Page 27 of Winning Match (League Valencia #1)

Marlowe

“I look forward to working together,” I say, shaking José’s hand firmly.

“As do I.” He smiles, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “We’ll touch base by the end of the week.”

I nod in agreement, before exiting José’s office. With my head held high, I stride from the building, my pace measured, even as my heart gallops. Once I turn the corner of the street, I rest my back against a building and nearly sag with relief.

Pulling out my phone, I text Grandpa.

Marlowe

Costa is in.

I did it. José Costa agreed to partner with Prescott Sail for his expedited delivery and, depending on how things progress, work with us in the future. He dangled the carrot of having Prescott fulfill the order for six new keelboats, four of them of the J70 class.

Relief whirls through me, twisting in the pit of my stomach as the adrenaline I’ve been clinging to for days, weeks, months slowly dissipates.

I pull in a breath, perhaps the first full breath I’ve taken in months where Prescott Sail is concerned. Laughing to myself, I rest my head back against the building and look up, the vista slamming into me.

The sky is a deep blue, even though it’s nearly seven p.m. Palm trees sway in the light breeze the evening hours kick up, their fronds strong and powerful.

The beautiful buildings swirl around me—rich in history, stunning in architecture, playful in color.

And the energy of the city—calm and relaxed, fun and thrilling, centered on community and connection—pulses in my veins, reminding me that this is my life.

Right now, I live here. I’m the girlfriend of Alejandro García. I closed the deal with José Costa.

And it’s my twenty-seventh birthday.

I snort to myself, closing my eyes for a heartbeat. I didn’t tell Ale that it’s my birthday as I didn’t want him to feel obligated to do something for me.

But Bianca invited me out for a drink to celebrate and I promised to meet her before I head home to wait for Ale to return from his busy day. He’s watching tapes with his team tonight.

A motorbike zips past and my eyes pop open. I walk toward Turia, crossing the colorful flower bridge, when I can’t wait any longer.

Even though he’s busy, I want to share my news with Ale.

I sit on a bench, right in the center the bridge, surrounded by beautiful flowers—they remind me of Forget Me Nots, the same ones I would plant with Mom—and pull out my cell phone.

He answers instantly, “Hey!”

“Hi.” I smile, nearly bursting with the news.

A second ticks by. “You going to tell me how it went?”

“He said yes!”

“He said yes,” Ale repeats, genuine joy wrapping around his words. And then, “Well, of course he did. Who could say no to you?”

I roll my eyes but can’t stop smiling. My cheeks ache but the relief I feel runs deep, indicating just how dire the situation was becoming, just how much stress it was causing. “I’m so happy.”

“You should be. You worked hard for this. And you did it.”

“I did it,” I breathe out.

“I’m proud of you, Marli. And I never had any doubt.”

His words squeeze around my heart. The belief Ale has in me is the same that Grandpa, that Dad, always held to. In the five years we dated, I don’t think Gerard ever recognized how hard I worked, how deeply I cared, how invested I am in Prescott Sail.

How does Alejandro understand so much in a small amount of time?

“Thank you,” I murmur. A beep comes through on my phone and I pull it away from my ear, grinning. “That’s Grandpa beeping in.”

“I’ll let you go. I gotta get back anyway.”

“Oh! Sorry. I know you’re busy?—”

“Don’t worry, Marli. I’m thrilled you called. See you tonight.” Ale disconnects and I click over to Grandpa.

“You did it, kid,” are his first words.

“ We did it, Grandpa.”

He pulls in a breath, and I can hear his relief, his pride, through the line. “And on your birthday, too. Happy twenty-seventh, Marlowe Claire.”

I roll my lips together to keep my emotions in check at Grandpa showing a slice of sentimentality. “Thank you, Grandpa.” Then, I run him through everything that transpired at my meeting with Costa. The initial terms I proposed, the inclusions he requires, the final offer we outlined.

As I speak, I stand from the bench and walk toward Corcho where I’m meeting Bianca.

By the time I arrive at the bar, the bright blue sky is fading into a deep, royal blue and burnt orange as dusk washes over the city.

I tell Grandpa I love him and tuck my phone into my purse as I push in to B’s and my favorite neighborhood jaunt.

“Surprise!” The cry rings out around me.

I stop walking, my head snapping up, as pure shock jolts through me. The bar isn’t nearly packed but it’s pretty full—and with people I know.

Andrés and Luca post up in front of the bar while other League Valencia fútbol players I’ve had the pleasure of meeting cluster at high-top tables. Bianca sits on the ledge of the bar, beaming at me, a birthday girl tiara in her hand.

Abuelita sits at a table in between Paloma, who smiles broadly, and Rubén, who keeps his face impassive but tosses me a wink when I catch his eye. And there, right in the center of the bar, is Alejandro.

