“I don't have anything prepared. Should we order something?” I suggested.
“Should we order pizza?” he suggested.
“Chinese food?” I proposed.
“Perfect, I'll call,” he confirmed.
“I'm going to change because I'm still wearing my work clothes and they're not the most comfortable.”
“But they look very sexy on you. I've always liked those tight little suits you wear,” he said, with that mischievous smile I knew so well.
I grabbed a pillow and threw it at him while he dodged it and laughed.
During dinner, we talked a lot about his paintings and his upcoming conversation with Catalina, as they had arranged to meet and talk the next day.
“Do you have any idea what she's going to propose?” I asked.
“I assure you I don't. As I told you, we've never talked about it. Whenever my mother was present when Hermes and I argued about it, she limited herself to supporting my brother without even showing interest in seeing my paintings. I suppose she always thought it was just a hobby,” he concluded, shrugging his shoulders.
“I want to believe that after seeing your artwork, she'll support your dream. She can't not do it,” I affirmed.
“I still have a major obstacle—my brother. Who, by the way, isn't in his best mood because lately he's been more bad-tempered than ever.”
When he mentioned him, my stomach did a flip, but I tried to hide it by taking a sip of wine.
“But if your mother supports you, why do you have to do what he says?”
“In my family, whatever Hermes says or proposes is sacred.”
“I can't believe it! Your little brother really tests my patience!”
Baco laughed and then looked at me like something had just occurred to him.
“Would you come with me to the meeting with my mother?”
“I don't think that would be appropriate. It's a private conversation between mother and son.”
“I need you as an ally,” he pleaded, pressing his palms together as if praying.
“Baco, I can't get involved. Who am I to interfere in your family matters? Impossible.”
“Let’s clear this up,” he said, and I watched as he took out his phone, pressed it and then held it to his ear.
“What are you doing?!” I asked, looking at him in horror, because I feared what eventually ended up happening.
“Hello, Mom.”
“…”
“Very well. I’m currently having dinner with Delfina, who is asking me to send you her regards.”
“…”
“I’ll pass them along. I wanted to ask you something about our meeting tomorrow.”
“…”
“Of course I’m coming, I’m not calling to cancel. I want to ask if you mind if I bring Delfina with me.”
