The Spanish Love Deception

Chapter 169

But that was so selfish and so very naive of me. Stupidly so. Sometimes, as much as we wanted

something, we weren’t meant to have it. To keep it. Not when it complicated everything else. And this

thing—love because that was exactly what it was—between us did. It complicated both our lives, the

promises of both careers.

We were tripping each other, making each other fall, just how Daniel had said all that time ago.

We’d have grown to resent each other. Because that was what the poison born of malicious mouths

did. It infected everything. And I knew just how much.

So, yeah, after Moulin Rouge–crying-gate, the following day obviously sucked. It was probably one of

the worst, most miserable days I remembered, and I knew a fair bit about those. I dragged my feet the

whole day, somehow managing to get through the eight to midnight Open Day for a bunch of faceless

suits. Names and faces bounced right off me, and I presented topic after topic as if every word were

being ripped out of me. If Jeff had been around to witness that lame attempt at being welcoming,

accommodating, and approachable, he’d have fired me on the spot.

And I wouldn’t have found it in me to care.

That was how ironic life could be sometimes. Content © provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

When I entered the building on day two without Aaron—which I realized was my new way to count

down time—I waited for the whispers of my colleagues to reach my ears and their fingers to be pointed

at me for no reason other than Gerald’s public accusations. By the time the clock hit five p.m.—after I

spent the day wishing I’d get a glimpse of Aaron and dreading it, all at the same time—nothing had

happened. None of my colleagues had batted an eyelash at me. No disgusting rumors, no nasty

accusations, nothing. Not a flash of Aaron either.

On day three without him, an odd kind of restlessness burrowed itself in me. I missed Aaron. I missed

the possibility of what had been growing between us, and that started overweighing everything else. It

didn’t seem so important that the incident with Gerald had not led anyone to treat me any differently. I

couldn’t find it in me to be relieved. What did it matter when there was a hole in my chest?

I missed Aaron’s face, the ocean blue in his eyes, his stubborn frown, the way his lips puckered when

he was lost in thought, the wide line of his shoulders, how he effortlessly stood tall and big as life

wherever he went, and his smile—that smile that was just for me. So much that I set camp in my office,

left the door open, and waited for him to walk down the hallway at some point in the day. Or to hear his

voice even if in the distance. That would have been enough to appease that need burning inside of me.

But none of that happened.

On day four, I finally gave up and knocked on his office door, going unanswered. And when I asked

Rosie if she had seen him around at all, she hugged me and said she hadn’t. Neither had Héctor or the

few other people I had somehow found an excuse to ask.

That was exactly why I was pacing from one corner of the hallway to the opposite one as I waited to be

called into Sharon’s office. Just like I had been doing at home last night. Or that morning in my office.

Because he had disappeared. And I hated not knowing why, not seeing him, not having him around,

not … having an excuse to call and ask him because I had pushed him away and the last thing he

probably wanted to do was talk to me.

“Lina, darling,” Sharon called as her head peeked out of her office, jerking me back into the present.

“Please come in and take a seat.”

Following her inside, I let myself fall into one of the chairs. I watched the blonde lady sit down and lean

over her desk with a secretive smile.

“Sorry about the wait. You know how some people think HR has the answers for everything.” She

chuckled with bitterness. “Even for things like New York City Council deciding to repave the part of the

road right outside their window.”

Any other day, I would have laughed too. Perhaps make a joke about how only the fittest could survive

the city that never slept and always closed some road to keep you awake at all times. But I simply

couldn’t muster the energy for that.

“I’m sure it makes up for a few awkward conversations.”

Sharon’s eyes scanned my face, something like understanding dawning in her features. What exactly

she found or understood, I had no idea.

“All right, let’s cut to the chase.”

Good. I liked that. Just like I had always liked Sharon too.

“I’ve called you here in light of some serious allegations that have been made, which directly involve

you.”

Something dropped to the bottom of my stomach, and I felt myself blanch.

“Oh … okay.” I cleared my throat. “What do you want to know?”

The woman inhaled deeply through her nose, as if she was readying herself for something.

“Lina,” she said, using a tone that I had heard from my own mother—comforting but also admonishing

—“we both are aware that Gerald knows the right kind of people, and frankly, I will never understand

how someone so horrible manages to make so many good ‘acquaintances.’ ” Her fingers air-quoted

that last word. “But as much as he has remained untouchable so far, that doesn’t mean that he can’t be

knocked down. For that, however, we must do something. We should at least try.”

I felt myself nod, still trying to process what Sharon was telling me. She was admitting to being on my

side. Not only that, but also she wouldn’t remain a silent bystander.

“If that’s something you want to do, we can work together on an employee formal complaint. I can help

you. You’d need to sign it and submit it to us, and after that, I’d try to push for a thorough investigation.

I know many complaints are ignored, but more than a few people having your back will make a

difference.”

More than a few people?

“What …” I trailed off, shaking my head. “What people? I don’t understand.”

She flicked her nails on the table, tilting her head. “After the altercation in the coworking floor, a number

of people came by my desk to inform me of what had happened. Half of them wanted to file the

complaint themselves, but just like I told them, it has to be you.”

“I … I just …” My gaze fell on my hands, resting on my lap. I felt my heart expanding with gratitude.

With something else too. Realization. “So, they are on my side? They have spoken on my behalf and

not Gerald’s?”

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