Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Ibiza seems to swell with tourists as the days stretch out and grow hotter. My shift at Aura that night is somehow busier than any that came before it. The club reaches max capacity two hours after opening, and rumor is the line out front is causing a traffic jam. I skip my first break, though Thalia tries to insist I should take it. She’s behind the bar, slinging drinks so fast it looks like she’s moving at twice her normal speed.
“I’m not leaving you!” I insist. “We’re in this together.”
After my shift ends, Antonio is waiting for me and my friends outside with a to-go bag from Cala Luna—Cristiano took me to eat at the restaurant a few days ago and I loved it. Antonio straightens when he sees us, smiling at me only for a moment before his attention slips to Annika, and his eyes widen. Quickly, he grabs the to-go food and pockets his phone, stepping up so he can offer to carry Annika’s bag.
Annika seems surprised. After all, he hasn’t made any move to get Simone’s or my bag.
“Oh, it’s fine. I’ve got it, thanks.”
Simone and I exchange a secret smile, then surreptitiously hang back so Antonio and Annika naturally fall in step together ahead of us.
I try to reach Cristiano when I get home, but he doesn’t answer, and he doesn’t call me back until the next morning, when my buzzing phone draws me out of a deep sleep. I tiptoe out into the living room so I can answer without waking up Simone.
“I’m sorry, nena,” Cristiano says, sounding tired. “I was at Sabor a Sol until two AM.”
“It’s okay,” I quickly reassure him.
“There’s an issue with a gas line. It’s a fucking disaster. We’re supposed to have a pre-party there tonight for investors before our grand opening on Saturday. I’m already driving there now to meet with my contractor. Still, I should have called you last night. Antonio told me you got home safely. Did you get dinner?”
“Yes, thank you. It was too much so I shared it with Simone and Annika. I’m sorry you’re having trouble at the restaurant—”
He curses. “Isabel? I have to take this call.”
He rushes off to hang up, and I try not to let it bother me. There’s nothing that can be done. If Cristiano is busy, he’s busy. I should stay busy, too. Now that I’m awake, I don’t bother trying to lounge in bed. I talk to my parents and try to call Lita as well, but she doesn’t answer, so I go for a run. I get coffee and breakfast in the cafetería, and when Thalia asks if I want to surf, I excitedly agree. Friday winds into Saturday, and though Cristiano has texted me updates and sent a car for me and Simone, I’m still antsy on the way to Sabor a Sol’s grand opening.
“Your leg is going wild,” she points out. “What’s wrong?”
I hadn’t noticed how much I was bouncing my foot. I take a deep breath and smooth my hands down my minidress. The pink silk wraps softly around my neck, leaving a dramatic open back. Winnie loved this dress and the bright heels that tie around my ankles.
“You don’t need to worry, you look fab. Also, since when are you so posh?”
She’s referring to my jewelry. For the first time since I arrived on Ibiza, I had a good excuse to pull out a few of my De Vere staples, layering our iconic heart bracelet with a thin gold cuff. I twist Winnie’s ring around my finger and shrug.
The truth is on the tip of my tongue. Now would be as good a time as any to tell Simone who I really am. I doubt she’ll care, but our driver pulls up outside the restaurant and the moment is hijacked by the chaos awaiting us.
Simone gapes out her window. “Sheesh, Cristiano does nothing by half measures. Look at this.”
Our driver opens her door and we slip out, two girls among hundreds. The sidewalk outside the restaurant is packed with people and photographers clustered together in front of a branded step-and-repeat. I rise onto my tiptoes, trying to spot Cristiano or Juan Carlos, but then Simone nearly gets bowled over by a pushy woman trying to edge her way closer to the entrance.
“No need to step on my foot!” Simone calls after her. “I’m sure there’ll be enough food for all of us!”
I smile and take her hand so we don’t get separated in the crowd.
“Maybe let’s try this way?” I suggest, carefully edging closer to the step-and-repeat.
“Did Cristiano tell you where to go?” Simone asks.
The knot in my stomach tightens as I shake my head. I didn’t think to ask, either. I should have realized it was going to be crazy.
“Right. Then let’s just join the masses and see where we end up.”