“Elly, did you know that Cartagena is known as the ‘heroic city’?” Sebastian turned to me just before the doorway out of the hall. Behind his glasses, his dark eyes shone with excitement. This energy brought something to my soul. For the first time in days, I felt happy.
“I didn’t,” I replied. “But it’s quite fitting.”
Was I to find my hero in this city? Or was he standing right in front of me?
CHAPTER18
SEBASTIAN
Ihad dated a lot of women in my time, although…maybe “dated” wasn’t the right word for it. Because that would imply some form of commitment, something long-term.
My only real commitment had been to the desk that had moved with me from office to office, floor to floor in the company’s headquarters. I’d been with her for a good five years.
There was something about Elly that intrigued me. If all the other women I’d dated had had dollar bills in their eyes, Elly…well, she almost scoffed at my attempts to impress her when naming my financial conquests.
Not that that means anything. This is still strictly business.
All the same, I was beginning to hope that business deal might not suck as much as I had anticipated.
I had to show her the city the next day. Since Father was still distracted with the aftermath of Elonzo and his never-meant-to-be-wife’s wedding, I used the opportunity to show Elly everything she’d been missing out on cooped up in her hotel room.
To think of all the tourists who came to Cartagena just to sit like a piece of flesh in bouillon soup, stinking of chlorine without setting foot into the magic beyond the automatic doors of their hotel! Insane!
Though in Elly’s case, with that hot head of an agent, completely understandable.
I was in the parking lot of the hotel by nine fifteen a.m. She had two more days booked in the place before she needed to make her final decision: take the flight home, or move into my place.
I was hoping, and I was ninety-nine-point-nine percent certain, it was going to be my place. I had the contract we had discussed the previous afternoon in a sealed file at the back of the car. I could feel its weight upon me, especially the blank spaces in the place where Elly’s signature was about to go.
I saw her appear at the top of the stairs.Better hold off from telling her about the contract just yet. Leave it till later when she is in high spirits.
She waited for me to approach. I could see it frustrated her every time she had to ask or, not even ask, but a gesture, ever so slightly, that she couldn’t do something because of her injury.
I have to be honest. I relished it. Her soft hands gripped my shoulder, at times a little too tightly when it felt like she was losing control but even then, I liked it. It allowed me to be close to her. It was the only closeness I would allow myself.
“Good morning,” she said. She looked better today, the tired circles under her eyes less prominent. Her face was brighter. She even offered a small smile when I approached.
It’s good to know that your future wife doesn’t despise you.
“Good morning,” I said. She placed her hand gingerly on my shoulder and I helped her down the stairs.
“It’s so hot today, isn’t it?” She wiped her brow, which was already dotted with beads of sweat.
“It’s what we call Cartagena Hot. Hot plus eighty-five percent humidity.”
Her eyes widened. “And I thought Florida was bad.”
“This is just the beginning, Elly. It only gets hotter from now on.” As I said her name, I realized it was the first time I had said her name out loud. It felt familiar, but also like I’d crossed a line. I had said it so many times inside my head, but now I was hearing the syllables blend in the stagnant air.
Elly didn’t seem to notice. “So, what’s our first stop?”
I opened the car door for her and grinned. “Getsemani.”
* * *
I’d been to this neighborhood so often as a kid that it at some point stopped impressing me. But as we walked (and hobbled) down the colorful streets of Getsemani, it felt like I was seeing this area through new eyes. Through Elly’s.
“So…” I said, pausing by a mural on the street. “…this is what this street is famous for. Block after block of vibrant colors and street art. Although, I feel even the name ‘street art’ doesn’t do these pieces justice.”