Page 67 of No Darker Temptation

“He was a little too insistent this morning over breakfast.” Karina isn’t convinced. “We don’t need a driver to take us somewhere fifteen minutes away from your house.”

It’s the New Yorker in her that insists on either walking or taking the train everywhere. I can’t say I don’t miss the freedom of coming and going without someone on my tail but it’s a condition I willingly and knowingly accepted. The problem is my cousin is of a different opinion.

At breakfast, she voiced her desire to go sightseeing and visit the places we missed during our first visit last summer. Alejandro said Pedro would take us wherever we wanted to go to which Karina politely declined, content to walk or take public transportation. What followed was an uncomfortable back and forth between the three of us: Alejandro doing his best to convince Karina, Karina refusing, and me trying to broker peace in the middle. At one point Karina’s tone turned sharp when asking if Alejandro was offering us a driver or a chaperone to “keep an eye” on me.

Alejandro very quickly silenced himself after that. Before he left, I managed to convince him to let us go out alone today and promised to share my location on my phone. There isn’t any connection underground so he won’t be able to track me again until I’m above ground. I’ll have to remember to text him once we get to wherever we’re going. Karina’s been in charge of our itinerary, and I’m happy to follow along. Being with her is like a vacation for the brain; I get to shut down and let her take the wheel.

“He wants to make sure I’m safe. I promise it isn’t anything more. He knows I haven’t mastered the language yet and⁠—”

“Which is mind blowing, actually.” Karina folds up her map. “This is our stop.”

We get off the L3 line at Liceu and walk for a minute or two before reaching the marketplace she found online. The buildings around us look vaguely familiar but I can’t place where we are or when and if I’ve been here before. A sign above the entrance reads La Boqueria and Karina loops her arm through mine, dragging me inside.

Despite the heat, hundreds have gathered under the strange, tilted glass roof whose blue tint give the illusion of a ceiling made of steel. All manner of food, pastries, meats, and goods fill the booths, the sweet scent of cinnamon covered churros mingling with vanilla perfume. A food kiosk with an open bar hosts a dozen guests who laugh over glasses of wine and plates of fruit and cheese. Children buy popcorn and candy while a young married couple skim a spice table and debate over different brands of saffron. The further in we go, the more crowded it becomes, and light beams above our heads reflect off of glass display cases.

“This reminds me of Chelsea Market,” I say.

“Yeah but this place doesn’t have L’Arte del Gelato.” Karina sighs dreamily. “However, those candied almonds are calling my name.”

Karina buys enough candies and tins of chocolate to make it look like she robbed a confectionery. Right next to this booth is one selling sausage link, ham, pork shoulders, and canned beef.

My nose crinkles at the pungent smell. “I’ve never seen that much meat in my entire life.”

Karina replies naughtily, “Somehow, I doubt that.”

My head swings around and I swat her shoulder. “Kay!”

“I had to pass by your room last night on my way to the kitchen to get some water.” She pops a handful of candied almonds into her mouth. “I heard things I can never unhear.”

My entire body is burning.

“Oh, oh Alejandro! Ohhh⁠—”

I grab a marshmallow from her candy bag and shove it into her mouth. She chokes on her own laughter and I walk on ahead of her, spotting a booth selling fresh fruit towards the back of the market where a handful of kiosks are shuttered and closed. There’s a sign on one of the support beams pointing to a restroom and after three coconut smoothies I decide to head in that direction.

“Stop being such a bore! I’m just teasing!” she calls after me.

“Yeah, yeah.” I wave a hand over my shoulder. “Didn’t you want to find a gelato booth?”

Karina gasps and spins on the balls of her feet. “Uw, you’re right. Don’t go far!”

We part ways but only briefly. Tiny as she may be, I can still see her at the other end of the aisle, suddenly enamored by a selection of fine cheeses even though she knows she shouldn’t be eating dairy. I gave up on that fight ages ago.

After a brief visit to the restroom, I return to the fruit stand I spotted earlier. Alejandro mentioned he’s in the mood for panetela but hasn’t had the time to make it himself. With help from Doña Ana, I’ve been doing most of the cooking lately but only to be helpful. The kitchen is Alejandro’s safe space to unwind and de-stress and so even though I can cook, I try not to be in there too often.

And I never, ever, ever touch his KitchenAid.

I move around the fruit display and look to see if there are any guavas. Once I spot a few that look ripe enough for a panetela, I drop them into a mesh bag to be weighed. As I’m about to reach for a few oranges that have caught my attention, I feel someone come up from behind me. Assuming it’s Karina, I say, “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“I believe so.”

A man’s voice responds instead. One I don’t recognize.

I turn around.

The man standing behind me is pale with dark hair, darker eyes, and a scar on the left side of his chin. Of average build and slightly below average height, what catches my attention is the black glove he wears on his right hand while the other remains bare. He tilts his head in expectation—perhaps of a response —but he must have me confused with someone else.

“Excuse me.” I try to step around him but he blocks my path.