That drew a tiny little smile out of me, and I had to shake my head to hide it.

Who is this man who goes around, throwing winks and smiles at me?

My future boss—that’s who.

And wasn’t that reason enough to start thinking about having a one-on-one with that flutter in my chest? The fact that this whole thing was a charade was reason enough already. But he’d soon be promoted to head of the division—my division—and I had to remember that.

“Come on,” he said when I remained quiet. “I told you I’d put some food in you, and I am a man of my word.”

Yes, he was. And I shouldn’t forget that either.

Aaron had promised he’d play the role of my boyfriend and that he’d do it wonderfully. And so far, he’d done such an excellent job that he was starting to convince even me that he was a different man from the one I had known in New York.

Chapter Eighteen

Stopping myself from crawling under the table was becoming a real hardship. But if Isabel kept up the Aaron and Lina questioning for a little longer, I’d have no other choice but to do exactly that. Otherwise, my last resort would be to knock down the bride with one of the metallic trays containing the variety of pinchos we were snacking on. It would be a waste of food, and it was her bachelorette-slash-bachelor party, but it’d be the only way. She was a resilient woman; she’d recover in time for the wedding.

We stood in one of the most frequented bars—sidrerías—of my hometown, surrounded by the characteristically loud chatter of people and the sour smell of spilled sidra—the regional apple cider. These were establishments that one could find in every corner of any city or town in this region of the north of Spain. People gathered around in groups of all sizes and ages. Some stood around tall tables, just like we—bride, groom, best man, Aaron, and I—were doing. Others had been seated to have dinner, and some were leaning on the bar, chatting animatedly with the waiters.

Willing my lungs to take a slow, deep, and calming breath, I tried to order my thoughts, so I could dodge the last one of Isabel’s questions.

“Come on. There has to be more to the story of how you two met.” Isabel’s eyes shone with curiosity, bouncing from me to my very stoic fake boyfriend, who stood close enough to my side to steal a fair chunk of my focus. “You are playing really hard to get, Lina.”

“That’s the whole story, I promise.” Sighing, I averted my eyes to my hands, which were lying on the smooth surface of the table. My fingers were busy playing with my empty glass. “Aaron started working for InTech, and that’s how we met. What else is there that you want to know?”

“I want the details you haven’t told me.”

I could tell my sister was about to start whining in that annoying and persistent way that had never once failed to break people and make them give her whatever it was she wanted. I had been there myself—many times.

She tilted her head. “Hey, if you guys experienced lust at first sight and started hooking up and then dating, it’s okay. Nothing to be ashamed of. Plus, it would explain that bed-breaking rumor going around.”

My lips parted, and my eyes widened. “Charo works faster than I thought,” I muttered.

I sensed Aaron shifting by my side, closing the small distance between our arms.

But I didn’t turn to look at him as my sister continued, “I am not Mamá, Lina. You can tell me.” My sister batted her eyelashes, and I heard how Gonzalo cleared his throat. “Or share with the group—fine, whatever.” She rolled her eyes at her fiancé. “Come on. We are listening. Did you guys hook up first? And if so, how many times?”

Daniel, who had been oddly quiet for someone who was supposed to be having a good time, sighed noisily. “I don’t think there’s any need to share that with the group.”

My gaze swiveled in his direction, finding him with a deadpan expression.

“Thanks, Dani,” Isabel gritted out between her teeth. “But I’ll let my sister decide if she wants to share her sexcapades with the table.”

Oh Lord, did she just call it sexcapades?

At the change in Isabel’s tone, Gonzalo wrapped his arm around her shoulders and tugged her against his side. I watched Isabel’s body relax immediately, letting go of what I knew were years of contained animosity toward her fiancé’s brother.

Sighing silently, I felt a pang of guilt slice across my chest. It was unprecedented, and I had no reason to feel responsible for the situation, but at the same time, it was hard not to let some of the weight fall on my own shoulders.

In an ideal world, the best man wouldn’t be my ex. In that same world, I wouldn’t have panicked when learning that he was engaged while I seemed to be stuck in time and alone, and I wouldn’t have felt the need to lie to my family and tangle myself into the web of deception I had woven. Perhaps, in that ideal world, the man by my side would be there because he loved me and not because I had struck a deal with him.

But those scenarios were hypothetical and therefore unreal. Unattainable. And each of them painted a picture that was far from the truth. In the real world, there was a consequence to every decision I made. To every choice that I ever took. A perfect world where life happened neatly and ideally didn’t exist. Life was messy and often hard. It did not wait for anybody to be ready or to expect the bumps on the road. You had to grab on to the wheel and steer your way back to your lane. And that was all I had done. That was what had brought me to where I was. For better or for worse.

It was unfortunate that the one man who Gonzalo shared DNA with was not only my ex, but also the man who had been the other half of the relationship that was the catalyst for me leaving everything I had once called home. But I had made the choice to date him. My university professor. The man who would introduce my sister to the love of her life.

Because life wasn’t ideal. It turned and bent. It spun you out for a minute and swung you right back in the next.

Contrary to what most believed, when I had applied for the program abroad that had taken me to New York, a year after everything had blown up in my face, I hadn’t been escaping Daniel; I had been escaping the situation that my relationship with him had thrust me in. Granted, in the process, he had also broken my heart. And that was what everybody saw. The scolded, heartbroken runaway. But the damage went beyond a simple breakup. After that, I went through the worst year of my life. I almost quit uni and threw away my education. My future. All because people, those I had considered friends at some point, spun disgusting lies about me. And it hadn’t only scarred me; it had also impacted my family.

For one, that sadness that everybody had regarded me with stuck to me across time. And the very few times I had come back home, single, it had thickened until solidifying into something that I carried with me.

Even my parents in a way. I could tell they were scared I’d never bounce back from it. Which was stupid. I was over Daniel. My singlehood had nothing to do with that. I simply … struggled to trust somebody enough to give myself completely. I managed to keep myself one or two feet from anything that had the potential to hurt me. And that always ended one of two ways. I either walked away, or I was the one who was walked away from. But at least, I did come out of it wholly.

As for Isabel, she had gone from loving Daniel for giving her Gonzalo to threatening the best man’s balls. Repeatedly. And while she turned into my fiercest protector and cheerleader, the breakup never shook the foundation of her own relationship. Which was evidence of how much they adored and loved each other. Besides, over the years, she had come to accept that even if Daniel had been at fault for a part, he hadn’t done anything besides accept to break some unspoken rule about dating a former student. Society had done the rest.