Page 155 of Tell Me What You Want

“Come here. I’m fine, silly girl ... just fine.”

He has me sit on his lap and begins to kiss me all over my neck.

Minutes later, naked on my couch, Eric shows me how much he’s been wanting and missing me, making love to me twice, with his usual possession.

58

Once I go back to the office, I find that my life returns to relative normalcy.

The difference now is that Eric is by my side, and I love his company and the way he spoils me. He keeps the suite at the hotel, though he spends many nights at my apartment. But we both still need a place of our own, in spite of how much we love each other’s company. Each day, he wants to tell everybody I’m his girlfriend, but I continue to refuse. I don’t know why, but I don’t want anyone to know. We talk a lot about Germany, though. I can see in his eyes that he needs an answer, but I still don’t know what to do. He doesn’t pressure me, which I appreciate.

Eric’s been back several days now. Every morning, I ask him how he’s doing, and his answer is always the same: “Good.” He hasn’t had any more headaches, and I haven’t noticed him experiencing nausea, and that helps me relax.

One morning when I’m in the cafeteria having breakfast with Miguel, I see Eric come in. His look tells me he doesn’t approve of my hanging out with my pal.

He sits in the back of the cafeteria and orders coffee. I’m talking with Miguel when I hear my cell buzz. It’s Eric.

“May I ask what you’re doing?” he asks, annoyed.

I don’t look his way because I don’t want to laugh.

“I’m having breakfast.”

“Why do you have to have breakfast with that guy every day?”

Sitting in front of me, Miguel asks whom I’m talking to.

“It’s my father,” I tell him, then turn back to the phone. “C’mon, Papá, I’m having breakfast. What do you want?”

My lover sighs, but I’m having some fun.

“Look, Papá, don’t worry. I promise you I’m having a good breakfast, OK?”

“Jude ...,” Eric says through clenched teeth.

Just then, Raúl and Paco approach. As they do every morning, they give me kisses on the cheek and sit down with us. Eric’s response is immediate.

“Who gave them permission to kiss you?”

I don’t know what to say. I laugh. Paco and Raúl are a longtime couple, and just as I’m about to say the first thing that comes to mind, Miguel, with whom I have a lot of cozy familiarity, pulls a strand of hair from my face and tucks it behind my ear.

“Goddamn it,” growls Eric, “why is that guy touching you now?”

“Papá, what do you say I call you from home?” So as not to give him a chance to respond, I quickly add, “Kiss-kiss, Papá. I love you.”

I switch off my cell and leave it on the table. I turn to look at Eric and find him standing, his cell at his ear. He’s very angry. He passes by us in a huff while Miguel, unaware of what’s just happened, continues with his breakfast in his relaxed, casual manner. In contrast, I feel like my stomach just dropped.

Ten minutes later, I head back. As soon as I sit at my desk, my phone rings. It’s Eric. He orders me to his office.

I close the door behind me, and he drills his icy gaze into me. I know he wants to curse and growl, but he’s controlling himself. It’s neither the time nor the place to get into it with me.

“Papá?”

I shrug. I’m about to answer, but he starts in on me.

“I’m very angry.”

Aware of where we are, I try to keep it light. “Well, you know ... a general cleaning would do you wonders.”

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