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“You’re really bossy. Do you know that?” I lean against her and laugh.
“Yes. My boss tell me that all the time,” she retorts, giggling. “Now, go get your man.”
Miguel’s hotel door opens and he smiles. My nerves rise up as I stare up at him. This is a bad idea. I don’t know how I let Hayva talk me into rushing to find him.
My first stop was going to be my parent’s house; however, I called ahead and found out my dad had dropped him off at the hotel a few hours ago. So I changed my route and headed to the hotel. It took me ten minutes to gather enough nerves to get the hell out of my car. And, now I was standing in front of him and ready to run for it.
“Hey, Beautiful,” Miguel smiles. “Come in.”
He opens the door wider. I smile slightly then rush past him, inside the room. He closes the door behind us.
“Make yourself comfortable,” he says, gesturing around the room.
I look around for the best place to sit for this conversation. There’s the single chair at the desk, the bed, and the hot tub ledge. The options aren’t ideal but I choose to sit on the edge of the bed. Miguel sits beside me.
“How was work?” Miguel asks softly. He turns to face me.
“It was good. Closed on one house. Another one should be closing soon.”
“That’s great news. Selling houses like crazy,” he smiles. “Your parents brag about you being the best realtor on the planet.”
His words make me laugh.
“They’re biased. I wouldn’t take their opinion to heart,” I giggle.
“I don’t know. Your statistics back up their opinion,” he grins. “I might need to hire you.”
“Hire me?” I ask sheepishly, unsure of why he would need me to be his realtor.
“Well, it is still up in the air. I need to talk to someone first but I may be relocating back here.”
His words are music to my ear. My heart skips several beats as I stare up at him. The feeling of hope is rising deep inside me.
Maybe there is a chance.
“Do you have a business deal here?” I ask faintly.
“Business deal?”
“You said you needed to talk to someone first. I thought it was business related… Is it personal?”
“Personal.”
“I see,” I whisper.
“The someone I need to talk to is you, Ysenia,” he smiles. He grabs my hand gently and brings it up to his lips. He kisses it softly. “I never knew you had a crush on me when we were younger.”
“What? Who told you?” I gasp absolutely mortified.
“Your parents,” he chuckles. “But don’t be embarrassed. I’m glad they told me.”
“You are?”
“Definitely. It makes things easier,” he smiles.
His words are like a very intricate web. They can be taken in so many ways. My mind is going down a rabbit hole and I’m beginning to feel overwhelmed again.
“You’re confusing me, Miguel. What are you talking about?”
