Olívia

Olívia
"I’m very sorry for everything you went through," Julien says between instructions. We decided to do a special Brazilian dessert menu once a week.

I’m tempted to say it’s no big deal, but I’m tired of pretending that things don’t affect me.

"I’ve never felt so humiliated in my entire life."

"I can imagine. I was very poor when I was young too. When I came back from France, I slept in scary places just to pay for my studies."

I know he’s not trying to interfere, just showing solidarity. As I expected, the press is spreading my relationship with Guillermo all over the world. They call me Cinderella, even though there’s no evil stepmother in our story.

I thought I’d be scared of having my life exposed like this, but I realized I can simply avoid reading the news.

I don’t have Facebook, and my Instagram has only one post—guess what? About brigadeiro. So, even before the press treated me as the CEO’s chosen one—another not-so-cute nickname because it makes me feel like we live in the Middle Ages—I was already out of the gossip loop. Now I really have no desire to read anything.

But Julien mentioning his poor past tells me that, for sure, people must already know everything about me, including where I lived before meeting Guillermo.

I don’t care. I’ve always been an honest person and have nothing to hide.

"I’m not ashamed of being poor. Actually, I think anyone who looks at me can see that."

"I don’t understand."

"I’m not sophisticated, Julien. Being his girlfriend comes with the fact that we’ll attend many events together. I know how to behave. My mother raised me well, and I’m not awkward in conversation because I’ve read a lot, even though I didn’t go to college. But I don’t know how to choose a dress to go to the opera next week, for example."

"Too bad Martina hasn’t come back yet. She would be very helpful at times like this."

Yeah, I can’t deny that at least one woman among so many men would help. Even though Mrs. Isabel was very kind to me the last time we met, I don’t have enough intimacy to ask her to help me choose an outfit.

"Wait, I think I know how to solve your dress problem. I used to date a salesperson from Saks Fifth Avenue. She could help you choose an outfit for the opera."

"Saks Fifth Avenue? Impossible. Way beyond my budget, Julien, but thanks for trying. I can’t afford to buy anything from that store."

"But Guillermo…"

"No. He’s my boyfriend, but the fact that he’s rich is just a detail to me. I can pay for my own clothes."

He stays silent for a while.

"Do you have a problem wearing clothes from past collections?"

I laugh.

"Definitely not. Especially since I don’t even know what’s in the current collection."

"Then I think we can make it work. Ava told me they have a section in the store with dresses up to seventy-five percent off. They don’t advertise it because pride won’t allow it," he says mockingly. "But I’m sure it would fit your budget. What do you say?"

I look at him, still unsure.

"I can try. Thank you so much for helping me."



I send a message to Guillermo to let him know I’m on my way, and he tells me to come up via the private elevator.

When I reach his floor, he’s already waiting for me.

Although I’ve gotten used to the fact that he needs to control everything, I don’t think that’s why he’s waiting for me at the elevator door. Guillermo is far from being a friendly man, but with me, he always has a mischievous smile, as if he can barely keep his hands off me. Now, however, even looking at me, his expression is intense.

I know there are more people in the reception room, but ignoring everyone, I lift my face, offering myself for a kiss.

He wraps an arm around my waist and kisses me briefly.

"Let’s go inside."

"Hi, Melissa," I say to my friend, who’s smiling like an idiot. I know it’s probably because of the little romantic scene we just acted out. If I weren’t so upset about the situation, I might be able to smile back.

"Good afternoon," I greet, without looking at the rest of the people present, even though one of them is that unfortunate jealous woman.

As soon as he closes the door, he explains.

"We’re just waiting for Levi," he says, referring to the lawyer who represented me the day I was detained. "Seems like he’s stuck in traffic and will be a few minutes late. Are you sure you want to be here?"

"Yes."

"Levi said he discovered a few more things about Kathleen but prefers to wait for the meeting."

"She’s bad for me. Knowing she set me up, besides…"

"Besides?"

I sigh, tired.

"I don’t like false accusations, but I think it was her who removed the wet floor sign."

"Joaquín thinks so too, but why are you so sure?"

"First, because I remember the sign when we arrived that day, and I’m certain it wasn’t there when I left."

"And what else?"

"We had a sort of… huh… confrontation in the elevator, and she asked me how my head was doing."

"Why didn’t you tell me that?" He looks genuinely upset.

"Because I’m not a baby. Even though I’m short, I never got hit at school. I knew how to stomp on someone’s foot really well."

To my relief, his face relaxes.

"I’d pay good money to have seen you fight as a child."

"Hey, I’m not violent. It was just once. The boy tried to swap my lunch for his because he wanted the banana cake that Mom Heloísa made for me."

He laughs.

"Come here."

He’s sitting on the edge of the table and pulls me between his legs.

"Did she threaten you?"

"Not physically, but you know that intuition when someone could, they would hurt you?"

"You should have told me."

I don’t respond because I don’t want to fight.

"Anyway, from today on, you’ll have a bodyguard taking care of your protection."

"Why?"

"Several reasons. The press, mostly, and also because my family is well-known. Being my girlfriend, you become a target. I’m sorry about that."

Even though we’ve assumed that we’re together, he’s never said outright that he’s my boyfriend, and even if that makes me feel silly, I loved hearing it.

"Not going to protest?"

"Against a bodyguard? No."

"So gentle. What’s going through your head?"

"That I don’t want to wake up from this dream."