Page 57 of Ignacio

Ignacio removed a black elastic hair tie from his wrist and pulled his hair into a bun. Then he settled onto one of the stools in front of the large island.

His assistant was coming over later so they could review a couple of scripts his agent had sent. One of them was from a Mexican company. He’d done several films in his native Mexico and had a short-running series as well, but most of his success had been in the States, so he hadn’t made a Spanish film in a long time and was especially interested in that one.

Maria placed the green smoothie in front of him. “I’m going out in a few minutes. Delta’s smoothie is in the fridge.”

“Thanks, Maria.”

While he drank his smoothie, he checked his texts. He had received another message from Thiago.

When am I going to get my money?

Thiago had first texted him after Thanksgiving dinner:You owe me 10k.

Ignacio had told him to go to hell, but his brother was persistent, which was no surprise. Thiago didn’t play about money. Ignacio would pay him eventually, but for now, he enjoyed making him suffer.

He typed a short response:Never.

Laughing softly to himself, he imagined his brother’s pissed off face when he read the text. He then perused the stories abouthim and Delta. He used to not care what the magazines and blogs said about him, letting Crystal and his publicist keep track of the latest gossip and news. Nowadays, he was curious because their commentary typically included Delta. As far as he could tell, the stories remained mostly positive. He paused to read an article titledRun It Back: 10 Couples Who Found Their Way Back Together.

He and Delta were listed as number six, and the image they had chosen was one they’d posted on their Instagram accounts, both casually dressed in jeans and strolling arm in arm in downtown Atlanta. That night, they had dinner and then went for a walk with their bodyguards following closely behind.

Delta was laughing at something he had said, and he watched her with what could only be described as love in his eyes. Because he was in love with her, though he hadn’t come right out and said the words. He doubted he ever stopped loving her, even when he was angry and hurt after she didn’t meet him to run away and get married.

If he had to guess, he would say she loved him too, but how could he really know since she hadn’t said the words either?

Nonetheless, they lived their lives like any other couple since the night they had made love. Their relationship was no longer fake. Their relationship was very much real. They ate breakfast and dinner together, made love most nights, confided in each other, spent time working out, going to dinner, watching movies in their sweatpants in the theater room, and supporting each other at various promotional events around the country.

Ignacio opened Instagram to see what her social media manager had recently posted. The last photo was of the two of them in Miami for an awards event honoring emerging Latin musicians and actors, where he had been a presenter.

Delta had joined him and posted a photo of the two of them backstage at the table, with her leaning against him andhis arm around her shoulders. He wore an all-black ensemble, while she wore a Grecian-inspired dress, her hair piled on top of her head and enhanced with gold twine threaded throughout the dark tresses. Kohl-rimmed eyes gave her an air of mystery, making her gaze more mesmerizing beneath the dim lighting. She looked stunning. Regal. Later, they changed clothes and went dancing at a popular nightclub, and Delta was the perfect partner for one of his favorite activities. They slept late the next day and flew back to Atlanta after brunch.

He laughed softly to himself at the comments under the photo.

You have my man.

Happy for you I guess.

Y’all cute or whatever.

Come outside Delta. I just wanna talk.

Tell him I said hey… and to call me when y’all break up.

Just out here living my fantasy with my man. Rude.

“Hey.” Delta waltzed into the kitchen.

He lifted his gaze from the phone. “Hey. Your smoothie’s in the fridge.”

“Thanks.”

His eyes followed her to the refrigerator. The black leggings molded over her ass and hugged her toned thighs. His body stirred with the beginnings of arousal.

Delta blew out a tired breath. “I hate Mona so much,” she said, sticking a straw in the container.

“She’s good for you.”

“She pushes me too hard.”

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