“You’re American, right?” Even though I’d made my intentions clear, he was struggling to get the message. Maybe it was a translation thing? But his English was excellent. It couldn’t be.
“Not that it’s any of your business but yes, I am. And may I ask if you are local?”
“Si, mi hermosa.” He grinned slyly.
“And are all men from around here rude and disrespectful of women, then? Or is it just you?” I looked him hard in the eye. He was certainly taken aback by my question.Good, a hit to the ego.
“I…”
“Because when a woman tells you she doesn’t want your company or your drink, she means it. Besides, I’m competing tomorrow, and a club soda, as you so cleverly tried to insult me over, is exactly what I need, thank you very much.”
I hadn’t realized just how much pent-up frustration I had been holding onto. After it all came out, I had a moment of regret. But only a moment.This guy deserved it. Some rich dude who thinks he’s all that. I just spent a whole two hours stuck in a room with the likes of him. I’m not looking for another one to waste my time on.
However good-looking he may be.
CHAPTER8
SEBASTIAN
Fine. I’ll admit it. Yes, I did grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth, and I’ve not exactly had many doors close on me, especially once they heard my name. Because I am Sebastian Rojas, after all.
Maybe that was it. Maybe the reason this woman wasn’t being receptive to my usual tactics was because she thought I was just some guy from the streets of Cartagena. If she knew I was a billionaire, she would change her tune in no time.
“My name is Sebastian Rojas. You must know me from…” I began, but she brushed me off. Again.
“Did you not hear what I just said? I’m not interested in your name, nor have I ever heard it mentioned before.”
Incredible! How had this woman been living so off the radar that she didn’t know the Rojas Group?!
“You haven’t heard of the Rojas Group? We sell the world’s most exclusive sports cars.” I emphasized the word “exclusive”, hoping she’d get the hint. What I meant was expensive. Really expensive. Like, in the millions expensive.
But the word didn’t seem to bring about the desired effect. Rather, the woman looked even more annoyed. The sigh that she released was near fuming. “Do you think that just because you’re from some rich family that gives you the right to do as you like? To treat people as you see fit? Well, here’s some advice, Mr. Rodas…”
“Rojas,” I corrected her.
“Whatever. I don’t care who you are or how much money you have. All I can say is that you sound like some arrogant little boy who lives off his family’s funds and has no idea how hard life can be. Especially…especially…” At this, she stopped and turned her face away. She was quiet besides…was that a sob? Was she crying?
I’ve ticked off a lot of people in my life, especially women…but I’ve never made any woman cry. Never intentionally, that is.
I should’ve been infuriated by her comment but instead, I felt something inside me thaw. And a pang of a feeling…what was it?
“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Listen, I’ll leave. I’ll…”
She shook her head but still wouldn’t turn back around. “No…I…I’m sorry. I’m upset about…well, something and I’m taking it out on you. I’m sorry…” She caught herself but I could hear another sob in her voice.
“Uh, if you want to talk about it… I might not be the greatest listener…but I can listen…uh…sorry I didn’t catch your name?”
She turned back around. Her big brown eyes were wet with tears. She reached for a tissue from the pile off the table and gently patted at her face. “Elly Hall,” she said.
Elly Hall. Somewhere I had heard that name.
“Wait…of course! You’re that American tennis star set to play against our very own Camila Sanchez.”
For the first time, I saw the hint of a smile.
“But you’re famous!” I said. “Probably even more famous than me if out of the two of us, your name is the one most well-known.” I offered her a smile. A genuine smile. Not the plastered-on one I had been offering her before.
“Maybe,” she said softly.