The Spanish Love Deception

Chapter 26

“Whoa,” came from the door. It was Rosie’s voice.

Good. I needed someone I trusted to retrieve me from this madness I had gotten myself into and register me into the

closest mental facility. I couldn’t be trusted to … adult properly.

“Is everything okay, Lina?”

Nope.

Nothing about what I had just done was okay.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait.” Rosie shoved her hand between us, making the universal sign to hold your horses. “You told

your mom what?”

Gobbling down the rest of my pastrami panini, I shot her a look. “You gnow whatf I saifd,” I told her, not caring that my

mouth was still full.

“I just want to hear that last part again.” Rosie leaned back on her chair, her emerald eyes wide with shock. “You know

what? How about you start from the beginning again? I must be missing something because this whole thing sounds a

little too much, even for you.”

Narrowing my eyes at her, I gave her a fake, toothy smile that I was sure showcased some of the contents of my

lunch.

I didn’t care that anybody in the coworking space on the fifteenth floor, where we were having lunch, could see me. At

this time, there weren’t many people left on this floor anyway. Leave it to a company in New York City to dedicate this

much space—and money because the decor was right out of hipsterland—to a coworking and shared space for a

bunch of workaholics who didn’t make use of it outside of their lunch break. No more than a couple of tables to my

right were occupied by now—the ones closest to the impressive floor-to-ceiling windows, of course.

“Don’t look at me like that.” My friend pouted across from me. “And please, I love you, but that’s not a nice look. I can

see some … lettuce hanging out of your mouth.” Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

I rolled my eyes, chewing and finally washing down my mouthful.

Contrary to what I had hoped, food had done nothing to appease my mood. This pounding ball of anxiety was still

asking to be fed. “I should have ordered a second panini.” On any other day, I would have. But the wedding would be

in no time, and I was trying to watch what I ate.

“Yes, and something else you should have done? Told me about all of this before.” Her voice was soft, just how all

things Rosie were, but the weight behind those words prickled at my skin all the same. “You know, like from the

moment you decided to make up a boyfriend.”

I deserved it. I had known Rosie would—sweetly—kick my ass as soon as she found out that I had kept from her all

that me lying to my family about being in a relationship business.

“I’m sorry.” I reached my hand out across the table, taking hers. “I’m so sorry, Rosalyn Graham. I should never have

kept this from you.”

“No, you shouldn’t have done that.” She pouted some more.

“In my defense, I was going to tell you on Monday, but we were interrupted by you know who.” I wouldn’t say his name

out loud, as he often appeared out of thin air when I did. I squeezed her hand. “To make it up to you, I will ask my

abuela to light a few candles to one of her saints, so you are rewarded with many children.”

Rosie sighed, pretending to think about it for a moment. “Fine, I accept your apology.” She squeezed back. “But

instead of children, I’d much rather get introduced to one of your cousins maybe?”

I reared back, shock etched on my face. “One of my what?”

As I watched the light blush rise in her cheeks, my surprise only grew when she said, “The one who surfs and has a

Belgian shepherd? He is kind of dreamy.”

“Dreamy?” None of my savage cousins could ever be considered dreamy.

Rosie’s cheeks turned a darker shade of red.

How the hell is my friend acquainted with one of the members of the Martín clan? Unless …

“Lucas?” I sputtered, immediately remembering that I had shown her a few of his Instagram stories. But it had all been

because of Taco, his dog. Not because of him. “Lucas, the one with the buzzed head?”

My friend nodded casually, shrugging her shoulders.

“You are too good for Lucas,” I hissed. “I’ll let you take part in the kidnapping of his dog though. Taco is also too good

for him.”

“Taco.” Rosie giggled. “That’s such an adorable name.”

“Rosie, no.” I retrieved my hand and reached for my bottle of water. “No.”

“No, what?” Her smile was still there. Hanging on to her lips as she thought of my cousin, I supposed, in ways that—

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