“Do we have time for a shower?”
His eyes lit with joy. “We’ll have to make it fast, but I thought you’d never ask.”
EPILOGUE
Undisclosed Location. Six Months Later…
“Buenos días, Julia. The usual?”
From the back of the line, I nodded at the tall barista in the white apron. “Gracias, Miguel! Can you add a café Americano to my order today?”
He nodded cheerfully. “Por supuesto.”
Miguel was also a student, so I always left him a nice tip, which is why he often started my order the moment he saw me—“Julie,” a.k.a. “Julia”—walk through the door. I came daily to this beachside café because it had the best coffee in town and was only two blocks from our apartment. Okay, it wasn’t exactly an apartment. More like a luxury villa for ex-pats, with an ocean view. But who was asking? Thank God, no one. Paolo said it was better to hide in plain sight, playing the role of wealthy foreigners on an extended vacation, than to try to lie low in a shady part of town. Too suspicious, he’d said.
“Is he making my order? Or do I have to go to the back of the line?” I felt Paolo’s thick, strong arms slip around my waist and his hot breath bathe the nape of my neck.
I sighed happily. “You’re two minutes late. But would I forget your drink, Santiago?” I swiveled in his arms and gazed up at his deeply bronzed, beach town skin. I had to admit, the tropics did Paolo—alias Santiago—justice. Not long after we arrived here, I discovered he loved scuba diving, sailboarding, sailing, snorkeling, running, and swimming…He was a one-man decathlon. And, thankfully, a great instructor for all the stuff I didn’t know how to do.
He gave me a long, deep, lazy kiss. “No, Julia. You always look after me,” he said suggestively.
Oh boy. If he started, I wouldn’t be able to resist him, and then we’d end up arrested for public fornication.
I turned back toward the register, mentally fanning my face. “You just like me because I’m your sugar mama.”
He pinched my ass through my sundress, and I yelped.
“Hey! Just for that, you’re paying for coffee.” I kissed him and trotted outside to the sandy patio with the view of that turquoise water I couldn’t get enough of. California beaches were nothing like this.
I made a little playful wave at Paolo—who looked delicious in his wrinkled, white linen shirt and well-loved cutoffs—through the window and sat down at my favorite small table. It was the one with the giant umbrella, right next to the tall coconut tree. My pale skin and I needed lots of shade.
I began digging out my books, running verb conjugations through my head. I was taking only Spanish classes for now, but next semester, after I got the language down, I planned to take courses in psychology.
I slipped my binder from my backpack and saw a large manila envelope wedged inside.
Oh my God. It couldn’t be. Feeling giddy, I tore open the envelope and slid out its contents.
Yes! There was a new notebook and folded letter.
“Ah, I see you found your surprise.” Paolo—errr—Santiago—whatever—walked toward me with two cups of coffee. A small breeze blew his sun-streaked hair over his eyes, and he made a little huff with his breath to clear his view.
So cute. So sexy. I was so in love with this man.
“But h…h…how?” I asked.
He smiled with those gorgeous, stubble-framed lips and set the coffee in front of me. “I have my ways.” He glanced at the letter in my hand. “Read it.”
I unfolded the white paper, immediately recognizing my mother’s handwriting. My heart lifted. Over the past few months, I’d come to accept everything that had happened. I felt happier than ever, actually. But my biggest regret was not being able to say good-bye to my mom or talk to her every day.
My eyes quickly scanned the paper and drank in the words. “They’re somewhere cold,” I mumbled to Paolo, who sipped his coffee with a triumphant grin. He knew he’d “done good.”
“And,” I added, “she says she’s enjoying having my father all to herself for once, although he snores now, and it keeps her up a lot.”
“Keep reading,” he said.
But as happy as I am, Dakota, to be with your father, to be healthy and alive, I miss you. More than I could ever say in this letter. Which is why I told your father that he is a giant ass for not finding a way for us all to be together. For heaven’s sake, the man stopped a nuclear attack on the United States, but he can’t figure out how to let me see my only daughter? Well, you can imagine that I wasn’t having it. Which is why by the time you get this letter I’ll be right there to read it with you.