Page 22 of Falling for the Bosshole

9

Ana tossedher cellphone to the bed. Jonathan just called to say that Ricardo couldn’t make it to the rehearsals, so Lash had given instructions to give her the whole day off to rest. Ana didn’t know what to do with herself. She was glad for the sudden break. At the same time, she was disappointed because it meant she didn’t have to go to the studio; therefore, she wouldn’t see Lash today.

She still recalled the events from last night. It was imprinted vividly in her memory. The dance with Lash, the realization of how she felt for him, the exhilaration of being held in his arms, the unexplainable bond that tied them together as they lay on the dance floor, not touching, not speaking, yet feeling connected.

He didn’t say a word as he brought her back to the apartment. Ana didn’t feel the need to spoil the moment by inane conversation. She wanted to prolong the euphoria that wrapped her entire being even as she watched his car disappear into the night.

“Okay, Ana,” she scolded herself, “stop being so needy.”

The free day was a bonus she never expected. Even if she felt anxious about not seeing him, maybe the time off would make him miss her. She hoped so. Ana decided to go and see Stefan and Nigel. They were good company. Stefan’s frivolous banter and silly laughter would make the day go faster, she decided.

She picked up her purse when the doorbell rang. Ana wondered who it was as she headed towards the door.

“Good morning, Ana.”

It was Lash standing at the threshold. Ana was so surprised she needed to blink twice before she was certain it was him.

“Lash,” she squealed, unable to disguise the pleasure in her eyes, “I was just thinking about you,” she blurted without reservation.

“You were?” Lash replied with a teasing look in his eyes.

“Yes,” Ana replied, suddenly feeling nervous. “I-I wanted to thank you for giving me the day off,” she muttered timidly.

“You had something planned for today?” He asked her eyeing the purse in her hand. “I was hoping you could come with me. There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” he added.

“Of course. I just thought I’d see Stefan. But I can do it some other time,” Ana replied quickly. She wasn’t about to give up spending the day with Lash for all the Stefan’s in the world, she decided.

“Great,” Lash grinned, motioning her to his car.

“Where are we going,” Ana asked although she didn’t care where.

“It’s a surprise,” Lash replied mysteriously.

Ana was satisfied for the moment. Nothing could take away the joy she felt just being with him. He could be as mysterious as he wanted. As they drove into the city, she did recognize the familiar façade of the Mancini Foundation building when they entered the driveway and stopped just outside the lobby floor.

Ana remembered this was where she found out about what happened to her mother. The report from the archives was unverified, and there was no way she could be certain. But in her heart, she knew it was. She wondered whom Lash wanted her to meet.

“My office is this way,” he said.

He seemed a bit worried, Ana thought, as she followed him inside.

He led her past the lobby display and up the stairs to the mezzanine floor. They crossed a narrow hallway that led to a door. Lash pushed against the door and ushered her inside.

This office was modest, almost Spartan in design when compared to the luxury of his apartment and the house he owned. It was probably by choice, Ana decided. She doubted his corporate offices would be this modest. An office table dominated the room along with vintage couches in several places. A palmistry print set decorated one side of the wall. Ana immediately noticed the Gypsy influence in the wall décor.

But it was the man who was seated across the office table that captured her attention. The older man was hunched over the chair with his chin nearly resting on his chest. He seemed to be asleep.

The sunlight filtering through the window illuminated the scant white hair around his balding and blotchy scalp. He looked very ancient, Ana decided, like one of those wizards in the fairytales of her childhood. The old man stirred lightly as they approached, raising his face slowly. Ana swore she could hear the creaking sound his bones made. Undoubtedly, the dull brown eyes were rheumy but exhibited keenness as he focused his attention on them.

“Mr. Vano, this is Ana Garcia, the girl I was telling you about. Ana, meet Mr. Manfred Vano. He traveled from Zafarraya, Spain, just to meet you.” Lash announced.

Zafarraya? The words from the lullaby that her mother used to sing to her? She didn’t think there was such a place.

She stared at the older man who was looking at her intently. Then she looked at Lash, who seemed to be studying her reaction cautiously before he spoke again.

“Remember the report from the archives about the young girl who was kidnapped? You said you felt sure it was your mom. But we had no way of verifying.” He breathed deeply, “I took the initiative of calling some contacts in Spain. I faxed them a copy of that particular document. I mentioned that you remembered the word Zafarraya. They said they would try but made no promises. Well, they did find Mr. Vano here in Zafarraya. He was the cousin of the father of the young girl. Mr. Vano was the one who found the girl that was kidnapped.”

Ana gasped. She couldn’t believe what Lash said. She thought her knees would buckle and lose consciousness. This was surreal. Lash pulled a chair and made her sit.