Translation of Love (8 page)

“Cool. Well, whatcha doin for lunch? You wanna get out of here later and grab a bite?”

“Yeah, sure, I’d like that,” I reply as she leaves my office.

The rest of my day is uneventful. I’m able to get through my work without interruption or any major mishaps. Lunch with Jacinda was strange. She did nothing but talk about the ultra hot Latin singer Victor Garza. What surprised me the most was that I thought about Victor most of the day, even when I wasn’t with Jacinda. I want to be happy that there’s someone in my life that interests me but the idea of letting him get too close to hurt me is terrifying. I need to find a way to express that to him without giving too much of myself away.

I make it home in record time and get dinner started. I’m pouring myself a much needed glass of wine when my phone rings. I look at the caller ID and my heart flutters when I see Victor’s name on the screen. I try to keep my annoying giddiness under wraps when I answer the phone.

“Hello?”

“Is it sad that I’ve been home less than five hours and I miss you already?”

I can’t help it, I giggle. “Yes, it’s truly pathetic.”

“Sarcasm will get you nowhere. I think deep down you like it that I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“That’s what scares me,” I say as I take a sip of wine.

“That’s a loaded statement.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, what scares you?”

“Umm…” I think I’ve just opened a can of worms that I may not be ready to deal with.

“Do I scare you? Do men in general scare you? Are you scared of relationships? Are you scared of getting hurt? Are you scared that you like me thinking about you?”

“Yes.” I’m smiling but even the thought of this conversation scares me.

He laughs. “Yes to which one?”

“Umm, all of them?”

Silence.

“Ellie, it’s okay to be scared. We can take things as slow as you want, okay? I can proceed with caution if that’s what you need.”

I realize that I’ve been holding my breath when I finally let out a sigh. “Okay.”

“Okay. Is this conversation too heavy for you?” How does he manage to extract information from me without making it too painful? He can somehow sense my discomfort and calls me out on it without making it a big deal.

“A little.”

“How bout an easier question? How was your day?” I don’t think Brian ever asked me about how my day went. In fact, Brian never asked me anything regarding my life, interests, hobbies, friends or family. I guess it’s true what they say about hindsight.

“My day was okay. Oh, I just remembered something.”

“What?”

“My HR manager, Jacinda, went to see you on Friday.”

“No way!” He sounds genuinely stunned at this news, which I find endearing.

“Yes, she was so excited. She’s in
Love!!!
”

“Oh no,” he says with a chuckle.

“Yup, and according to her, she got a little smooch from you.”

“Next subject.” At that, I burst out laughing. For me, laughter is usually something that I force. Victor is easy to talk to and he has a way of pulling me out of my shell in a way that no one has been able to do before. I enjoy laughing with him. He brings out the silly, sarcastic side of me. I think I’ve missed that.

“I see how you are, making out with the fans and all that.”

“Nooo, no. It’s not like that.” I can hear from the tone of his voice that he’s smiling. “Some of them will ask for a hug or a kiss and I feel bad. They’ve stood in line for hours just to see me so I’ll give them a peck on the cheek. It’s completely innocent. I don’t wanna be a dick to them.”

“You don’t strike me as the dick-ish type.”

“Well, thanks, Babe.” Something stirs in me when he calls me that. It’s not like he’s trying it on for size. He says it like he means it. Like that one word has so much potential.

“You’re welcome. So, what are you up to?”

“I am looking over some paperwork, and I’ll be heading over to the recording studio in about an hour. How about you?”

“I’m making dinner.”

“Okay. I’ll let you go so you can eat. I’ll call you tomorrow?” It makes me smile that he asks for permission to call me. It makes me smile that, for once, I’m not overthinking my reply.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Alright. Good night, Love.”

“Good night.”

Victor disconnects the phone. I sit and stare at it for a while thinking about our conversation and how much I actually like talking to him. I finish making dinner and I eat in silence. For the first time in a very long time, I find myself wishing that I wasn’t eating alone. Can I really miss someone that I barely know? I push that idea out of my head. It’s a thought that I’m not ready to consider. Victor said that he would proceed with caution. Maybe that’s exactly what I needed to hear to be able to move forward with the notion of getting to know him better.

Without a doubt, this has been the longest week of my life. I’ve been going on autopilot, just running through the motions, for the past four days. Now that it’s Friday, I don’t know what to do with myself. Victor sent me a text message while I was at work letting me know that he was back in town and checked into the hotel. That message sent both a jolt of panic and a surge of excitement rushing through my system. It’s like everything having to do with him is a battle that wages inside of me. A fight between fear and a real desire to get to know him. Letting the desire win out takes a lot out of me but I promised myself that I would at least try to allow myself this, even if it’s just for a short while.

