The Fortunate Ones

During the day, when I’m busy and enjoying life, I feel whole and normal again. I’m more excited for the future than reminiscent about the past. I think Diego and Nicolás can see that, because it’s right around this time that Diego announces he’s bringing a friend for dinner—a young, handsome colleague named Alejandro.CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR“That’s what you’re wearing?” Luciana asks, eyeing my dress from her perch on my bed and scrunching her nose in distaste.

“What’s wrong with this?” I ask, spinning in a circle to take myself in from all angles in the small full-length mirror mounted on the back of my door. I’m wearing a simple white sundress. I’ve worn it a hundred times before, and she’s never said anything about it.

“It’s fine for any other night but…Alejandro is coming to dinner tonight!”

I nod. “And?”

“So maybe you should put something else on,” she says with a pointed glare. When I don’t make a move to change, she hops up off my bed and starts rifling through my closet until she comes back out with a slinky black dress I packed on a whim and have not worn, or even entertained the idea of wearing, even once.

“This!” she says, her eyes wide with wonder. “It looks like something a lady of the night would wear!”

I laugh and yank it out of her hand, hanging it back up where it belongs. “That dress isn’t appropriate. Also, that phrase doesn’t mean what you think it does.”

She frowns. “Fine, but the dress you have on makes you look frumpy.”

“What? No way.” I reach down to lovingly smooth out the faithful cotton fabric. “This dress is a classic.”

“Exactly,” she stresses with every ounce of preteen attitude roiling inside her tiny frame. “And it shows. There are…one…two…three gelato stains down the front.”

Oh, well, yeah. I try in vain to clear the most noticeable stain with the pad of my thumb. It’s there to stay, but it’s tiny, hardly visible at all really. I ignore her remaining reasons for why I should change and instead reach for the hair tie around my wrist and twist my hair into a low ponytail at the nape of my neck.

“Yeah, of course! Why wear your hair down, how it looks the prettiest, when you can just throw it up in a ponytail!” She throws her hands up in defeat. “You know where a pony’s tail is, right? On its butt!”

“Audrey Hepburn wore a ponytail,” I remind her.

“Yeah, but Audrey Hepburn also probably went on tons of dates! You haven’t had a single date since we’ve been here!”

It’s true, not a one. I’ve been a lone wolf since arriving in Spain and that’s the way I’d like to keep it, hence the dress and the ponytail.

I pat her on the head (which she hates) and then pass her up to start down the stairs toward the kitchen. I can hear Olive down there helping her dads prep for dinner. Luciana begrudgingly follows behind me, grumbling under her breath about my “undateable” hair.

When we step into the kitchen, Olive looks up and smiles timidly at me. “I like your dress, Ms. Brooke.”

I thank her while aiming an I-told-you-so grin at Luciana. She sticks her tongue out at me and winds around the back of the kitchen island to steal a piece of bread Diego just took out of the oven. He shoos her away, lest she ruin her appetite before dinner even starts.

My eyes widen as I scan the kitchen. Diego and Nicolás have gone all out for the occasion. The large, antique dining table is already covered in appetizers and wine. Nicolás hurries over, asking me if I’m excited to meet Alejandro.

“I’m sure if he’s a friend of yours he can’t be too bad,” I say with a casual shrug.

He steps closer and drops his voice to a whisper. “Diego tells me half the women at the university have eyes for him.”

I hum in mock interest. “Sounds like he must be one hell of a professor.”

He throws up his hands, exasperated by my lack of enthusiasm. “Forgive me for the intrusion, but you aren’t still interested in that man back home, are you?” He turns to Diego. “What was his name?”

“James, I think,” Diego supplies.

My heart leaps at the mention of his name. “Nope. Thanks for asking though,” I add with a quick, easy smile.

He narrows his eyes in disbelief then quickly changes tactics. “Right. Good.” Then his gaze drops slightly. “Hey, it’s the gelato dress!”

Luciana claps across the room. “Ha! SEE?!”

Jesus! What is it with this family and my clothes?!

“All right, if you guys want me to change, I’ll—”

There’s a knock on the front door, and all four of them freeze in panic then turn to me.

Diego drops his salad tongs and wipes his hands on the front of his apron. “No, no. The dress is fine—endearing even. Anyway, it’s too late to change.” Without warning, he rounds the island and beelines for me. Then he reaches up and tugs the ponytail out of my hair. My long, thick black hair tumbles down my back, and he smiles in appreciation. “Much better. Now, could you please answer the door?”