Page 13 of Sleeping with the Frenemy

The call connected. “El Coquí restaurant, home of the mayor’s favorite jibarito sandwich. How can I help you?”

Sofi froze. Despite the waterlogged roughness that told her that the speaker had been crying recently, she recognized the voice. It was the voice she heard in her head commenting on the new sights and sounds Sofi experienced as she toured Paris. It was the voice of the person who was supposed to have been at Sofi’s side making those same comments. The best friend who would’ve been there if she hadn’t lied to Sofi and ruined both of their futures. Sofi hit the end button.

She flopped back onto her bed trying to figure out what to do now. She balled her fist and went to pound it on the mattress but instead hit something hard. She turned her head and saw her closed laptop next to her. Suddenly, she had another idea. She sat up, pulled her laptop onto her crossed legs, and immediately opened her email app. As soon as she typed anL, the address she was looking for popped up. She rolled her eyes like she always did when she clicked on [email protected]. She knew that he barely used the account anymore, but she hoped he’d still have it attached to his phone.

Their email history popped up on her screen, hundreds of emails between the two of them, some normal, some silly, some serious, and some sexy. Sofi ignored the final one from Leo that had been sent about two months ago. She didn’t need to read it to know what it said. It was only one word.Coward.

She shushed the little voice in her head that said he was right. Instead she hit the button to compose a new email. She sat there wondering what to say. She wanted to tell him how terrified she felt and how much she wished she were there, but she knew that was the worst thing she could do. That would just start everything all over again. After starting and deleting multiple messages that revealed too much, she huffed and typed,I’m glad you’re okay. Get better soon... And please take care of yourself.She almost added “for me” but decided that was too much. Before she could second-guess herself again, she hit the send button and grimaced. That was not the best, but it was the only thing she could allow herself to say. To prevent herself from the temptation of writing again, she deleted their entire history, emptied her trash to make sure it was permanent, and blocked his email address. Then after reminding herself of her mission, Sofi went to her balcony to finish off her bottle of wine while the gorgeous sight, that only a few minutes ago had given her peace, blurred due to the tears streaming down her face.

Back in the present, Sofi stared at her computer screen, but she wasn’t processing anything she was looking at. She wasn’t sure how long it had been since she’d mentally checked out, but she did know that this was happening more and more lately. She’d thought taking a year abroad to escape her drama and doing all the traveling she’d felt deprived of would cure her of this feeling, but if anything, things seemed worse. She told herself every morning that this would be the day she finally did it—quit her job. Just that morning, the day after Memorial Day, she tried to amp herself. Then she’d look at her sad bank account and remember that she needed to figure out her next step before she quit. Plus, her relationship with her dad was shaky enough. She didn’t even want to imagine how bad it would be once she told him she wanted to leave the company—his company, her grandfather’s company. It would blow everything up as if things weren’t bad enough.

Everything seemed a little bit worse now. Even Leo’s initial reaction to seeing her. Usually he couldn’t hide how pleased he was to see her even when he claimed otherwise. This time it was as if he’d run into a vaguely familiar stranger. No it had been worse than that. The look of utter disregard on his face had made it seem like she was not only a stranger, but one he had no interest in getting to know.

Fucking Leo Vega, the eternal jackass and fuckboy extraordinaire.

He’d been a thorn in her side since the day they’d met and Sofi was often shocked that she’d never even attempted to junk-punch him. There had been plenty of times he’d deserved it. Like when they’d seen each other and he’d curled his lip as if disgusted to be in her presence. That had hurt. Badly. But not as badly as when he’d demanded to know what she’d done to his sister. As if Sofi would purposely hurt Kamilah like that. Even though she kind of had.

The door to her office swung open. She didn’t need to look away from her screen to know who it was. There was only one person who entered her office without knocking.

“Why didn’t you come see me as soon as you got back? I wanted an update on the Brimburg account right after your meeting.”

