Spanish Surrender, page 30
As their eyes met, everyone else faded. God, she was beautiful as she rose from the table. She wore a navy pencil skirt and a form-fitting suitcoat, but she’d left the jacket open, revealing she’d failed to fasten the top few buttons on her white Oxford shirt. The choice showed off her throat and a hint of collarbone that brought her look down a level from slick to sexy, or maybe Loreto just found her sensual in any outfit.
“You’re here,” Simone said, after the receptionist closed the door. Her tone held a mix of surprise and awe that made Loreto’s heart ache.
“I said I’d come.”
“I know, but I thought . . . I worried, actually, that you wouldn’t want to anymore.”
“Want is complicated,” Loreto said, “but I made a commitment, and I keep my word.”
Simone’s shoulders fell slightly, and her smile didn’t light that electric spark in her stunning eyes. “I see.”
The sadness in those two words softened Loreto’s defenses, and she spoke before she thought. “Yesterday was . . . hard.”
Simone sighed. “Yes.”
“I got scared,” Loreto admitted, the pain of saying the word pushing her forward instead of holding her back. “And hurt, and it’d been a long time since I’d felt that way. I didn’t like being pulled back into a place I didn’t want to go, so I lashed out.”
“You had a right to. You have a right to be angry. The world has been terrible and unfair—”
“But you haven’t.”
Simone let a soft shot of a laugh escape. “Yes, I have. I told you so many stupid things. I went on and on about work ethic when you’ve had to work harder than anyone I know to get so much less.”
Loreto smiled reluctantly. “Yeah, that was kind of shitty and wrong, but you didn’t understand. I didn’t give you the chance to. But even if you had, your life experiences have shaped you as much as mine have me. I can’t control either of those two things.”
“We’ve lived very different lives. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You made some good points, too. Ones I hadn’t let myself acknowledge.”
Simone shook her head.
“It’s true. You made me see that not being able to control something and not caring about it are two different things.” She swallowed the last sticky bit of her pride before adding, “And I do care, Simone. I care about you.”
Simone opened her mouth and took a single step toward her, but the door to the conference room opened again.
“Buenos dias,” a man’s voice said, and Simone’s eyes left Loreto’s. It was just a little flick, but it was enough to break the spell. When she turned back, she’d already covered the openness of her previous expression with a polite, apologetic smile.
“Please hold that thought because we’re going to come back to it,” she whispered, before leaning past her to greet the man and woman who’d come in behind her. “Gracias, y buenos dias, Señor Navarro, Señora Navarro,” Simone said as she plastered a polite smile on her face.
She shook each of their hands, giving Loreto a chance to take a few slow, deep breaths. She wasn’t nearly as adept at switching between the personal and the professional, and it stung a little bit that Simone had managed to do so quickly. Still, she shouldn’t be surprised at Simone’s ability to put work above everything else. She hadn’t gotten where she had by letting emotions get in the way.
Loreto heard Simone say her name, and she turned to greet the couple, who appeared to be in their late sixties. While the woman was a few inches shorter and a few inches slimmer around the middle, they both had gray hair and wore glasses over deeply creased eyes. They had similar almond complexions and easy smiles as well. She wondered if they’d always looked alike or if their styles had merged over a lifetime of sharing space and dreams. The thought only amplified the wound she felt at Simone’s withdrawal, but she managed to greet them both and introduce herself as a local translator as they settled around the small, rectangular table.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me today. I’m honored to be here,” Simone said while facing the Navarros. Loreto translated, and they nodded serenely, like they’d heard all this before.
“I’ve read some of the books you’ve published, obviously with Loreto’s help,” Simone said, with a smile they didn’t quite return, “and I’ve been deeply impressed with both the content and quality of the work.”
She waited, both for Loreto to catch up and for the Navarros to respond. She got the first, but not the second, as the couple’s expressions never changed.
“And clearly I’m not the only one who’s been moved by these compelling stories.” Simone forged on. “I was sent here to your beautiful country with a very generous offer from one of America’s biggest and more resourceful publishing houses.”
Loreto translated, trying to keep her voice even and her inflection as close to Simone’s as possible, but her stomach tightened again as they approached the heart of the meeting.
Simone slid some papers across the table. “You were privy to this information before the meeting, but I feel obligated to point out the number at the top because it is, I think, generous.”
Loreto couldn’t read the number, but she could tell it was a long one, with more place values than she was accustomed to seeing. The Navarros didn’t look impressed, though, and Loreto felt a little twinge of satisfaction that these two Spaniards couldn’t be easily bought, even with so many zeros. Then she glanced at Simone and felt immediately guilty. She did care about this woman, and she did want her to succeed in business. Or rather, she wanted her to be happy. She wanted her to see a payoff for her years of work and want. And she wanted to be part of fulfilling Simone’s dreams, even if only for these moments.
Finally, Señora Navarro spoke in Spanish. “We’ve seen the numbers, but we didn’t bring you here to talk about money. We want to discuss values.”
