CHAPTER ELEVEN

“You look blue, señorita.”

Lola peeled her eyes away from the beautiful pattern of clouds outside her window and turned to the flight attendant who’d just spoken to her. Her beauty was mesmerizing, emphasized by her deep brown eyes, tanned oval face, and long, wavy hair. Her woody-brown uniform—which looked modest enough—did nothing to hide her tall, perfectly proportioned body. Lola was star-struck by her smile, wondering how many people had been left demobilized by her radiance.

“Breathe, señorita,” she advised kindly. “It’s okay if it’s your first time. The pilots are one of the best around, and the plane is in excellent condition. You’re in safe hands.”

Truth be told, Lola wasn’t even scared. Though it was her first time traveling in a plane of absurdly high luxurious standards, it wasn’t her first time flying. But she said nothing to the gorgeous flight attendant, deciding to offer a simple nod of understanding instead.

“In the meantime, can I bring you something to help you relax? Some wine, perhaps?”

Again, Lola’s response was a brief nod.

The flight attendant smiled sweetly. “Very well. I have that brought right up. Señor Morales, would you—?”

“I’m good, Isabella,” Santiago replied briskly, barely looking up from the book he’d delved into. “Gracias.”

“Very well, señor.”

As the attendant, Isabella, walked away gracefully, Lola gave Santiago a questioning gaze. She’d assumed he’d be all over Isabella, given his audacious reputation for such things. Lola wouldn’t have been surprised at all—honestly, she would’ve done the same if she were a man. So seeing him quite focused on his book was rather puzzling.

“She’s gay,” Santiago disclosed suddenly, his eyes still drilling into the book in his hands.

Lola stayed silent for a moment, frowning as the piece of information rattled around in her head. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me the first time,” Santiago sounded indifferent, almost curt. “I know you’re probably wondering how many times I must’ve hit on her, given how lovely she looks and all. But I can categorically state that Isabella Mercedes is officially into women.”

Lola shook her head. She had so many questions. “Mercedes?”

Santiago nodded, still fixed on his book. “Yup. I don’t know if that’s her real name, and I couldn’t care less.”

Lola contemplated for a second, then raised an eyebrow. “You know her name—her full name, that is—and, for some reason, her sexual orientation. That’s pretty deep information for someone you barely even looked at.”

Santiago sighed, finally dropping his book and leaning forward. “Usually, the way this works is that airlines can ‘lend’ their hostesses to individuals who can afford them, passing on the information on their CV, in the process, to their temporary employers. That’s how I knew her full name.”

“I see. That's… enlightening. But I can’t imagine why her CV would carry such sensitive information about her sexuality. Even if her bosses at the airline knew, why would they tell you?”

Santiago sat back, his face slightly smug. “Oh, she told me that bit herself. While lying in my bed, that is.”

Lola also leaned back, crossing her arms with a taunt jawline. “So you did hit on her.”

“What can I say?” Santiago asked with a shrug. “I guess she craved a different flavor at the time. But it was strictly a one-time thing.”

“It’s in your nature, hotshot. No need to offer any explanations or apologies.”

“Oh, I wasn’t apologizing. As for the explanation, that’s pretty much it. Thankfully, we don’t have to talk about this anymore ‘cause we’ve arrived.”

Lola’s eyes met with the same view of thick clouds when she peered through her window, “Arrived where, exactly?”

As if on cue, the pilot’s voice blared through the speakers, unintentionally answering Lola’s question in clear, quick Spanish.

“This is your captain speaking. Welcome to the beautiful city of Lisbon. It’s past 2pm in the afternoon, and the temperature is a very warm thirty-five degrees. On behalf of the flight crew, we truly hope you’ve enjoyed your trip. Though it’s only half of it.” He ended with a chuckle as the speakers went mute.

Lola blinked repeatedly, then she faced Santiago with shock creased on her face. “Lisbon? We’re in Portugal?!”

Santiago’s response was a sly smile as he resumed reading his book.

Half an hour later, Lola’s wide eyes soaked up as much as they could as Santiago drove through the city. Though the sun was as high as back in Madrid, it lacked the same scorching intensity. Towering skyscrapers sparkled like enormous diamonds against the sunlight, generously contributing to the dazzling metropolitan aesthetic. Despite bustling with tourists, the sidewalks were calm and orderly. Lisbon had never been a city on Lola’s to-visit list, and now she internally scolded herself for not including it sooner.

“Pretty neat, huh?” Santiago asked, his voice devoid of any form of excitement.

Lola turned to him in a slow, dramatic fashion. “Don’t you dare sound like that.”

Santiago frowned, his eyes still fixed on the road. “Like what?”