Sofi randomly clicked on her mouse to make it seem like she had been hard at work. Then she lifted her gaze to her father as he strolled into the room.

Felix Rosario hardly looked his sixty-four years of age. With his smooth dark brown skin and close-cut but full, pitch-black 4C hair, there were hardly any clues that indicated his true age. Add in the fact that he made it a point to take care of himself physically and he was frequently mistaken for someone two decades younger. Her father was a well-dressed and well-built man who still turned plenty of heads and he knew it. That was possibly one of the worst things about him. Third to his frequent delusions (number two) and his selfishness (number one).

He plopped down into the seat in front of her desk. “Dígame, mi reina. What happened? Are they signing with us?”

She tried her best not to cringe at his pet name for her. She hated when he called her that. She knew he wasn’t purposefully being mocking, but it felt like it to her.

No one outside of her close family knew this, but Sofi had a speech impediment when she was little. It was so bad that even her mom struggled to understand her. When she started day care, the other kids made fun of her. Her mom immediately asked for help. Shortly after, Sofi began speech therapy, but she was still embarrassed by the way she spoke. Abuela Fina thought that beauty pageants would be a great way for Sofi to gain confidence and Mami agreed, so she entered her first one at age five. Sofi hated everything about it, but she was good. When she won her first pageant and told her dad about it. He was so proud of her and had started calling her “mi reina,” because she was his little beauty queen. Sofi continued competing to make her parents proud, but her fear of making a mistake when speaking only grew. To this day, her past as a beauty queen only reminded her of her failures and never her accomplishments. Of course, her dad didn’t know that, but he would’ve if he just took the time to get to know her at all.

Sofi shook herself mentally before she could go down that unproductive rabbit hole. No good would come of her enumerating all of the ways her father failed her. Instead she focused on the only thing they had in common: work. “They want more time before they make a decision.”

That obviously wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He gave her a sharp look. Then he seemed to notice what she was wearing for the first time. He took in her hot pink blazer and white blouse before his eyes traveled down to her matching ankle trousers and nude heels through the glass top of her mostly empty desk. Then he looked back up at her natural 4A hair that she had left down and extra voluminous. “Is that a new suit?” he asked. She knew exactly what he wasn’t saying. If she’d looked more conservative and professional, the clients would’ve signed with them.

“It is. I just figured that it’s such a beautiful sunny day outside, why not celebrate the brightness.”

He nodded as if in agreement, but she knew he wasn’t. “You’ve been wearing a lot of new clothes lately.”

Translation: What’s with the new look?

“Yeah.”

“You must’ve done a lot of shopping while you were overseas.”

“I did.”

“Esos europeos y su ‘high fashion’ tienen al medio mundo pareciendo payasos de circo.” He shook his head.

“Are you telling me that I look like a circus clown?” she asked.

His eyes rounded and he put a hand on his chest. “Claro que no, mi reina. I just mean that a simple well-fitted suit in a neutral color is a classic for a reason. It looks good to everyone. The same thing with straight hair.”

“Right,” Sofi said. “Well, next time I’ll look like aMen in Blackagent with a sleek bun and hopefully that will distract them from the fact that we’re trying to charge them fifteen percent more than our competitors.”

He looked hurt. “There’s no need for the attitude and we charge them more because we get better results.”

Shegot better results, becauseshebusted her ass to make it so and was on her team to do the same. She didn’t tell him that though, because all that would do was start him in on how he was the reason she knew how to do a good job. As if it was solely his “mentorship” that had taught her how to do her job and not her own ambition. There was nothing her dad loved more than pretending like he had more to do with her life than he actually had. He’d frequently bring up the few visits they’d had when she was a kid, but make it seem like they were constant. Sofi didn’t know if he really believed they spent more time together than they had or was just a very good actor. It hardly mattered, because as far as he was concerned the fact that he’d moved to Chicago and offered her a job at the company made up for everything he’d failed to do when she was a kid.

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