He’s watching me curiously, a hesitant smile on his lips, questions in his eyes.

Is this too much? Not enough? Are you happy?

I laugh, my hand lifting to cover my mouth as he steps in my direction.

And I can’t help it. I don’t know if it’s the natural high of the day, the excitement of my birthday, the fact that his family and friends are all here, staring at us, but a torrent of emotions surge to the surface.

Alejandro did this for me. He planned a surprise birthday party and filled the bar where we first met with the people I’ve connected with in my short time here. A short time that feels more significant and meaningful than any other time in my life.

It’s too much, too real, too…everything.

I rush to meet him, and I don’t hold back.

I know Ale sees it in my expression because the smile that stretches across his face is pure happiness. I catch a glimpse of it before I hurl myself into his arms and plant my lips on his.

We kiss hard, his arms banding around me.

Cheers and whistles ring out, but I’m not embarrassed. Even as Abuela shouts, “Be careful or they’ll send you to La Isla !”

I don’t see the look Rubén gives her, but it must be withering because a fresh peal of laughter sounds. As our friends grab drinks and break out into pockets of conversation, I pull away from Ale. Our eyes hold and, in that moment, we acknowledge what we’ve been ignoring.

This is more. This is real. This is something entirely different than we bargained for.

I can’t put it into words, not right now. But at the expression that crosses my face, Ale dips his chin and kisses my forehead.

And that is enough to center me.

“Are you surprised?” He places me gently on my feet.

“Very. I-I had no idea,” I admit, still amazed by his thoughtfulness.

“I’m glad. It’s small and simple but?—”

“It’s perfect,” I breathe out. “The last time I went out for my birthday, I was twenty-three.”

“You should celebrate every year,” Ale admonishes.

I shrug but grin at him. “Thank you for doing this.”

“It’s my pleasure. Bianca planned a lot of the entertainment so?—”

“Listen up, everybody!” B interrupts, a microphone in her hand. “This karaoke battle is gonna be epic!”

Ale groans, Abuela cheers, and Luca shakes his head.

But I laugh. Right now, I’m at the center of something larger than myself. I’m thriving amongst a group of my peers.

I fit in. I belong. I’m…home.

I stride forward and hold out my hand.

Bianca’s eyes flash with surprise as Ale cuts a loud whistle.

Pushing away the insecurities that have plagued me for years, the burden of constant responsibility, the stress of always rising to the occasion, I spin in front of the hot pink and black backdrop Bianca set up and kick off karaoke.

Bianca cues up the song, grinning wickedly. “My choice, Mar.”

Nerves wash over me and I snort as the opening lines of “Milkshake” by Kelis rings out.

I laugh but I begin to sing and dance.

And the bar erupts. Bianca screams and Ale looks at me with amusement and pride shimmering from the depths of his eyes.

I smile at him as I embrace turning twenty-seven. Deep down, I know everything is about to change.

My birthday party is one of the best nights of my life. It brims with carefree fun and excitement. I spend time chatting with Alejandro’s family before they dip out. The fact that they showed up means more to me than they know.

It’s not just that they came to the party. It’s that they genuinely wanted to be present, and I could feel that in their warm hugs and birthday wishes.

Once the door closes behind Abuela, the bartender, a friend of B’s, lines up shot glasses and pulls out a bottle of tequila. The night grows rowdier from then on.

Singing, shots, and endless dancing.

Posing for photos, being pulled into various conversations, and enjoying every moment.

It’s raucous and wild, intimate and freeing.

When Bianca presents me with a cake in the shape of a sailboat, a pink twenty-seven on the sail, I almost cry.

“No tears. Just wishes,” Andrés shouts, keeping my emotions checked.

I nod at him, smiling at my friends as they sing “ Cumpleanos Feliz .”

Then, I make the wish that is rooted in the center of my heart and blow out the candles.

The penthouse is dark and quiet when we push inside. Ale carries a Tupperware with leftover cake and a bag with birthday cards and gifts inside.

It’s nearly two a.m.—early by Spanish standards—but by the almost indecent looks Ale shot in my direction over the last hour, I’m eager to be home.

The door closes behind him and immediately, the air changes, charging with the desire that’s been churning between us for weeks.

Tonight, I’m not pumping the brakes or backing down.

Tonight, my actions have nothing to do with our agreement, with the sham of a relationship we’ve cloaked ourselves in.

Ale places the cake and bag on the console table and toes off his shoes. When he turns toward me, his gaze is dark, his eyes heated.

“Everything is different now,” I whisper, my voice soft and quiet. Hopeful. So fucking hopeful that he is correctly reading—fully understanding—the plea in my tone.

I want you. I want this.

“Everything,” he growls, his chin dipping in agreement.

Then, he stalks toward me, picks me up, and carries me to his bedroom.