Page 44 of One Year Ago in Spain
Claire gasped.
“Please hurry!” she said to the cashier.
The girl shot Claire a nasty look.
“I cannot help you unless you give me what you are buying.”
“What? Oh!” Claire was still clutching the underwear in her hands. “Here.”
The cashier muttered something.
“I’m sorry,” Claire said. “Un hombre…outside. I want to talk to him.”
“Ohh,” the girl said, a pierced eyebrow lifting appreciatively now. But she frowned at the tame underwear Claire had bought—maybe thinking that a few sexier ones would’ve increased Claire’s chances with a man. Regardless, she rang up Claire’s credit card, wrapped the purchases in pretty tissue, and slid them into a nice handle bag. “Good luck!”
“Gracias,” Claire said, practically running out the front door.
“Matías!”
He spun around, and when the sunlight hit him, she could have sworn he was slightly less diaphanous than he was yesterday. But maybe she was just imagining things, because he was definitely still transparent until he stepped forward, out of the sunbeam.
“Claire! Wow, what are the chances?”
She didn’t know. She had no idea why he had shown up here, right now, when her more thought-out plan at the drink kiosk hadn’t worked. But she wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass.
“Go out with me!” Claire blurted.
Matías seemed confused for a second, but quickly recovered. “I’d love to. I probably need a week to settle in once I get to New York, but then it would be wonderful to see you.”
“No.”
“No?”
“I mean, go out with me tonight,” Claire said.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I can’t. I’m busy for the next two weeks, preparing to leave.”
Déjà vu, but the mirror image of it, because the first timeMatías asked Claire out—when he’d called her at the firm about having dinner with him the same day—she’d told him she was too busy.
Yet he’d persisted, and she’d given in.
“I refuse to accept no for an answer,” Claire said, crossing her arms and trying her best not to look like she was bluffing.
But she didn’t actually know what ultimatum she’d use if he declined again.
He cocked his head and studied her. “Are all American women this stubborn?”
She balked. “I amnotstubborn!”
Matías laughed. “I believe that proves my point.”
Claire made a face at him.
“However,” he said, “I happen to be an expert in stubborn women, because my mother and sister are both incredibly strong-willed.”
“Oh? And what does an expert say, then, about this situation?”
“An expert says if you’re smart, you do what the stubborn woman asks.” Matías winked. “Let’s go out, then. I know exactly where to take you.”
