Page 25 of Nacho Boyfriend

“Damn Bernadette. Did she tell you? I’m gonna douse her car with Axe spray.”

“It’s not her fault. How did your grandma get the idea in her head in the first place? It’s not like you’d tell her I was your girlfriend.”

I’m pretty much joking, but Ignacio’s jaw twitches and he stares intently at the wall. There’s nothing interesting on the wall except a tax schedule poster.

“Or did you?” I accuse. He runs long, thick fingers through his mess of hair. I gasp like a Southern Belle. “You did. Mr. Precio, I’m all astonishment. And after such a short courtship.”

“I’ll take care of it,” he says, not amused in the slightest. “I’ll tell them we broke up.”

I snort. “Well, I think you should probably take me to dinner first.”

“It’s not funny. My family’s weird about these things. Especially my grandma.”

“I think I love your grandma.”

For someone who’s the last to know she’s dating the boss, I think I’m being pretty chill about this whole deception. Ignacio is the opposite of chill right now. There’s a vein popping out of his neck. I want to smooth it over with my fingers—kiss it away.

“I didn’t expect the news to make its way around the rumor mill. My dad must have told one of the staff. And those guys are bigger gossips than Mexican women in a Telenovela.”

So that’s why they were wagging their brows at me.

“I’m sorry, Olive. When my grandma started on me yesterday, I panicked. She might be sturdy, but she’s ancient. Also, she knows how to intimidate people.”

“So, how serious are we talking about here? Two, three weeks?”

“Six.”

“Oh.” I blink at him. “Six weeks is before the wedding.”

“Six months.”

Six months!

“Wow. That’s something, since I’ve only been in California for three months.”

He grunts and busies himself with stacks of mail on his desk. “It doesn’t matter because I’m ending it.”

“Ouch.”

“You know what I mean. The lie. I’m ending the lie.”

“I certainly hope it’s not a reflection of my performance as a girlfriend, because I am an amazing cuddler.”

“I’m sure you are.”

“Also, not to brag or anything, but I’m really good at spooning. The small spoon, of course.”

“Isn’t that the same as cuddling?”

“No. Quite different.”

His nostrils flare and he’s just staring at me like I’m completely nuts. I flash him my cheeriest grin.

“That’s all very fascinating, Olive, but I think we’re done here. I wanted you to hear it from me, but I guess it’s too late for that. I’m just sorry I had to drag you into this.”

“I’ll do it.” I shoot up from my chair, extending my hand to him to shake on it. His eyes bounce from my hand to me, from me to my hand, and back again.

“Do what?”