Page 52 of Lawsuit and Leather

“Big time, babe.” Her eyes got larger, which I didn't know was possible. Her accent peeked when she pronouncedbig,similar in the way Alejandro would have. Her curves and assertiveness reminded me of Camilla, though Ivanna was actually friendly.

“I think you’ve got it wrong,” I dispelled, setting my mug down on the counter. “I’m sure he’s this way with everyone. It’s an act, it has to be, right?”

“An act?” She almost snorted, tilting her head back.

“Yes! The way he looks, those eyes and stare. It’s down to a science, right? Tell me, how many women has he had in this very trailer alone?”

“Women?” she asked. “One, and you’re looking at her.” She walked over to the couch, crossing her long legs as she took a seat.

“What about all the articles and photographs of women over the years? It’s all overNew York Prestige…”

Ivanna’s reaction was collected, yet sarcastic. “Those tabloids, they will tell you anything for a good story. If Alejandro needs to be photographed with a woman for publicity, it’ll be done to appease the appearance they want to portray, but it doesn’t mean he’s with them. Besides, Alejandro doesn’t have anyone, and he certainly can’t tolerate people.”

“What star can’t tolerate people?” I laughed.

“The biggest one of all. Why do you think he’s late all the time? The man is practically begging for Hollywood to get rid of him, but they love him. Regardless, he doesn't walk away.” Her calm but sobering words reminded me of the conversation I had with Alejandro at his fitting. Other than his name, what else did he sacrifice to get where he was, and was it worth it? Still, if he wanted to leave, why wouldn’t he just do it? It seemed odd for his personality, especially with how assertive he was.

“Why do it then?” I asked, unable to think of a good answer.

Ivanna shrugged. “A distraction maybe? Just like this new personal project of his.” She nodded at my sketchbook, “Are those your designs?”

“A work in progress.” I answered, but was distracted by what she said, “What personal project does he have?” I recalled, familiar with the vague mention he made while I measured his body.

“Tequila. The man has been working tirelessly on it. He certainly isn’t shy about his preference for physical labor, or its rewards. If that wasn’t apparent by his ripped shoulders, then it is by his tan.” Of course, immediately I thought of his hands, both rough and large, yet delicate to my skin. How could they be both, harvesters of agave and evokers of tingling nerves? The way he had pinned my arms that night, he could have just as easily lifted me up and raised me to his lips. I took a sip of coffee again, just to feel something other than the frustrating thrill of that memory.

“Seems like a big distraction.” I imagined.

“Maybe a temporary one, that is, until he finds something more permanent.” Ivanna tipped her nose in my direction, as if I were the solution to his problems. I couldn’t help but twist my lips.

“That’s a silly thought.” I protested, embarrassed she’d even suggest the idea.

“Not from my point of view. I know the man. He neither cares for or seeks out other people.”

“I don't believe that.”

“It doesn't matter what you believe. I know the truth, and I get the sense that he’s determined to show you that too.”

“Well, he has a funny way of showing it sometimes.”

“He’s complicated,” she admitted with a sigh. “But growth isn’t always a pretty process.”

“That makes me sound more like an opportunity than a person.” I stated.

“That’s a shame. You make it sound as if growth is exclusive to him, rather than inclusive to you.” She sipped her coffee, “Maybe he has his hands full with you, rather than the reverse.” She added, pointing out my apparent walls.

“So, no women in his life?” I asked, still in disbelief. Alejandro could have any woman he wanted, yet I was the object of his incisive focus. There had to be some cruel joke in there. I wasn’t worth the time or the effort and agreed with Ivanna to an extent. Maybe I was the difficult one. Regardless, Ivanna’s conviction felt unshakable, leaving me to regret even asking the question.

“Besides me,” she pointed to her freckled cheek, “no one.” She was quick to add, clearing any misunderstanding, “But Alejandro and I are more similar. Not romantic if that’s what you're thinking.”

“I wasn’t sure…” I mumbled, not willing to admit the idea crossed my mind. I wouldn’t be jealous, that’d imply some entitlement I couldn’t face.

“Our tastes are more similar.” She inhaled.

“How?” I asked sheepishly.

“We both enjoy the company of agoodgirl.” She lingered her eyes into mine, “But I’m not willing to spend eighty thousand dollars on a painting like he did.”

The price that slipped out of her mouth made me choke on my coffee, causing it to fall from my lips and onto my turtleneck. I coughed, but Ivanna laughed, handing me a wad of napkins. I gawked at what she said, the outrageous amount Alejandro spent. All that for me, all that for an apology, on top of the salary? It was too much to fathom, an amount of money I never knew I’d possess. Knowing that the painting was just lying in my closet, made me sick; it belonged in a museum, or possibly a safe.

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