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“No, you’re a writer and soon-to-be director, Miss Gaines,” he said, kissing her before hurrying out the door.
She took in deep breaths as she watched Javier sip his drink, taking all the time in the world and drawing out the tension between them. The bastard was probably doing it on purpose.
“Well,” he said, finally looking at her. “You’ve certainly worked magic here.”
“Because you assumed my screenplay was garbage?”
“No, because I haven’t seen a woman get to my brother like this in a long time. You’re very talented. I can’t ignore that, and you make Xavier happy…for now.”
She swallowed hard but didn’t look away. Sandra wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “I know I’m the last thing that could be considered rich. I know that we’re painfully different, and that I didn’t come from the right kind of family.”
“I’m not a bigot. I don’t care about that part of it,” Javier said, setting down his glass. “I care because my brother was broken years ago.”
“Oh.”
“A woman tore his heart out, took so much from him. I want to believe in happy endings and fairy tales, that my brother is finally getting his second chance. Of course, Xavier’s the optimist, and I’m the cynic.”
“I’m not going to hurt him. You can burn the damn screenplay and not fund it, or I’ll go someplace else. If I don’t have Xav, then I don’t have anything. He saved my life, and I love him.”
Javier’s eyes grew wide. “Xavier hadn’t mentioned that part yet.”
Tears threatened to fall, but she pushed them back. She wasn’t going to show weakness before Javier. Of course, Xav would get her jewelry and give her beautiful promises. Yes, they were committed for now, but how far did it go? Would he grow tired of her in a year? In five? How much could she trust? Everything had been a whirlwind so far, and that was an understatement. Still, if he hadn’t even circled the L-word with Javier by now…well, would she just end up a flavor of the month?
“Oh.”
“Yes, but I want to hope. I want to make this all work as a show of good faith. You have the heart of the best man I’ve ever known in the palm of your hand, Miss Gaines. Just don’t crush it.”
***
Two months later…
She swooned and would have fallen standing out in front of the Sagrada Família if Tonya hadn’t caught her. The heat of the early September sun was bearing down on her, but Sandra had suffered from a lack of energy and everything else these days. She assumed it was because of how fast the pace for pre-production on the film was going. Since the movie revolved around a haunting at the famous church, she and Xavier were staying in Barcelona for the duration of filming. He had some more business to deal with over the union mess anyway, so it was a perfect arrangement. Living together was bliss, but she hadn’t heard an “I love you” yet, and she was growing scared she might never hear those precious words from his lips.
Tonya helped her to her feet and led her up the stairs and into the cool, stone nave. She slid onto the pew and wanted to cry. She hadn’t been feeling well at all the last month, at least, and she’d gained weight. Granted, she’d never been slim and leggy like her best friend, but she’d put on at least ten pounds. Okay, maybe more like fifteen. Part of her was trying to blame movie stress and the wonders of tapas and other food fattening her up. No matter what it was, Sandra didn’t feel like herself at all, and she hated it.
“Okay,” Tonya said, switching to a whisper when a passing priest frowned at them. “What gives? You know you’ve been pale as a sheet since I got to Spain, right? Are you anemic or something?”
She shook her head, although an iron deficiency would explain why she felt horrid. “I…I think I’ve been working too hard.”
“Really?”
“What?” she prodded, forcing her tone to stay low and quiet. It wouldn’t be good to curse in a church, even though that knowing look Tonya was giving her made her anxious and annoyed all at once. “Seriously, you’re thinking something.”
“I’m thinking that you’ve been here, in Spain, and you’ve been having sex like a bunny when not working your tail off to get pre-production done.”
“And?”
“And sometimes things happen…” Tonya said. Then she cupped her own stomach. “Are you sure you’re not, you know, in the family way?”
“Huh?”
“Preggers, with child, have a bun in the oven. I mean, that’s possible, right?”
“Not unless it’s with the antichrist or via alien abduction. We’re really careful. I take my pill with laser precision, and Xav has protection too.”
“I just thought that could be a reason,” she said, biting her lower lip.
“No. I…” Then Sandra paused, remembering that time over three months ago back in the alley by Park Güell. She’d been inconsistent coming off the jet lag with her pills, and they hadn’t used any other protection then. “Oh no.”
