11.
"I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her. Love is so short, forgetting is so long."
Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair
Pablo Neruda
Z
This was crazy, I was a total idiot, I was probably going to get kidnapped by a serial killer, but I was doing it anyway.
There was no way this could end well. A random person gets my number and tells me to meet them someplace, and I agree. I mean, who was going to be waiting? A person telling me I'd won a private island? The more likely option was a guy in a white van with candy.
At least I was armed this time.
I was never without the gun I had gotten from the Yakuza. After leaving Han and knowing I would have to have the upper hand in a fight with a burglar without his extra muscle, I talked one of the ex-military guys in my dad's crew into teaching me how to shoot. Turns out, I wasn't that bad.
The big fountain splashed happily across the street from City Hall where I now stood. This was actually the best possible meeting place and time they could have come up with since the applications for the permits had taken longer than I thought and it was now almost the meeting time and I was already in the plaza. The fountain itself was surrounded by the road, so there was no way to actually be beside it. The most likely option was on the busy, tree lined side walk across the street.
I glanced around me nervously. There were a few business people, a French speaking family armed with cameras, and guy in a rain jacket and baseball hat reading the paper on a bench. He looked the most likely, but had made no move towards me. Across the street it was. That worked out for me anyway; I had parked down that way.
I quickened my pace across the stopped traffic until I got to the other side. Pausing for a moment, I glanced around.
This was really one of the dumbest things I'd ever done. I was going to get myself kidnapped and stabbed over a bit of curiosity. That didn't change the fact that I really wanted to know.
I snorted and started walking towards my car. If someone found me, good for them, but I was not going to wait around. They had gotten in touch with me once, they could do it again. Next time I would be smarter and bring Desi or Lorenzo with me. Both of them were big athletes, so they looked scary enough to back off most people.
A peal of thunder sounded as the clouds flickered with lightning. The trees bent over at the force of the wind. I slowed down to look up at the darkening clouds and then quickened my pace so I could make it back without getting wet. The rest of the people on the sidewalk were also hurrying to get out of the rain. I gave up on finding whoever texted me.
Apparently that was a little premature.
Out of nowhere, someone passing me wrapped a gentle hand around my wrist. I jumped in shock and tried to pull away. They allowed me to move my hand back, but they still kept the same amount of pressure on their fingers. I turned to see Han. Should have known.
"Disappointed?" He asked with a forced smirk.
"Considering the fact I was expecting a guy in a windowless white van?" I shot back. His smirk dropped off.
"Look, I just wanted to talk. We owe each other that." He murmured.
"I don't owe you anything." I almost yelled back. I felt my face flushed the way it always did when I was angry. A few passing people turned to stare.
"You failed to mention the millions you had stashed in Europe. Hell yeah, you owe me an explanation." He retorted.
"After three years you left for a girl you knew for a week. I don't owe you shit." I spat back.
"I didn't leave, you did. And believe me, finding out the girl in bed beside me for three and a half years had an exit strategy was a slap in the face." He responded
"Oh, so that's what was I was to you. I always wondered!" I sarcastically replied as I yanked my wrist out of his grasp. He sighed angrily and closed his eyes.
By now everyone was staring at the pissed off Puerto Rican girl and the irate Korean man. The oncoming summer thunderstorm forgotten, several tourists had stopped to take pictures. I readjusted my blazer, straightened my spine, and tried to regain my composure.
"Han, it ended, okay? That's it." I said quietly before turning to walk back to my car. I felt myself choking up a little as my white Corvette came into view. I forced every emotion back behind a mask and went on pretending like nothing had happened.
"Elle." Han called right as I put my hand on the driver's side door. "Just give me one chance to explain myself."
"Why should I?" I shot back.
"Just let me explain, and then I'll leave you alone."
Z
Should've told him no. Should've walked faster to my car without hesitating to look around at the crowds. Should've told him I didn't want to see him in a text. This was just not a good day for decision making. There were enough red flags for me to have avoided this. I had never been very good at listening to those red flags.
Han was staring at me with his chin resting in his hand as I self consciously chewed on a tapa. I still wasn't sure why I let him get in the car with me, or how I let him talk me into going to lunch, but I was definitely regretting it.
