Page 127

“All right, Papá ... I’ll think about it.”
47
On August 27, I return to work.
My supervisor is on vacation, and that helps ease my reentry. The best thing for me is not to have her toxic presence around right now. Miguel isn’t here either, and I miss his jokes. But I’m in such an apathetic mood that I would rather no one look at me or talk to me.
Every time I go into Eric’s office or into the archive room, my heart drops to my feet. I can’t help but think about him—the things he said to me, the things we did there—and it’s a great struggle for me not to cry.
My friends haven’t gone on vacation, so I see them now and again in the evening after the gym, and we go to the movies or for drinks. My good friend Nacho tries to talk to me, but I refuse. I don’t want to remember what happened. Eric is still much too present in my heart, and until I can find a way to forget him, I know my life won’t get back to normal.
On August 31, I get a text from Fernando. He’s in Madrid until September 4 because of a case he’s working on, and he’s staying, like always, at a hotel near my apartment. We agree to meet.
I take him to dinner at Cava Baja, and then another night, we go to a Japanese restaurant. After dinner on those nights, we meet up with my friends for drinks. To my surprise, I see that he and my friend Azu have great chemistry, and that pleases me. Fernando continues to behave like a friend, and I’m grateful. On September 3, my supervisor, Miguel, and practically the entire Müller staff return to the office. We’re soon at our usual frenetic pace, and my supervisor has me drowning in a sea of paperwork. Miguel has returned from vacation in a grand mood. While we work, he tells me stories that always make me laugh. The office phone rings, and my supervisor asks me to come to her office.
“Please sit, Judith,” she says, and I comply. “As you’ll remember, Mr.Zimmerman’s visit to the Müller branches in Spain had to be postponed until after summer.”
“Yes.”
“I’ve just spoken with Mr.Zimmerman, and those visits are now being rescheduled.”
My stomach gets queasy, and I feel quite uncomfortable. Just hearing about him makes me anxious. Seeing Eric again is what I want, although I know it’s not the most advisable thing for me.
“I need you to prepare the pertinent dossiers about the branches. Mr.Zimmerman wants to leave on Wednesday.”
“No problem.”
I stand up. I’m going to see him on Wednesday. I’m just about to scream like some madwoman when my boss says, “Judith, come on ... don’t stand there like a half-wit.”
I start to leave her office.
“This time, I will accompany Mr.Zimmerman,” she says suddenly. “He asked me himself when I met with him at Villa Magna yesterday.”
Hearing that almost gives me a stroke. My absurd fantasies about seeing him again go up in smoke, but I manage a meek smile anyway. Eric is in Madrid, and he hasn’t called me. When I leave her office, my legs begin to tremble, and I hurry to my desk. Miguel notices.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It must be the heat,” I respond.
I leave the office as if in a trance. I’m offended. I’m furious. I go to the parking garage and get into my car. When I pass by Eric’s hotel, I take a detour down one of the side streets and park. Like an idiot, I start toward the hotel, but I don’t go in. I stand just a few yards from the door without knowing what to do.
For about an hour, my mind is bubbling and trying to find clarity, when suddenly, I see his car drive up. It stops in front of the hotel, and out pop Eric and ... Amanda Fisher! They’re both smiling, and as they enter the hotel, they look as if they’re having a great time.
What is Amanda doing in Madrid?
What is Amanda doing at that hotel?
The answers collide with each other, and I grow even angrier as they become clear to me. Mad at the world and blinded by what I’ve just seen, I get into my car and head directly to Fernando’s hotel.
When I arrive, I go straight to his room. I knock on the door. He’s surprised to see me.
“Don’t tell me we agreed to meet and I forgot!”
I don’t respond. I throw myself at him and kiss him. When he sees my enthusiasm, he closes the door. Still without speaking, I continue my assault while he takes off my jacket and then unbuttons my slacks, letting them fall to the floor.
I quickly step out of them, and though I still have my heels on, Fernando throws me on the bed as I desperately unbutton his jeans.
“What are you doing, Judith?”