeline,” I chuckle. “My best friend.”
“Yeah, my sister made me watch it the first time, but the next seventy-five times were of my own choice.”
“Yeah, it’s better than I was expecting. I actually love it. But don’t tell Madeline,” I say with a sigh. “Bye, Hayden.”
But before I can hang up he says, “Wait before you go! I have a song to send to you. It reminded me of you, and you should listen to it.”
I smile, eyebrows raising even though he can’t see my face. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he says back, but I can hear the smile in his voice. “Bye, Ana Reyes.”
“Bye, Hayden Albrecht.”
I hang up and then stretch, trying to rid myself of the lingering sleepiness I’m still feeling. I slowly drag myself out of bed, pushing my maroon and black striped comforter aside and scooting until my feet find purchase on the floor. I groggily make my way out of my room to find Madeline sitting at the counter on her laptop and sipping a cup of coffee. I’m sure that it’s her second of the day already.
“Morning, amor,” I tell her and make my way to the coffee pot to pour my own cup.
“Good morning, glad to see you weren’t murdered by the weirdo,” she says, giving me a pointed look.
“I texted you several times telling you that I was okay.” I turn with my hand on my hip, giving her a look.
