Two figures were waiting in front of her building.
Her brows furrowed as her gaze locked on Jamie, with her sharp blue eyes, claw-clipped blonde hair, and crisp blouse-and-skirt combo, and the man beside her: broad shoulders, olive-green jumper, grey sweatpants, sneakers, backwards hat over messy black curls, and that smug grin she had hoped to never see again after the end of the surf event. Ilias.
Che cazzo vogliono?And how did they know where she lived?
“Should I file a restraining order?” Sofia greeted them, eyes narrowing mainly at Ilias, who only grinned wider. Unfortunately, it was a very good smile. His white teeth gleamed against tawny skin and light dark stubble.
“Hear us out first before jumping to conclusions, habiba.”
She turned to Jamie. Ignoring him completely. “Why are you here?”
“Hello to you too, Sofia. Can I call you Sofia and not Doctor Moretti Gómez? It’s such a mouthful.”
No.
“Yes,” she said tightly.
Defensiveness was her default setting when faced with unexpected visits and unclear intentions. Which prompted her bitchy attitude even to Jamie whom she should treat better since she was the only reason TerraVive could decide to sponsor Salacia. Panic filled her mind.
Was Jamie here to tell her she wasn’t getting sponsored? And Ilias was just tagging along to annoy her into madness? But that didn’t make sense, she could have just ignored her like she had done the entire weekend.
“We need to talk business,” Jamie said.
Alright.
“Positively or negatively?” Sofia asked, adjusting the heavy tote bag digging into her shoulder.
Surprisingly, Ilias stepped forward and took it from her without asking.
“Depends on you. But let me carry this.”
She was tempted to snap it back but Ilias had already slung it over his shoulder, and her own was silently screaming with relief.
“Let’s go to my apartment.” She sighed.
This ambush wasn’t on her bingo card, but if it meant something good for Salacia, she’d put up with Jamie and the smug surfer beside her. For someone who’d just been suspended for two USL events, he looked very cheerful. He was skipping Bali and El Salvador, if she remembered correctly. Not that she cared. Alejandra had told her. That was it.
“I hate these stairs,” Jamie groaned as they climbed up the narrow staircase of her Portuguese building. They were a pain inthe ass, especially after grocery shopping, but they kept her legs strong.
“I’m not complaining,” Ilias said from behind her.
She glanced over her shoulder and caught the bastard quite literally staring at her ass. At his eye-level.
Ilias just grinned, not even trying to hide that he had been caught. She sped up the last few steps, cheeks heating, and fumbled the door open.
She let them in. Inviting the devil into her sanctuary.
The windows were cracked to let the ocean breeze inside. The salty air was humid and ever-present, and without proper airflow, it would ruin everything. Her papers, her paintings, even the walls.
“Do you want something to drink?” she offered, trying to be polite.
Ilias set her bag carefully on the table.
“No, let’s just get this over with,” Jamie said with a sigh.
Whatever she was about to say, she clearly didn’t enjoy it. Sofia’s curiosity spiked. They sat. Jamie and Ilias on the couch, Sofia in the armchair.
“So? What’s so important that it couldn't be sent in an email?” she asked, mostly directing it at Jamie.