"What did you want to say?" I finally asked in a business-like tone. He sighed and took a sip of his beer.
"I fucked up." He deadpanned. I remained quiet. "I didn't mean for things to go the way they did."
I had wanted him to tell me he messed up when he talked to me that day on the factory platform. I wanted him to apologize. He didn't do it. He let me walk away without a word.
I knew better than to expect Han to follow me out of the factory; it was not his nature. I knew I would not have taken him back if he did. Just the thought that he tried would have made this hurt a little less.
Now I was finally getting an apology. Right after I saw him in another country with the girl he chose over me. That really hurt.
"You've always done that; I knew that when I agreed to stay." I replied with a straight poker face. It hurt to put that on myself, but it was a better reply than screaming at him that it was all his fault like I wanted to. I had already shown too much emotion in the plaza.
"I didn't want to do it again. We had too much together." He grabbed a tapa off the plate between us so he didn't have to look at me.
"We really didn't have that much." I said thinking of our little house near the beach.
"We had a life in Colombia." he paused. "We also had a crew in Tokyo."
I glanced away towards the window as I felt my temper flare up. The rain was now hitting it hard as the wind blew outside. A few people ran down the street outside with umbrellas or jackets over their head. I entertained myself by watching the cars passing by splash up water. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and turned back to Han.
"You know I never told Sean." I informed him. "He would not be able to handle knowing you cheated on me." He looked like I had slapped him, which was what I was going for in my moment of vindictive fury.
Sean was my older half brother's best friend. He learned every bit he knew about cars from my dad and brother. He was a constant fixture in my house and he eventually became another brother to me. We had a weird little family unit: Brent and I didn't have a mom, and he didn't have a dad. We weren't exactly the Brady Bunch, but it worked. When my brother got deployed, Sean kind of took his place as well as he could since we no longer lived in the same town.
"I told him." Han replied. My eyebrows raised. "He wasn't happy, but he agreed not to mention it to you. What did you tell him, anyway?"
"That we didn't agree on where to go and what to do after we left Colombia, to the point where we just couldn't take each other anymore. Ironic, huh? Bet he was shocked to figure out we were both in Madrid." I asked sarcastically.
"I can't believe he fell for that." Han deadpanned.
"Sean's not the brightest bulb in the box. Besides, sometimes I don't even know how we got along. We are two very different people." I responded. Han took another sip of beer.
"We aren't that different." He replied.
"Bad neighborhood. Below poverty line. Single parent-if you could call her that. Sent to Juvie early in life." I listed. "Versus middle class family, probably well-off. Stable home. Got into crime out of boredom. " I watched a slight look of shock cross Han's face. If I hadn't known him for so long, I probably wouldn't have seen the change. "All of that made a huge difference in how we are now."
"And you came up with this?" He trailed off for me to finish.
"By how you act." I paused. "It certainly wasn't because you told me. In fact I'm not even sure you told me your real last name."
"I did, Miss Delgado." He drew out the syllables of my new last name to be a pain in the ass. "My real last name is Lue. When I get involved in things like with Dom, I go by Seol-Oh."
"Oh, you are such a dork." I responded. I let a little laugh slip out. Han's lips turned up at the corners.
"You're the only one who knows that." Han told me.
"Yeah, don't tell anybody else." I deadpanned, still laughing.
"I meant about me being a dork." He shot back.
"I doubt that, Han."
I broke eye contact with him and started glancing around to the other people in the restaurant. There weren't that many people sitting around us to look at, though one man did catch my eye. My lips pulled into a frown as I tried to remember where I'd seen him. He moved a little too far up in his chair and I saw his rain jacket. It was the guy from the plaza. Guess he was in the mood for tapas too.
"It's not the same." Han said slowly. My head snapped back around to him.
"What?" I asked. He sighed.
"It's not the same as it was with you and me." Gisele. He was talking about Gisele.
"I don't see how there could be anything similar about that relationship." I deadpanned. "I was just convenient."
The bitter last line wasn't supposed to come out, but it did.
She was the girl with the six foot long spider legs that Han had problems resisting, a bad ass attitude I only had when I was dodging other drivers behind the wheel of a car, and an aggressiveness which I found slutty, but apparently others didn't. I was the just short, bony, awkward little girl who was convenient for Han to stay with.
