“I love these, Juan, but please leave the box open here on the counter so anyone walking by can enjoy them.” The candies were gone before noon.
With nothing planned for Sunday, she took a deep breath and fought not to feel pathetic for wanting to spend some time in an attractive student’s world. Doubting he’d be at El Gato, she donned her Goth outfit and makeup and walked farther than she had last Sunday. It was a cool spring day, perfect for exercise, and when she reached the café, she was surprised, and more delighted than she’d care to admit, to find Alejandro there.
He leaped from his chair to wave. “I’m glad you came back. I wasn’t certain what time you’d been here last week, and I was afraid I’d missed you.”
She slid into the chair he pulled out for her. He’d rolled up the sleeves on his white dress shirt, and in neatly pressed jeans, he didn’t look as young as he had last week. She’d been concentrating on not being recognized, however, so maybe her glances of him had been too brief.
“Thank you. I hadn’t looked at the time either. I was out walking, and this is a convenient place to stop.”
He shoved his hair out of his eyes and regarded her with a wicked grin. “Then you didn’t come just to see me?”
“I’m happy to see you, let’s leave it at that,” she replied, glad she’d made the effort. Models knew how to hold a static pose, but energy nearly rolled off him in waves.
“You didn’t bring a book?” he asked.
“No, sometimes I like to just sit and watch people go by.”
“You do that too? I pick out someone and imagine what their life might be. They could be on their way to meet their grandmother, or a lover. The possibilities are endless.”
“You don’t think about their houses?” she asked.
He flashed an amused grin. “No. I think about houses too much as it is. My father complains I spend far too much time playing with cardboard models and not nearly enough with pretty women. What can I get for you? Do you want those little cakes?”
“Yes, I love them, with tea, please.” She sat back and tried not to smile too wide. Alejandro had a disarming charm, but she’d have to carefully manage her remarks to share what little truth she could. Perhaps that she was pretty and single would be all he cared to know.
He returned with two plates of cakes and tea for her. “I ate when I first got here.”
She was sorry she’d deliberately taken her time arriving. “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”
“You told me you weren’t here often, so I didn’t count on seeing you today.”
She took a cake and savored it in tiny bites. “Sometimes I work on the weekends.”
He took a cake from his plate. “What kind of work do you do?”
A partial truth would do. “I’m a photographer.”
“What do you do, weddings, babies?”
A heavy-set man strutted by with a bulldog, their rear ends bouncing in rhythm. She nodded so Alejandro would notice. They tried not to laugh, but couldn’t help it. “I could sit here all day,” she confided. “It’s more entertaining than most films.”
“It is, but tell me about your photography.”
She’d hoped to skip over it. “I do freelance advertising work, print ads, that sort of thing.”
“A cereal box on the table?”
“Sometimes. Now tell me why you’re studying architecture.” She held her breath, and relaxed when he took the bait.
“Barcelona is filled with the most extraordinary architecture in the world, but I plan to work on affordable housing, not mansions for the rich. I want to concentrate on the environment, use solar technology and keep the costs low. Cities shouldn’t have overcrowded slums. Everyone needs a comfortable home.”
When he’d grown serious, she saw him as an attractive man rather than a friendly kid. She hadn’t wanted anything more than an entertaining hour, but there was a huge difference between harmless flirting with a student and playing with a grown man’s emotions. She straightened up in her chair. “Are you considering individual homes rather than blocks of apartments?”
“High-rise slums? Yes. People should have a yard to grow vegetables and a safe place for their kids to play.”
“Suburbs, then. I don’t mean to be rude, but I thought you were younger than you probably are.”
He had a deep, rolling chuckle. “I’m twenty-six. Is that too old for you? Architecture will be my second degree. My first is in business. I must not have impressed you last week. What did you think, that I’m seventeen or eighteen?”