Page 41 of Broken Deal

It’s being handled. I’ll be there first thing tomorrow morning.

I don’t even bother to reply, because I’m seething right now, trying to keep my cool. I’m going to have to cancel the training that’s supposed to be happening tomorrow.

Fisting my hair in frustration, I look up and close my eyes, taking a deep breath.

“You okay?” Sophia asks softly.

I relax my shoulders a bit. “Yeah.” I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. I just have to roll with the punches.”

I’m meeting with Diego one way or another, because he owes me someseriousexplanations.

“I know I said we would go back to Chicago tonight, but I have to stay and talk to the builder, Diego. If you need to go back, I will get the jet ready for you, just say the word.”

“Diego García? As in the owner of NextGen Builders?” she asks.

I squint. “Yes. How do you know him?”

“Who doesn’t? He has the biggest construction business that’s practically taking over the world. Everyone knows him.” She shrugs. “And I can stay a few more days, I think it will be interesting to see you work behind the scenes.”

Relief floods through me. I don’t know why, but I was hoping she’d say that. Having her around will be nice. She’s fun to talk to and keeps me on my toes most of the time,never afraid of giving me an ego check, and I always look forward to it. The company is a welcome change, since I’m always traveling by myself. It gets lonely, always being out and about and having no one to share your time with. It’s why I typically fill the void with other extracurriculars that have become less and less interesting to me lately.

“This is not what I had planned,” I say with a low chuckle. “I wanted to show you the restaurant.”

She waves her hand dismissively. “You still can. Walk me through it and tell me what the ideas are. I have a pretty good imagination.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth, and I tilt my head toward the restaurant. It’s lunchtime right now, so the construction crew is not around as I walk her through.

Entering the area that’s meant to be the kitchen, I wave my hand around. “It’s going to be an open concept. Customers will be able to see what the kitchen staff is doing, from beginning to end.” I point to a corner of the space. “We’ll close off this area to create a private washing zone”—then to another corner at the far back—“that section will be enclosed for a ventilated dry store. With the weather here in Panamá, we have to ensure the ingredients are stored properly. The freezer will go right next to it,” I add.

She looks around, nodding as she takes a small notebook from her purse and starts writing. She looks so beautiful with her eyebrows furrowed in concentration, her hand moving quickly, as if she needs to write all the words down before they escape her. Her hair falls onto her shoulders and down to her hips in soft waves. Sophia has this type of beauty that knocks the wind out of you without even trying. Her beauty is gracefulandoverwhelming. It’s impossible to look away, even if I tried.

Before she finishes writing her thoughts, I let out a fakecough and look at anything but her. I don’t want her to think I was gawking at her—even though I quite literally was. I continue the tour and give her as much detail as possible. This is one of the projects I’m most excited about, because I’m finally expanding and dipping more into different types of menus. It’s nerve-wracking to start a new project, but the exhilaration I get every time I open a new place makes up for it. The restaurant business is not easy, especially when you have hundreds of them to manage, but the food industry is where I’m most at peace. It’s where I find my tranquility. The only thing I would change is I would love to be a part of the day-to-day and the creative side of things. Ditch the suit and wear the apron, opinions be damned.

I’ve never known what love is like, but if the passion and care I have for this job is anything like it, it’s not the worst feeling in the world.

My opinion about Lorenzo started to shift slightly after the restaurant walk-through. He’s still the reckless playboy who likes to gamble and sleep around, but his demeanor changes completely when it comes to his restaurants. My question is…why? What makes one of the top billionaires of the windy city be one way in front of the public and do a complete 180 behind the scenes? Okay—that may be a bit of a stretch. He’s still his playful, flirty self. That’s one thing I’m sure will never change. But you can tell he’s really passionate about this business.

We all have our reasons for hiding our true selves sometimes. Whether it’s because we’re afraid of rejection or embarrassment. I hide behind my work, my smile, and my loud personality, because I feel so empty inside, it’s better to put on a mask no one can question. I’m Sophia Evans, the girl who loves to quote movies and TV shows, the girl who always jokes around and never takes anything seriously, and most importantly, the girl who sleeps around and plays men. But all of it is a coping mechanism I useto protect myself and avoid being burned. The brighter your smile, the less people worry about you. Even if your glow is fake, people are often too occupied to care. I’ve had a lifetime of practice, too. At home, I was always the brave one. The one who defended her mother when her father was too drunk. The one who always took the blame when her sister did something wrong, so she wouldn’t be punished.

There’s no reason to hidethis, though. He’s passionate about the food industry, so what? That’s good. He has a purpose. Or at least that’s how I look at it. It’s difficult to comprehend why he doesn’t share this part of his life. But this also means this is the perfect opportunity for me to bring light to it. Discover why he chooses to hide this part of himself.

“I don’t really have much to show you for today. You can rest, get settled, or whatever. I have to attend non-negotiable Zoom meetings.” He rolls his eyes. “But we can meet later?”

I nod. “That works. It would be good to get ahead on this article thing.”

He frowns. “Already? You haven’t even asked me anything.”

“Still in the research phase.”

“Good luck finding anything.” He laughs. “I can assure you whatever you do find, chances are it’s not true.”

We arrive at the villa, and as we’re both standing at the entrance, I shrug. “I know. You forget I’m pretty good at my job,” I joke.

“That you are.” He gives me a soft smile as he reaches for a purple Madagascar periwinkle and plucks it carefully. He holds it for a moment, and without a word, he steps into my space. His hand tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, and then he carefully places the flower there. His fingertips graze my skin for a moment, leaving a trail of goosebumps. “Purple suits you,” he says simply before disappearing into the villa.

Oh, boy. Why did I say yes to this again?

For the rest of the day, I journaled and dove deeper into my research, writing down every thought I had about Lorenzo and the mystery surrounding his life. There are still so many unanswered questions, but I’m sure I’ll figure them out as we keep spending more time together.

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