But now I wasn't that girl anymore. The days of wearing no make up and ratty, grease stained clothes were gone. Replacing them were high heels, business clothes, and expensive name brands. I didn't leave the house in the mornings without makeup on my face and my hair tamed into soft curls. The change obviously caught Han's attention.
"It wore off." He said quietly. Don't do it. Don't take the bait.
"What did?" I asked hesitantly.
"The sex appeal." He replied.
"Usually does." I deadpanned. Han sighed at my unwillingness to talk.
We sat in a crushing silence while we ate half the plate. I kept remembering the good times and I ended up feeling so hurt I almost teared up. I was ready to pick up my purse and leave when he broke the silence.
"Don't you want to know what the business on the side I had on the side was?" I felt myself pale slightly as he changed the subject. If it was another girl, then there was no way I could keep up a poker face and not throw my drink on him.
"Okay." I said slowly for him to continue.
"I was getting stolen parts and installing them. I wasn't making that much off of them, and I couldn't do it that often or you'd know when you did the books, but it was just a little extra." He said slowly.
"I was expecting something a little more-lucratively illegal." I commented.
"I was a wanted man and, at the moment, I just wanted peace." His lips twitched up in an amused expression. "I hated to bring the cops down on us. Actually, that's what the money was for; a safety net."
"That's why I kept the casino." I said before I could stop myself. His expression darkened. "I invested the money from one of my dad's old accounts when I thought we were going our separate ways after you got out of the hospital. I just kept it as a place to go if everything imploded again." I rambled.
"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked in frustration.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I shot back. He nodded his head to say I had him. "I wanted to tell you, but I never could force the words out of my mouth. Having everything as ours scared the hell out of me." I said honestly. He gave a humorless laugh.
"You always were independent."
"I've always had to be." I responded. Too much. That was definitely too much.
"I probably need to go. I have to call my business partner and everything." I stuttered as I pulled enough Euros to cover lunch out of my purse and tossed them on the table. I had to get out of there before I started saying things I regretted. I was feeling way too comfortable with this conversation.
"Goodbye, Ellie."
Z
I watched with amusement as Desi readjusted his tie for the fiftieth time in the short drive. He rubbed two off his fingers above his lip where he previously had the shadow of a mustache that he was always too lazy to shave.
"Desi." He didn't respond. "Desi." I said louder as I poked him. He gave me a nervous glance. "It's going to be fine."
"I know, but this is a risky exhibit. If this doesn't pan out, they could let her go." He said in exasperation.
It was a little known fact among non-close friends; Desi Pavia was a mama's boy.
Mrs. Silvia Pavia was the curator at one of the city's large museums. She was one of those people that radiated grace and elegance, and she did everything possible to show that on the exhibits she created. Tonight she was showcasing the little-known, out of style pieces from an artist way out of the lime light. If investors hated it, she was out of a job.
And for all Desi's tough, pretty boy sports enthusiasts exterior, he was freaking out.
"She's going to be fine." I said one more time. He snorted and looked out the window of his dad's Rolls Royce.
The museum grew closer and closer out the window. From what I could tell, from the outside it looked like there was a good turnout. Desi had calmed down a little when he saw the amount of people there.
Before he had time to get any more stressed, the driver was pulling up at the curb. He opened the door for Desi, who slid out and offered me his hand. I took in and together we made our way inside.
The inside was filled with expensively dressed people meandering around the paintings with champagne glasses in their hands. Desi had left ever trace of nervousness in the car and was now politely joking with the people around him. I was struggling to remember the names of all of the people I was introduced to.
"Good evening." Silvia swooped out of no to see us.
"Hi, mom. How's it going?" Desi asked as he grabbed a champagne glass off of a passing tray for the three of us.
"Perfect. Some of our big investors are asking about purchasing some of the paintings when they come off exhibit." She smiled beautifully as she accepted the champagne glass. "You look beautiful, by the way Eliana."
I smiled back and thanked her.
I was wearing a tight, plain black cocktail dress with a strapless, sweetheart neckline. My hair was swept into a slightly messy side bun with my bangs curled around my face. I had spent forever on my eye makeup and the smoky eye with lots of mascara and eye liner had come out looking perfect. I had finished out my look with a very elaborate diamond chocker and chandelier earrings.
