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Ouch. That stings.
I turn to him, my eyes narrow, my lips tight.
“You don’t know me, Desidério Gabriel,” I say, parroting the same words he said to me earlier.
He faces me, crossing his arms over his chest and looking me straight in the eye. “Maybe not...but, I know that you are young and beautiful and very rich, but you have the weight of the world on your shoulders. You yell. You frown. You’re angry. You’re sad. You’re traveling alone. You—”
“Isthatwhat this is about?” I scoff, putting my hands on my hips. “I don’t have a boyfriend or husband with me? I have the audacity to be a solo female traveler?” My chuckle is humorless. “It’s not just your stories that are misogynistic!”
“I have seen a hundred woman traveling alone,” he counters, “who arehappy. They are fulfilled and confident and full of positive energy. They are living the life they want.” He pauses, tilting his head to the side. “Why aren’t you?”
“I am!”
“No,” he says softly, shaking his head back and forth slowly. “You are not.”
“How do you know?”
“Because there is music, but you don’t dance. There are songs, but you don’t sing. There is food, but you don’t eat.”
“Now, wait a sec—”
“You know what I think, Yara Marino?” He says, stepping toward me until we are just about nose-to-nose. “I think you never left New York. Your body might be in Brazil, but your head is stuck back there.”
I stare at him—at this cocky, sexy, bartender-tour guide-truth-sayer whom I only met yesterday—with mounting fury. Sure, what he’s saying makes sense. It even resonates with me. But I’m furious that he’s called me out on it. I’m on vacation! I’m the guest and he’s the help! Who the hell does he think he is talking to me like this?
My hands fist at my sides as I lift my chin in defiance of his observations.
“You know what I think, Desidério Gabriel? I didn’t ask for your opinions or advice, and I don’t give a flying fuck what you think. Go to hell!”
And with that, I turn on my heel and head back to my cabin.
CHAPTER 5
There are four canoesavailable to passengers the next morning and I am careful to arrive early and line up for Lucas’ group. When Rio raises his hand in greeting, I look away quickly, focusing my attention on Lucas’ smiling face like my life depends on it. I will myself not to glance in Rio’s direction again as I take a seat on the canoe and our group of six sets forth for the shore in the quickly brightening day.
I had trouble falling asleep last night, my thoughts plagued by my conversations with Harvey and Rio.
