Page 24 of Sweet Heart

“I actually needed you to sign off on this order.”

She hands me a piece of paper that I sign without even looking at it. The words are dancing before my eyes, so I just have to put my trust in her. And if there is anyone in this hospital I’d trust as much as myself, it is Carmen.

When she steps out of the office, she glances over her shoulder one last time. Her mouth opens as if she wants to say something, but then snaps shut. Good. As soon as the door closes behind her, I reach for my cellphone. My fingers dart over the screen, typing that I can’t do this, that it’s not right, that it’s unethical. A storm welling up inside me.

But right before I press send, I can picture her blue eyes darting over the screen. The confusion at the rejection. The withdrawal as she reads the reasons I’ve listed. It is enough to make me delete the entire thing.

My fingers dart over the keys again, before I can stop myself or think it through. Some primal urge takes over, pushing everything aside.

01:49 p.m. – Katherina

Yes, I will take you there. Tomorrow at 8. I’ll text you the address.

My heart thuds against my ribs as I stare at my screen. Did I just ask her out on a date? A real date? Not grabbing coffee somewhere, but actual dinner? No… I said I would text her the address. That’s just two people hanging out. That’s all this is.

Dios mío, what is she doing to you?

Every time I plan to put a stop to this, she sucks me in further, making me take a step in the wrong direction. What kind of magic is this?

01:50 p.m. – Mary Mary

Really!?

I blink at my screen. That’s how.

01:50 p.m. – Katherina

Yes, really.

Carmen’s words echo in my mind. It might be worth taking the chance. What if she is right? What if this is my only chance?

No.

I’ve never believed in things like soulmates or destiny. Life is what you make of it. And dear lord, am I making a mess of it right now.

Chapter 09

Mary

I run the palms of my hands over my dress yet again to gather the courage to go inside. The fabric feels slick and cool under my fingers and it instantly slinks back into place. My throat bobs and my pulse kicks up when I step through the door.

I am instantly surrounded by color—orange, purple, the deep green of plants hanging from the ceiling, and the soft tints from the bamboo interior. Rhythmic drums, light trumpets, and a gentle, sultry voice from a live band playing in the back fill the silence. People are talking loudly, throwing their heads back laughing, and even dancing among the dining tables. It’s enough to nearly make my eyes pop out of my head, and I can’t stop a grin from creeping onto my face.

When Cat took the bait and actually asked me out to dinner, I had expected something classy. Something with white linen tablecloths and soft classical music playing in the background. But Old Havana couldn’t be further from that if it tried. This place is dripping with soul and passion, like the restaurant itself has a heartbeat.

“¡Buenas noches! ¿Tienen una reserva?” a young, joyful-looking waiter asks.

I gulp and scan the room. Cat’s not here yet. Shit. Uhm, no. I can do this.

“Uhm, yes. Sí. Uhm, para dos personas. Con el nombre…de Catherine Durand?”

The waiter grins, and my cheeks burn. The color only intensifies when I hear a soft huff behind me.

“That was… an admirable attempt.”

I bite my lip as I turn to look over my shoulder. Cat has a smug grin on her face, and her gaze rests on mine, amused. Her dark hair, which I’ve only seen up in a tight chignon until now, cascades over her shoulders in waves. She wears a thin-strapped black dress that shows off her collarbones and dips lower than I would have ever dared to expect on her. Her brown eyes widen slightly as her gaze glides over my body, and suddenly I am very aware of every unwanted little curve, blob, and fold. But that’s not what I see reflected in her eyes. Not in the slightest.

“Cat, hi…” I breathe like a thirteen-year-old, but her grin turns into a genuine smile regardless.