For once I didn't feel out of place. Tonight, I felt completely beautiful.
"Oh, there he is." She gestured to a man standing off to one side looking at a painting. "He wanted to talk to me about letting us borrow a piece. Please, enjoy the exhibit." She excused herself and left.
"See; you were worried about nothing." I jabbed him with a smiled. He rolled his eyes at me.
"Let's just go look at these paintings so we can go home." He grumbled. I followed him through the exhibit.
The more I looked at the art, the more I realized I didn't understand it. Desi kept trying to explain to me the worth of this modern artist versus the worth of that modern artist. I just kept nodding at his explanations and taking sips of champagne.
"You're not listening to me, are you?" He finally deadpanned as we moved upstairs to a few of the older paintings.
"I'm trying, but I don't get art." I said in exasperation.
"Yeah you do." He shot back. I raised my eyebrows at him. "What you do with a car- fix it to ride smooth, be fast, drift, or drag- that's what an artist is doing with paint. You say what you want with the way your car moves, they say it with what image they want to put down on canvas."
My eyebrows furrowed at his deep explanation. He was the only one who seemed to understand my attraction to cars. The other guys were all about sports or their job, but he was one of those people that wanted to know a little bit about everything.
"Don't look." He murmured as he pretended to look at a rather ambiguous mess of paint thrown on a canvas. "The guy from the bar the other week is staring at you." He paused. "But not as much as his girlfriend is. I love drama."
"I think you've got the wrong guy." I took a sip of champagne as I started at the painting with him. "This is not his scene." I felt my heart start pounding. Seeing Han again after our encounter three weeks ago still made me nervous.
Desi glanced at me as he tilted his head towards the railing that kept people from falling to the foyer below. Sure enough across the building leaning against the railing on the other side of the open foyer was Han. Standing just a little bit back was a glaring Gisele.
"How did you remember what he looked like?" I asked as I started walking to the next bit of paintings. I tried to ignore them best I could.
"How did you know it's not his scene?" He shot back with a raised eyebrow.
"He was a friend of a friend years ago." Not entirely a lie.
"Did you have something?" He asked slowly.
"Once upon a time." I responded.
"His current girlfriend looks like a jealous bitch." He dead panned. I laughed so loud people started to stare.
"Oh, Desi." I said in a voice like I was about to swoon. "You always know just what to say." I joked.
"I do." He continued in the same tone before he grabbed my hand and held it tightly as he stood in front of me. "Darling, it's a gift." I laughed and smacked his shoulder.
"That's enough champagne for you." I teased.
"Me?" A bright smile crossed his face. "Who started it?"
We forced ourselves to behave like adults and continued on through the art museum. I had never been inside one before, so he kept trying to all of the art movements and artists to me. I actually listened this time; mostly to take my mind off Han.
I couldn't believe he was actually here. He had to have been meeting with someone who had money to start some sort of illegal business. From what I knew about him, that was his usual way of starting over. After what happened when his relationship with his last business partner failed, I was almost glad I was doing this and Gisele was going to have to deal with that.
"Mr. Pavia." A fat, slightly drunk Spanish man interrupted Desi's lesson on the lives of the painters. He stopped short when he saw me and remembered to introduce himself.
"Are you enjoying the exhibit, sir?" Desi asked with a polite smile.
"I am, but I wish I could find your mother in this mess of people. I got a old painting I might like to let her borrow." He slurred.
"I believe I know where you can find her." He replied without breaking his polite façade. "I'll be right back. You'll be fine on your own?"
"Yeah. I'll be through there." I pointed to the next room.
"Okay. Let me just get rid of this guy and I'll meet you." He whispered before pulling the drunk guy off towards the stairs.
I watched him go with a smile before wandering into the next room. The paintings it held were of a more impressionist style. I actually like the look of them, and began studying the colors of one that depicted a landscape.
"Beautiful." Han commented from behind me.
"It is." I said flatly without looking back. I nonchalantly took a sip of champagne from my refilled glass.
"I thought you hated art." He deadpanned.
"Not as much as you do." I returned.
"I can appreciate beautiful things." He replied. I slowly walked over to the next piece without responding. He followed me over.