“Like that!” Lola immediately replied with her finger stabbed at him. “That casual tone! Like all of this is normal!”

“Then maybe you should tell me what isn’t. ‘Cause now you’re making it sound like I’ve abducted you.”

Lola flailed her arms. “I could as well put it like that! ‘Cause why the hell would you make me believe we’re going shopping only to fly me to another country?!”

Santiago glanced at her briefly with a puzzled expression. “You mean no one has done this with you before? What sort of relationships were you in?”

Lola’s mouth opened as she started to speak. Then she changed her mind and puckered her lips instead. “We shall not talk about that. So far, you’ve done everything but reveal what we’re really here for.”

“Patience, munéquita,” Santiago cooed. “I called in a favour from a friend sometime last week and I wanted to personally make sure everything was perfect.”

“Oh? Does this have something to do with the ‘missing ingredient’ you mentioned earlier?”

Santiago’s smile was heavily mischievous. “You’ll see.”

Lola’s sense of clarity still bore a few holes, but she decided to shove her questions aside. Especially when Santiago’s ink-black Bentley slowed to a halt in the parking lot of the largest jewelry store she’d ever seen. All of a sudden, the mysterious “missing ingredient” wasn’t so mysterious anymore; at least, she had a vague idea of what it might be.

Santiago caught the look in her eyes and smirked as he unlocked the doors. “Come on, Lola. In we go.”

The pair was met at the entrance by large, hefty men in black suits and dark shades, who led them away from the main building and to a smaller annex behind. Once inside the rectangular structure, Lola watched in awe as they crossed a wide aisle flanked by several glass compartments on both sides, each carrying an exquisite piece of jewelry. She reckoned the building must’ve served as a warehouse or a museum of sorts. Whatever the case was, judging from the number of cameras attached to the ceiling, Lola knew the value of the precious items within the compartments was no joke.

Within two minutes, they’d reached an orange door at the opposite end of the large room. Their quiet escorts took positions at both sides of the entrance, allowing Santiago to head through the door first. When Lola followed behind, she met the view of a tidy, spacious office with large square windows. Behind the desk to her right, a man with pale skin in a black silk shirt swiped aggressively at the screen of a tablet with one hand, while picking off sushi from a small tray with the other.

“I appreciate the security detail, José,” Santiago began as he casually sank into one of the seats in front of the desk. “Even though your guys looked like they were escorting me into the White House.”

The man cracked a wide smile as he dropped his tablet and laced his fingers on the table. “You’re as important a guest as the president himself, Santi. And I pay them good money for their work. Of course, they’d treat you as a VIP. You and the lady, that is.”

He turned to Lola, still wearing a grin full of teeth. His straight, black hair—which stood out against his bleached complexion—seemed more like a wig with the way it perched on his head. And the golden glow his eyes gave—which were clearly contact lenses—didn’t help his already creepy appearance. By the time Lola shook his cold hand, she decided he was either a vampire or suffering from some terminal illness.

“I was surprised when I got your message,” José began as Lola settled into the chair beside Santiago. “The great Santiago Morales is paying a visit to little old me. I must be dreaming.”

“Don’t patronize me, José. You’ve not been doing so bad yourself. Last I heard, you delivered a crown piece to the royal family in Cambodia. That’s a couple of millions richer than you already were.”

Jose shrugged his thin shoulders. “What can I say? When you’re good at what you do, sometimes all you have to do is sit back and watch your reputation open doors from far and wide.”

“That’s something we can both agree on,” Santiago confirmed. “Now, I suppose we can get down to business.”

“Oh? So soon?” José asked in a playful tone as he extracted a flat box from beneath his desk. “I thought we were just catching up, old friend. You know it’s been ages.”

Santiago blew out his cheeks rather impatiently. “Yes, yes. I’m aware of that. And we can still talk over a bottle of wine one of these days. But today’s visit is strictly professional and we’re rather short on time.”

“Of course. I understand.”

José still kept his awkward smile on as he opened the burgundy-colored box and rotated it so the contents faced his guests. While Santiago slid it closer, grinning with satisfaction, Lola simply stared with wide eyes.

“We came all this way… for a necklace and a ring?”

José laughed in disbelief. “Not just any necklace and ring, future Mrs. Morales. Your fiancé here burdened me with the task of making the rarest design I’ve ever done. Coupled with the purest compositions of silver and diamonds, those items are easily worth hundreds of millions of euros. Each.”

Lola’s gaze lingered on the open box, then she turned to Santiago, who regarded her with a smile and a wink.

“The missing ingredient,” he reminded her. He rose to his feet, closing the box swiftly. “My accountant will stay in touch, José. Expect the payment within the next hour. Now that we have what we came for, we have a party to crash.”