CHAPTER EIGHT

About two hours and many sore muscles later, the trio collapsed on the floorboards of the living room, underneath a rather small but very effective ceiling fan.

“Now that that’s over,” Gabriele uttered, barely audible, “we can go over the legal process of this unholy cohabitation.”

“Ugh…” Santiago groaned. “Keep your legal practices to the side, Gabriele. I’m famished enough to eat a horse.”

“Unfortunately, all I have here are sandwiches,” she mumbled unapologetically. “Without horse meat, of course. Lola? You good?”

Lola’s response was a weak thumbs-up.

“Alright. Let’s have something to eat before starvation gets the better of us. I’ll get the sandwiches, Santiago’ll handle lemonade, and Lola… just hang in there or something.”

Several sandwiches later, the three adults sat cross-legged on the floor, with Santiago and Lola still sipping their lemonade while Gabriele held a black file in her hands.

“The documents within this file clarify the nature of this coexistence,” she began with a piercing stare from her bluish-gray eyes. “It also confirms that only the persons gathered here know about the truth concerning this agreement. It’s nothing but a lie, a sham, and a deceptive subterfuge to dissuade the public.”

Santiago and Lola glanced at themselves. “Uh, sis? When you put it like that—.”

“Now to the terms and conditions,” she flipped the file open. “There will be no feelings attached. Neither would there be justifiable acts of jealousy or envy. No one is bound to the other in actuality, so you can have your actual partners over, provided that they are aware of and agree with the detailed instructions concerning the arrangement. You are to utilize separate bedrooms during the course of this pact. Sexual activities with each other are highly inappropriate and should be avoided at all costs, regarding the—.”

“Gabriele.” Santiago sounded firm and out of patience. “Forgive me for interrupting your reading of the modernized Ten Commandments, but this wasn’t why I asked you to come. You’re here to bear witness to the fact that Lola and I live in the same house, just so the tabloids can shut up. Save the lawyering shit for an actual lawsuit; that’s why you’re the company’s attorney.”

“Hmm. I see.” Gabriele closed the file and flung it to one side, leaning forward and continuing her piercing gaze. “Oh, I didn't mean any of that. You two are grown-ass adults, you can do whatever you want. But… maybe it was my own way of reminding you guys that your actions led you here, and you should try to be more deliberate in your decisions in the future so that you don’t end up in sticky situations like this. But, oh well. What do I know?”

She gave a bright smile and got to her feet, snatching her bag from one of the sofas as she stormed out. “See you suckers later.”

Lola gave Santiago a stern look and muttered, “She’s upset,” before getting up and chasing after her. Santiago rolled his eyes as he rose to his feet, unwilling to succumb to his sister’s theatrics.

“What I need is a bath,” he said to himself. “A hot bath, actually. Screw the weather.”

Forty-five minutes later, Santiago sits waist-deep in the indoor pool, cooling off after a scalding hot shower. The spacious, tiled room echoed even the smallest drops of water hitting against the surface of the pool, giving Santiago an idea that made him smile. He released a whistle—slow and shrill at first, then with added depth and melody afterward. At intervals, he stopped abruptly, allowing the sound to bounce off the walls before he continued in another pitch, creating an oddly soothing symphony that surprised even him.

“You didn’t tell me you were a natural composer.”

Santiago froze for a second, only regaining his composure when the sudden voice registered in his head.

“Sneaking up on me isn’t always the best idea, muñequita,” he says, although his voice is void of his usual playful tone.

“Oh? Don’t tell me the big bad Morales was scared.”

He chuckled; another unfriendly sound. “You’d be surprised to know the things fear can make a man do. How it’s now a part of his every waking moment.”

“Huh.” Lola’s brows knitted together at his words. Then she walked to the other end of the wide, rectangular pool and began to strip. Down to her dark underwear, she executes the perfect flip on the diving board, breaking the surface of the blue-tinted water with ease.

“A woman of many talents,” Santiago remarked, his eyes never leaving her. “I wonder what else you must be hiding from me.”

She laughed as she glided across the surface of the pool with a seamless backstroke. “Maybe you’ll get to know soon enough. At least you and your sister agree on my many talents.”

He exhaled sharply. “How’s she?”

“Doing good, I hope. She wasn’t as upset as I thought before she left. But she genuinely doesn’t want us to get into any more trouble. Things are bad as they already are.”

“Are they?”

Lola stopped swimming and raised an eyebrow. “Well, yeah! For me, at least. You’re not the one who’d get chased down the street for absolutely no reason.”

Santiago shook his head with a grin. “You have no idea how many times I’ve done that. You’d pull a hamstring in my shoes.”

“You’d be surprised at how strong I actually am,” Lola quickly replied. “Now, about that melody you were whistling. Where did it come from? I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything like that before.”

Santiago kept a bright face, but Lola could tell, just from how he hesitated to reply, that it wasn’t a topic he was eager to talk about.

“It’s from an old classical,” he finally answered as he slapped his hand across the surface of the water. “I can’t remember the name of the piece, but I can recall the composer. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. It wasn’t always something I was fond of, but during my days in the army, the tune found me and kept me company. Sort of.”

Lola turned to him slowly with wide eyes. “You were in the army?!”