"But that's not why you're here, is it?" I deadpanned. Maybe if I got too personal, he'd leave.
"No." He paused. "I'm here for something a little more-lucratively illegal." He used my own words.
"Of course you are." I replied sarcastically before I could stop myself.
"How long until what's legal isn't enough for you?" He asked. I finally turned to face him.
"What do you mean?" I asked slowly. I met his eyes without flinching.
"You've always been stealing something or street racing. Sitting in meetings deciding what color to paint the walls, what sinks to use in the bathroom, where to put the bar- that has to be driving you insane." He replied arrogantly as he took a step closer to me.
He was right, of course. Some days I just wanted to tell Miles to do it himself, go throw on some comfortable sweat pants and Converse, steal a car, and never come back; but I couldn't let him know that.
"It's been nice to just sit back and make some money." I stepped closer to show I wasn't backing down.
"You aren't doing that yet." He responded.
"I will be in a few months."
"And when you're stuck running it day and night?" He asked.
"When it's stable, I'll be gone to start the next project." I answered honestly.
I turned away from him and started walking out of the room. I had to get away from this man. He was driving me crazy with the questions and I felt way too exposed by how well he knew me.
"Elle." I made the mistake of turning around.
He was almost chest to chest with me. I was hit in the face with the smell of his cologne, which I loved. I blinked a few times in surprise before how close we were hit me and I looked away with a blush. That was the only time I allowed myself to crack the cool, in control façade I had put up.
"Can you at least look at me?" He muttered so quietly I almost couldn't hear him as he tried to pull my chin up with two of his long fingers. I forced myself to raise my eyes and meet his coal black ones from under my lashes.
For a moment I was thrown back to the storage room in Tokyo. I had been having an emotional come apart over seeing Sean again and Han was sitting beside me trying to cheer me up. It was the first time I ever kissed Han; there was like a magnetic attraction between us when we got so close.
Years later and that attraction hadn't dimmed.
Our lips met in a quick, experimental kiss, before coming back together for something a little more passionate. My hand not holding the champagne glass somehow wound up pressed against his chest as his hand not on my chin landed on my hip.
Finally, what I was doing hit me and I pulled back. His intense, questioning dark eyes roamed over my face before I had to look away. The first thing I saw when I looked through the doorway our empty room was Gisele standing at the other end of the exhibit. Her beautiful features were surprised. The other people meandering around hadn't seemed to notice us or the stunned Israeli.
"I have to go." I told Han. I slipped out of his grip and left the room through the exit away from Gisele, leaving him standing alone.
I walked through the crowds and straight to the stairs, where I bumped into Desi.
"Miss me?" He joked with a crooked smirk.
"I couldn't help it." I joked back without thinking.
My heart was still pounding as it twisted painfully in my chest. I could not let myself do that again. I had been in the same position before; making out with Han while his model fling-of-the-week got pissed off on the sidelines. I knew how much it hurt when it was the other way around.
I allowed Desi to lead me around like nothing was wrong. I was like a zombie as I forced all of the emotions I felt at getting that close to Han again surfaced like a whirlwind.
After an excruciatingly boring stretch of time spent staring at old paintings and refusing to look anywhere else for fear that I would see Han again, it was time to go home. I took my shoes off the second I was back in the car with Desi beside me.
As we drove I kept sneaking glances at Desi.
He was gorgeous. He had dark chocolate colored curls that always fell right on his head, dark, almond shaped eyes that were always sparkling with laughter, and a crooked, devil-may-care smirk that would drive most girls wild. He was just the right combination of goofy, athletic, serious, and deep. He was a thoughtful, respectful guy; the kind of guy you settled down with.
So why was I in love with Han?
The question had plagued me since that night in Brazil. Han was definitely attractive; I always loved his high cheek bones, full lips, and his see-to-your-core black eyes. He was the aloof, silent dangerous boy that you knew was going to break your heart in a week; that was made it so much fun to have his attention solely on you.
I had to pretend I was yawning to cover a frustrated sigh from Desi.
Why do I do this to this to myself? I thought bitterly as I glared out the window.
No answer magically appeared on the street. The only thing I could come up with, was I just loved him.
AN: I'm considering copying and pasting my reviews from this story on my other account onto this one so I can completely delete it. Is that sad?