Page 24 of His Secret

He walks closer, patting his pockets for the keys. “Yeah. Sorry, uhh…” I shake my head in disbelief that this is happening. “I might’ve left them in the truck.”

I turn to go back to my car, but his voice stops me.

“Matías.” I freeze, still giving him my back until I finally angle my head over my shoulder. He doesn’t seem to know what it is he wants to say. Or he’s cycling through a million different things. “I?—”

Before he can continue, a door bangs shut and then another voice joins us. “Hey, what’s going on?”

I stare at my car, biting down on my teeth. I can’t deal with this right now. Or ever. I don’t want to.

“I just need to move the truck for the neighbor,” Adrian says.

Instead of turning around and doing the friendly neighbor thing of introducing myself, I walk straight to my car and hide behind the tinted windows until Adrian moves the truck and I can pull into my garage.

What is happening?

CHAPTER NINE

MATÍAS

Luckily for me,Wednesday and Thursday don’t include any sightings of Adrian. At least not at work. He’s been home both days, moving stuff into the house and meeting other neighbors. I only know because I’ve seen him each time I’ve driven in or out of the garage.

But now it’s Friday morning, and the day he was scheduled to initially start, so with every footstep that approaches my door, I expect it to be him coming to talk to me. When I venture out to go to another floor for a meeting, I think I’ll run into him.

It isn’t until lunch time, when I’m heading toward the elevators, that he finally corners me.

“Hey.”

I look over and find him in a nice, black suit. “Hey.”

The doors open, and the two of us walk in. I press L and he leans in the corner. “Getting lunch?”

“Itislunchtime,” I reply.

“Maybe you’ll let me join you,” he asks, a little timidly. “You can fill me in on all the good places to eat.”

“You livedhere before.”

“It’s been eight years.”

“I’m aware,” I say.

“Some places aren’t here anymore, and there’s a lot of new businesses.”

The doors open and one of the guys waiting outside nods to me. “Mr. Cruz.”

I dip my chin and give him a small grin as a greeting. Adrian follows behind me.

“What about that pizza diner?”

I know exactly what he’s talking about, and I’m not sure why he’d bring up the place we often went to together. Is he trying to torture me?

“No. It’s too far from the business district, and I have to be back in”—I look at my watch for the time—“seventy minutes for a meeting.”

He snorts. “Okay, fine. Where are you going?”

“There’s a bistro a block and a half away.”

“Okay.”

---