I made plans to meet Victor at his hotel. I’m tired from a long work week and the thought of going out to dinner tonight is not appealing to me. If someone would have told me a week ago that I would be volunteering to meet a hot guy in his hotel room, I would have thought they were crazy. Yet, here I am standing in a hotel elevator doing exactly that. The elevator dings, alerting me that I’ve arrived on the top floor. My heart rate spikes when the doors slide open. My feet are like cement blocks weighing me down. The fear is like a vine slowly wrapping around my limbs, keeping me rooted to my spot. I can tell it’s the beginning of a panic attack. I haven’t had one in so long, I’d forgotten how they felt. I do the breathing technique my old therapist taught me a few years back. Breathe in for three seconds, hold it for three seconds, release for three seconds. I do this a couple of times and slowly the panic starts to rescind. I regain control of myself and realize the elevator doors have closed. After a few more breaths, I push the button to open the doors again.

Moments later, I’m in front of Victor’s door, hoping that I’ve managed to calm down enough that he won’t sense something’s wrong. I give myself a mental pep talk and lightly knock. Victor opens the door and the sight of him causes my breath to catch. Instantly, the panic that threatened to cripple me just moments ago is gone. The smile on his face tells me that everything is going to be okay. I’m not sure why he has a calming effect on me but it’s a welcome surprise.

“Hi, Babe,” he says. Instinctively, I walk into his arms. He wraps his arms around me, kisses the top of my head and asks, “Ellie, you okay?”

I tilt my head back so that I’m looking at his warm eyes. “I’m good. I’m glad you’re here,” I say softly.

He gives me a tight squeeze. “Me too,” he replies, loosening his hold on me. “Come on in. You hungry?”

“Starving,” I say with a nod.

“I am too. Whatcha in the mood for?” he asks like he actually cares. I’m not used to men caring about what I want.

“How about Chicken Parm?” I’m surprised that I’m even willing to offer a suggestion. My usual reply would be, “Whatever you want.”

“Chicken Parm, it is then.”

Victor saunters across the room. I can’t help but notice how his blue t-shirt hugs his chest. The dark wash jeans he’s wearing hang a little low. He sits on the couch next to me after our dinner has been ordered. I notice the air of confidence around him, how he carries himself with ease. He’s in control of every movement of his body, it’s almost graceful. He knows exactly what he’s doing and I wonder if it’s from years of putting on a performance in front of an audience. Whatever it is, it’s definitely a good look on him. He reaches over and pulls my hand into his. It makes me smile because I’ve come to expect this gesture from him in the short amount of time I’ve spent with him.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks, bringing me out of my semi daze.

“I’m okay, why?”

He pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “You just seemed…I don’t know upset maybe, when I opened the door.”

Fuck. He did notice that I was off earlier. “I’m sorry.” I divert my attention from his eyes down to the ground. “I’m fine, really. I guess I was a little nervous.” It’s true, I was nervous, but it was much more than that. I was on the verge of a full on panic attack, though I would never admit that to him.

“Hey,” he calls softly, pulling my chin up with a gentle tug of his hand on my chin. “You don’t have to be sorry. I was a little nervous too.”

He seems like such a good guy, the kind of guy who will do whatever it takes to make sure that you feel safe. The kind of guy who will calm your fears and hold your hand through the hard stuff. A guy like my dad was with my mom. A guy that I was sure a few days ago was impossible to find. I push these thoughts out of my head before the confusion grabs hold of me. I focus on what he’s just admitted to me.

“You were nervous?” I ask in a “yeah right” kind of tone.

“Yeah, I think maybe it was just the anticipation, driving down here earlier and then waiting for you to get here. Kind of did a number on my head.”

“Really?” I’m stunned by his admission.

He nodded his reply. “Then I saw your face, and all the nerves went away. I was just happy to see you.”

“Me too.” I look into his milk chocolate eyes and I see a change happen. They go from warm and sweet to heated, full of hunger. He wants to kiss me. I can tell just by that look. It weakens my already flimsy defenses. His lips brush against mine. The sensation stirs something inside of me, leaving me wanting more. I know he’s holding back for my sake, he’s keeping his promise of proceeding with caution. Before I can seek any further connection, a knock on the door brings us back to reality. He puts his forehead against mine and smiles. It’s a simple touch but it seems almost as intimate as his kiss.

“Food’s here,” he whispers. He moves to answer the door. He motions the room service attendant in and instructs him on where to arrange the food. We eat together and I tell Victor all about my week at work, explaining in detail what I do, my responsibilities and my work schedule. I talk to him about my house, how it was abandoned and in shambles, how it was a labor of love for me to fix it up. I’m careful to give him only pieces of my life, the ones that are free of demons, my constant insomnia and soul crushing memories.

Victor describes his apartment in New York. He likes the convenience of being centrally located but he doesn’t feel at home there. He tells me about the progress he’s made in the recording studio over the last few days. He tells me more about his mother and brother and how close they are. When he’s done talking, I feel like I’ve made a real connection to him. He has many sides but he’s not ashamed or afraid to share any of them. I’ve known that with every passing hour I’ve spent with him, the questions were coming. Questions that I have no desire to entertain or to answer, because those answers will lead to those pieces of my life that I’m so adamant to bury. I know those questions are coming but it still surprises me when he asks.