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It’s just that I don’t know how to make him talk.
Francisco approaches us just as the people gather again around the table.
“We can’t talk right now,” Alejandro says. “Maybe when we go back…” he adds, not looking at me, and I don’t hold much hope he’s willing to talk to me.
We return to the table. They take their seats while I slide into mine, a blob of tension.
I’m not very good at this.
Normally, I’d pull away from this kind of setting. I’m not a very patient person, and I spend too much time in my head as it is.
Waiting for an opportunity to clarify some things when the answers are elusive, and their behavior is unexplainable only makes me more restless.
Somehow, I survive the next few minutes.
The meeting is over, yet it’s followed by a Q and A session. The answers like the questions fly past me, and now I seriously doubt I’ll be able to hold this job come Monday morning.
Which is tomorrow.
The thought makes me grind my teeth. I wish I had a better grip on this. Luckily we’re free to leave an hour later, and soon we are back on the ship.
I don’t seek out their company while they spend time with the group.
I’m fairly sure Alejandro’s promise means nothing, and once we get to the shore, I don’t look in their direction and head to the limousines like everybody else.
And then Alejandro calls my name.
“Raven?”
I spin around. Alejandro and Francisco wait by their car. I figure they’re not inviting me in. It only has two seats.
My prediction is wrong.
Francisco glances at me before rounding the car and sliding into his white Lamborghini.
Alejandro signals to me to follow him to a different car.
“I thought you two shared a ride,” I say, climbing into his car.
He slides into the driver’s seat.
“Francisco spent the night at the hotel, and I came from a different place,” he says, checking the road in the rearview mirror.
I keep my eyes on his face.
Neither of us wears sunglasses. He starts the engine but doesn’t look at me.
It feels like he’s ice cold inside.
I touch him.
“Alejandro?”
We’re still not moving.
“He did it on purpose,” he says, his voice carrying the edge of frustration.
“What?”