Loreto translated for Simone, who only nodded solemnly.
“Ultimately, we need to know our legacy will be protected, for us, and for all our authors and employees, not only now, but going forward.”
Loreto gritted her teeth only a second before relaying the message to Simone. This was it. This was the moment she’d dreaded, the moment where Simone’s dreams hung suspended on a single lie. Loreto didn’t even blame her for saying it. She saw a bigger picture, a broader scenario where the end would undoubtedly justify the means. The literary world would gain a treasure, and she would gain the power to alter a system that had stymied her and hundreds, if not thousands, of others. Simone smiled, slowly and genuinely, like a woman secure in the choice she’d already made, and Loreto said a silent prayer that she’d feel the same sort of peace when it came time for her to echo the lie sitting on those beautiful lips.
“No,” Simone said, emphatically.
Loreto stared at her, then at the Navarros, who clearly needed no translation.
They all sat there trying to process the single word hovering between them, until Simone offered a little more. “No one in New York cares about your legacy.”
Loreto translated, her own confusion seeping into her voice, but Simone continued bluntly.
“You could certainly write caveats into the contract to keep authors in print or providing Spanish translations for future works. Those conditions would likely be honored for a while. But as to respecting a uniquely Spanish voice or tone or mind-set, they’ll never be given a second thought.”
Loreto repeated the words, but before she’d even finished, Señor Navarro had already pushed back from the table. The only thing stopping him from storming out was his wife’s hand landing gently on his forearm as she asked, “Why come here today to say these things?”
Loreto translated, wanting very much to hear the answer as well.
“Because I want to buy your company,” Simone said, a little tremor of uncertainty creeping in her voice.
Loreto had barely caught up before a red-faced Señor Navarro said he wouldn’t sell to her.
Simone waited for Loreto to explain before raising her hands slightly and saying in her clearest voice, “I understand. I think you’ve made the right decision, but I’m not speaking for my company anymore, or any company.”
Loreto translated the comment before turning back to Simone every bit as confused as the couple across the table.
“I resigned my employment this morning, or last night, maybe. It was kind of a blur. But the point is, I want to buy Libertad Press. Me, personally, on my own, which is why I’ve prepared a competing offer.” She slid several new papers over to them. “It’s not nearly as much money, but I’m desperately hoping the other terms might be more attractive on a personal level.”
Loreto glanced at the contracts the Navarros were reading intently, but she couldn’t bring herself to make sense of what Simone had said, much less translate any of it. Instead, she stared at the stranger beside her and said, “Wait, what?”
“I quit,” Simone said bluntly. “I was terrified for about ten minutes, because I hadn’t really thought it through, but my boss asked me if I could be trusted to do what needed to be done, and then I did.”
“What?” Loreto asked again, a little louder to be heard over the rush of blood in her ears.
Simone sighed dramatically, but her smile only grew. “I don’t want to be part of a system that keeps people like you down. I don’t want to live in a country where you aren’t welcome. I don’t want to play a game we can’t win. And you were right. Juanes Cánovas and the other authors here don’t need a voice. It was stupid of me to ignore the fact that they’ve already told their own stories, and the Navarros have already shared them. What they need now is someone who knows how to amplify the work they’ve already done. I can do that. I have those skills, and I’ve had the passion my whole life. None of us need a high-rise in New York or a million-dollar marketing department. I could keep the company here if I had the team or people . . . or person beside me.”
“But what about your dreams? You were so close to having everything you wanted. All the power, all the control. Why throw them away?”
Simone smiled. “Remember what you told me about Isabella and the Alhambra? Well, it turns out the same was true for me. Andalucía just happened to be where I found something I wanted more than total control.”
Loreto’s vision swam and her mind reeled. She could barely breathe for the unfamiliar press of hope filling her chest, but her brain rebelled. This couldn’t be real. Things like this didn’t happen to people like her. “What if these people don’t sell to you?”
Simone laughed, a bubbly sound laced with a nervousness that suggested she might not be as confident as she seemed. “I don’t have a plan for that, but I have faith, and hope, and the skills to make this work. And I have passion for this work again.”
The uncertainty in her voice made Loreto’s emotions even stronger. Simone was flying by the seat of her pants, for her.
“Oh, and I have love,” Simone said. “I love these books, and I’ve fallen in love with this country. And you. I’ve fallen in love with you along the way. And this is Spain, so I’m hoping that’s enough.”
Loreto stared at her, disbelieving everything she’d heard and yet not disbelieving.
Simone’s chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, and her eyes widened dramatically. “Oh God, Loreto, come on. Please tell me that’s enough for us to figure this out. Please tell them, too.”
They turned to the Navarros, who were both staring at them with the same wide-eyed expression.
“Quick,” Simone urged. “Translate part of that, but maybe not all of it, just the good parts, or the business parts.”
Señor Navarro raised his hand placatingly, then said, “That won’t be necessary.”
