Page 67 of My Spanish Love Affair

The interior is immaculate. It’s the kind of luxury you’d expect for someone who plays professional sports at Santi’s level, but I can’t help feeling out of place all the same.

As we drive through the city, I fidget with the strap of my bag, my nerves increasing with every mile. Music plays in the background, but all I can hear is the pounding of my heartbeat in my ears as we travel further away from my apartment.

It feels like hardly any time passes before we arrive at the stadium. When I came here with Santi a few weeks ago, it was a completely different experience. It was quiet - no fans or press around - and we went through a back entrance, skipping the main side of it.

But today, the towering stands, massive floodlights and throngs of fans streaming toward the different entrances create a palpably busy atmosphere, and I swallow thickly as the driver comes to open my door.

“Gracias,” I tell him, and he nods as he closes the door behind me.

“Enjoy,” he responds.

I haven’t been able to actually speak with Santi since he’s been busy with his team for most of the day, so I re-read his last message for what must be the tenth time.

Go straight to the main entrance and give your name at the desk. They’ll take care of you.

“Easy for you to say,” I mutter under my breath, clutching myphone like a lifeline as I make my way towards the towering stadium.

∞∞∞

Although the outside of the stadium is packed out with fans, inside the main reception is actually rather quiet. It probably helps that they have security on the door, checking names on their lists and ticking them off before anyone can actually come in through this entrance.

At the reception desk, a woman in a team polo shirt barely looks up as I approach. “Can I help you?” she asks, her tone clipped and impersonal.

“Yes. Ah - my name is Olivia Bennett,” I say, my voice wavering slightly. “I was told to come here? I’m here as a guest.”

Her eyes flick up to meet mine, scanning me quickly before she glances back down at her clipboard. “And who invited you?”

“Santiago Ortiz,” I reply, the name feeling heavy on my tongue.

Thatgets her attention.

Her brows lift slightly, and she exchanges a look with the man standing beside her. They murmur something in Spanish that I can’t quite make out before she flips through her papers.

“One moment,” she says, and I watch as she scans through the documents. Finally, her eyes widen and her tone shifts ever so slightly. “You’re on the list.”

Had my heart not been in my throat, then I would have probably laughed at just how audible her surprise is. Instead, I wait patiently as she picks up a lanyard with a badge attachedto it and hands it to me.

“Wear this,” she says, clearly not one for pleasantries. “Someone will take you to the box.”

I nod, slipping the lanyard over my head. Though I try not to let her clip tone and questioning looks bother me, the interaction leaves me feeling impossibly more self-conscious. It’s clear that I’m nothing like the people on her list - not someone that they’re used to seeing in this world.

I hardly have to wait at all before a young man in a stadium uniform approaches, motioning for me to follow him. He doesn’t say much, just leads me through a maze of hallways and up an escalator.

When we finally reach the box, he opens the door and steps aside, letting me enter.

The space is spacious and luxurious, with plush seating and a clear view of the field. A few people are already there, chatting and laughing as they sip drinks and snack on small plates of food.

I hover near the entrance, unsure of where to go or who to talk to.

It’s then that one of the women glances my way. She’s tall and elegant with dark hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, and she does a double-take in my direction before she breaks out into a wide smile.

“You must be Olivia,” she says, stepping forward towards me.

“Yes, that’s me,” I reply.

“So nice to meet you!” she exclaims as she leans forwards and places kisses against both of my cheeks. “I’m Elena, Santi’s cousin,” she explains, her smile widening. “He told us you’d be coming today. We’re so excited to meet you! Welcome!”

Her friendliness puts me at ease, and soon I’m introduced to a few others - her husband, a couple of his teammates’ partners, and two of his friends. They all greet me in warm, welcoming ways that have my nerves easing up just a fraction.

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