Page 85 of Tell Me What You Want

“What?”

“You’re looking really good.”

“Thanks,” I say as I dry my face with the towel. “You too.”

I give him two quick kisses. His hands go to my waist.

“You’d better let me go,” I say, “or my father will tell your father, and they’ll organize a wedding in a matter of days.”

“If that’s the only way I get to see you more often, I accept!”

I laugh and he lets me go. We sit down.

“How’s everything going?”

“Well. And you?”

Fernando nods. He doesn’t want to go over what happened. At that exact moment, my father comes back with two beers, and a Coke for me.

For a good while, the three of us hang out by the pool. At eight, Fernando invites me to dinner. I’m going to say no, that I’m not in the mood, but my father quickly accepts for me.

Fernando takes me to a new restaurant, and we enjoy a very nice dinner. Fernando is engaging, and he can talk about anything. Afterward, we go to a little place for drinks.

“Judith,” he says when I least expect it, “if I invited you to go with me to Algarve for a few days, would you go?”

I almost choke.

“Where did that come from?”

Fernando leans on the table and pushes back a lock of hair that has fallen in my eyes.

“You know.”

I just stare at him, taken aback. The same thing, again? But before I can say anything, he throws himself at me and gives me a kiss.

“Listen, your boss is not good for you,” he says out of nowhere.

Is Fernando talking to me about Eric?

“Eric Zimmerman is not the man you think he is,” he says.

“What are you talking about?”

Fernando traces the shape of my face with his finger.

“Let’s say he moves in circles that aren’t good for you.”

My blood thins when I realize Fernando has been snooping around in my life.

“And what do you know about my boss and his circles?”

“Judith, I’m a cop, and it’s easy for me to find out certain things. Eric Zimmerman is a rich German magnate who likes women. He moves in very select circles and likes to engage in much more than just friendship.”

Knowing Fernando is aware of certain things about Eric disturbs me.

“Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I don’t care,” I say.

“Judith, I don’t care about your boss, but I do care about you,” he says, trying to explain. “And I don’t want you to make the wrong decision. I know who you are, I care about you, and I don’t want anybody to screw up what we have.”

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