Chapter Eight

August 19th – Barcelona, Spain

Yesterday had all happened so quickly, but like he had promised, Leo had secured me a job, working for none other than FC Barcelona itself.

It wasn’t like I was going to be a footballer or anything. The idea of that was laughable.

Instead, he had secured me a place, after talking with many familiar faces, as a translator for the club since I was fluent in both Spanish and English. I was also going to try and pick up some Catalan along the way. I still had a few weeks before I started, but
that meant the terms of my visa were settled.

I sighed as I looked at my empty glass. I picked it up, leaving the safety of my room. I had barely refilled it when Leo popped out of his own room, and walked over.

“Why have you been hiding away?” he asked, casually resting against the counter. “I haven’t been,” I denied quickly. I was still so confused about where we stood. Did he think we were dating? There was never an official exchange about that. We had only established that we had kissed, and more than once. I was unable to look at him, and turned to return to my room. He immediately followed, “Lia, stop running away. Lia, stop now.”

I shot him a look over my shoulder, “I’m not a dog.” Before I could close my door, be jammed his foot in, and managed to follow me in.

I set my drink on the nightstand, wishing he hadn’t gotten in.

“Please, tell me what’s going on,” he begged. I took a deep breath, debating if the truth was the best option or not. Finally, I was able to speak, “I’m scared.” He frowned as I sat on the bed, running a hand through my already messy hair. He hesitated before coming to sit beside me. “Scared? What are you scared of?” he questioned softly.

“Us, Leo! What’s going on between us? It’s so sudden, and so intense,” I expelled at last.

“Lia, I’ve wanted to do that for years. I didn’t want someone like you, I wanted only you. But you were with Carlos! I didn’t know you were unhappy,” Leo exclaimed, his dark eyes burning with raw emotion. I looked away, “You never…I mean, there were times I thought…” “And I was scared to try and ask because I didn’t want to lose you – I couldn’t let you go, so if it meant us only ever being friends I was willing to accept that.”

“I thought the long distance would never work until Antonella. But by that time, I realized it wasn’t going to happen, and I’d be stuck with…with Carlos,” I murmured.

Tears brimmed up as I unwillingly imagined what that life would have amounted to – only unhappiness.

“Please, can we give this a chance?” Leo asked softly. I glanced at him, “What are we giving a chance?” “You and me, dating – I want to prove to you that there are people better than Carlos. I want to spoil you like you deserve, because Carlos didn’t deserve you,” he said vehemently.

With that he leaned forward, pressing his lips to mine. With a push I fell back, my hands fisting in his shirt as the kiss grew deeper. My hand was moving toward his hair when there was a knock on the door.

Leo rolled off, sighing in frustration, “Of all times?”

I sighed, but couldn’t help but laugh a little as Gerard yelled, “Leo, are you here? Do you have any more of that bright yellow
macaroni left? Leo?”

I rolled to the side, intending to get up when – bam! I laughed as I hit the ground, luckily not so hard as to get hurt.

Leo was looking over the side in seconds, worried, but I waved aside his concern, pulling myself to my feet. As I stood there laughing like that for the first time in years, three familiar faces appeared in the door. Gerard looked between us, a familiar mischievous look appearing in his eyes. “Everything alright here?” he questioned. I nodded, “I rolled off the bed!” The ‘Moc Moc’ trio, as Leo had called them (apparently because of some joke between the three) burst out laughing. Leo joined as well, finally convinced I was fine.

“Well, I’m raiding your fridge,” Gerard announced still chuckling. At last only Leo and I remained in the room. “I’m sorry…” he began, but I cut him off with a kiss. “I haven’t laughed like this in…well in years,” I said, smiling at him before grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the room.


August 20th – Barcelona, Spain

I smiled as I watched Felipa place a plastic crown on Víctor’s head, the fake jewels shining dully. He already wore a purple feather boa around his neck, and clip on earrings. My daughter was dressed up in a pink tutu and wore a tiara. They looked comical as they had their tea party.

I sat on the sofa, trying to read the paper, but was constantly distracted by the ridiculous game of dress up that had resulted from a seemingly innocent tea party.

“Mamá, play with us!” Felipa called, jumping up.

I was unable to resist her adorable smile, and slid to the floor to sit with them at the coffee table. Víctor smiled, and placed the boa around my neck, and then handed me one of the various wands that Felipa owned. My daughter had one of their own, which she waved around happily.

“Felipa, why don’t you tell Mamá what you want to do tonight,” the keeper encouraged. She spun to face me, “I want to get the new Señor Baldy jersey!” she exclaimed, jumping. I blushed, “Felipa, not when he’s here.” She ignored my reminder, and returned to bouncing around happily. Luckily, the man in question seemed nonplussed about the affectionate nickname, and pretended to shine his head. I blushed whilst laughing, unable to contain it at the ridiculous and overdramatic sight.

“You don’t mind? I feel like you going to one of the Barça Botigas is dangerous,” I grinned. He shrugged, “I’ll go like this. No one will guess it’s me.”

I giggled at the thought of him going out in public with the crown and earrings. “I’ll give you the boa back for the occasion,” I grinned. “Oh, how generous,” he teased. Felipa went flying past, pretending to fly. “Why is she so energetic?” he questioned. “She convinced me to bake cookies,” I admitted. His eyes brightened, “You have cookies?” He jumped up, and disappeared into the kitchen. I shook my head in disbelief.

He reappeared, cookies in hand. “These are delicious,” he grinned, dropping down next to me. He offered me one, which I took.

“So how about we go to the Botiga, and then dinner,” Víctor suggested. I agreed, smiling at him. I was finally overcoming my complete disbelief, and was growing progressively more comfortable with the relationship.

Felipa returned, and her eyes lit up upon seeing the cookies. She charged forward to get one.

The footballer, however, jumped up. “Hey, these are mine! You had some earlier!” he exclaimed. “I want more! Vicki, give me!” she pouted. “Manners,” I chided. “Please,” she added in afterthought from my comment. He shook his head, pouting in return, “I want my cookies.”

“Well, I want them too,” she said, looking up at him with large eyes.

“No, anything but that,” Víctor exclaimed, and went running off. Felipa followed closely, intent on getting the sweets. I watched as he ran around, trying to eat at the same time. At last the cookies were eaten, and he swung around unexpectedly, swooping my daughter into his arms. She squealed, then fell silent. “The cookies are gone,” she stated. He nodded, grinning, “I ate them all.” “Meanie,” she pouted, but soon was giggling again as the goalie tickled her.