“Yes,” his wife said kindly. “We’ve heard enough.”
“You have?” Simone asked. Backing up, she added, “Did you just speak English?”
“Of course,” Señora Navarro said, as if she found the question absurd. “We run a business in Málaga. Everyone speaks English here.”
Simone turned to Loreto. “Everyone speaks English?”
Loreto finally grinned. “Pretty much. But eye on the prize, make your pitch.”
Simone blinked and drew in a deep, flustered breath before saying, “I think I just did.”
“You did,” Señor Navarro said, “and I think my wife and I are on the same page. This is exactly the type of proposal we’ve dreamed of.”
“Yes,” Señora Navarro confirmed. “We’d like to run the offer by our lawyers, but assuming everything checks out, we’ll sign this contract by the end of the week.”
“Really?” Simone sounded more astounded than professional. “I didn’t really think this would work.”
The Navarros laughed, and Loreto put her hand on Simone’s arm, just like Señora Navarro had to her husband. “I think she means thank you.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“Thank you,” the Navarros echoed, before rising from the table.
Simone and Loreto shook their hands, and they all promised to be in touch as soon as possible. Then, with a steady hand at Simone’s elbow, Loreto led them out into the narrow, stone street and around the corner before slumping against a wall.
“What just happened?”
Simone rested her back beside her on the wall as they both stared straight ahead. “They spoke English!”
Loreto laughed. “I think the bigger issue is that you just bought a Spanish publishing house.”
“Really?” Simone asked, her voice a little breathless. “I sort of hoped the bigger issue would be the fact that I’m in love with you.”
“Oh,” Loreto said, all the adrenaline that had only begun to fade rushing back again. “You really said that.”
“I did.”
“I didn’t just imagine it amid all the other confusing stuff.”
“You did not.”
For once, Loreto didn’t rush to react. How could she? Nothing in her life had prepared her for this moment, or for this woman. Simone had just thrown all her work and dreams away for a terribly risky investment, and she wasn’t just talking about the publishing house. Simone had done that for her. She’d listened. She’d cared. She’d changed the entire course of her life because she loved her. What could Loreto possibly say to convey the depth of what she felt stirring inside her right now? All the hope, all the anguish, all the fear and joy and absurdity added up to something powerful and wonderful and terrifying.
“Love.” Loreto opened her eyes and rolled over onto her shoulder, still bracing herself against the wall, but now staring at Simone. Then she began to laugh. Deep, throaty, shoulder- and stomach-shivering laughter that cracked her façade and shook it to the ground.
“What?” Simone asked.
“You finally did it,” Loreto answered.
“Did what?”
“I told you, one day you’d surprise me, and you finally did.”
“I surprised you by falling in love?” Simone asked, almost incredulous.
“No. I mean, yes, but more surprisingly, you surprised me by making me fall in love with you, too.”
Chapter Seventeen
Simone had no idea how long they’d been kissing in the alleyway. Thankfully, none of the locals seemed to pay them any mind. Perhaps this sort of thing happened every day in their world, but to her, the entire situation still felt dizzyingly magical. Or maybe that was just the effect Loreto’s lips and hands had on her. She got the sense that if she pushed a little, they’d both end up naked right here.
Thankfully, the thought was still unfamiliar enough to startle her. Pulling back just far enough to catch her breath, Simone stared into Loreto’s eyes. “This is really happening, right?”
Loreto nodded and ran her tongue along swollen lips. “Totally happening. All of it.”
“Okay,” Simone said, then took a steadying breath. “What do we do now?”
“I have no idea,” Loreto said.
“You’re the guide.”
“You’re the boss.”
Simone laughed. “I can only be the boss of so many things. I quit my job, emptied my bank account, and bought a publishing company. Also, I bared my soul. I think that’s all the decisions I’m capable of making this morning.”
“Okay.” Loreto kissed her quickly once more. “Fair enough. We should probably celebrate, right?”
“I thought that’s what we were doing.” Her smile turned coy.
“Then we should move the celebration to some place horizontal.”
“I like the way you think.” She kissed her again, and for a heated moment, the possibility of going horizontal right there resurfaced, but their make out session was interrupted by the low growl of an empty stomach.
“Did that sound come from you or me?” Loreto asked between kisses.
“Probably me. I haven’t eaten since churros yesterday.”
Loreto paused and furrowed her brow. “I had some fruit last night.”
“Healthy.”
“It was soaked in wine, so technically I had sangria last night.”
Simone laughed again, the joy rolling through her whole body. She could get used to that sensation. “Is it wrong that I’m glad you struggled last night? I mean, I hated upsetting you, but I can’t stand the thought of going through that torment alone.”
“You were not alone in being tormented,” Loreto said. “I was a mess. Honestly, it stung a little bit to see you looking so good this morning. I went in hoping you’d be a little more haggard.”
“You should’ve seen me at midnight after I hung up the phone with my boss, or my ex-boss. Though to be honest, I don’t know which of us was more astonished, me or him.”
