“Now, tell me, how’s he like? Is he one of those domineering matured rich men?” Lori giggled in the other line. 

“Nah, he is young. Just three years older than you. He looked exhausted and disheveled by the way.” Isra smirked.

“Whoah! Really? He's still 30?” Lori asked laughing at her description of him, “Hey. but Georgi said otherwise.”

“Anything with a dick sticking out is good for Georgi.” Isra smirked at the mention of their researcher.

Lori laughed hard contagious enough to drive Isra to a giggle.

“C’mon, tell me more!” Lori added.

“What else do you want to know? That he invests in stock market. That he graduated Fine Arts but was forced into the family business. He lives in Madrid. He loves soccer. He is a fan of Tolstoy and Van Gogh. And he likes Clint Eastwood movies.” Isra smirked and stretched herself across the bed. “And he loves the color green.”

“Aha! At least you are making progress here. But that’s not what I mean... Did you go out? And end up kissing?”

“What? No! Why would we do that?” Isra reacted with distaste, sending Lori cackling through her breath.

“Why not? He is single and you are. And you haven’t gotten laid in 7 years. And who would pass a woman who look like Irina Shaykh with Kim K’s lips and Jlo’s body, tell me! I bet he was swooning all the time looking at you.”

“Really, Lori? Don’t play cupid on me.” Isra rolled her eyes. “Okey, enough about me. When are you coming here?”

Lori laughed sarcastically, “You’re just 40, Iz, for heaven’s sake! You’re talking like you’re 60 or something. Even people that age would still wish to meet someone to spend the remaining days of their life with. Trust me. Before its too late, you gotta find someone. One day, you’d wish you were younger to give love a chance. Take it from someone who saw lonely people and lived with one.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Isra shook her head as she stood from the bed resisting the urge to discourse. Lori had no idea what she went through since she hasn’t told any living soul except Tom and Eammon.

She knew about Lori’s desperate 76-year-old aunt whom Lori had to hook up with men from Tinder. Lori’s experience at the nursing home must have affected her deeply to pressure herself to catch up the marriage wagon and now, pressuring her as well.

“Just tell me when are you coming? Or do I have to do this whole project alone?  What about Sid, can she come?”

There was a long pause, as Lori sighed sharply, “Well, you know the Senator changes her mind every minute so we have to shoot a different story line all over again. Carl said he will quit if this one’s not done.” She added, “and hey, Siddi has started filming for our client in Seattle.

“Hmm...really? I thought Sid said it was cancelled.” Isra sighed. “About Anderson, as long as it’s stated in the contract, then we have to do it.”

Lori sighed, “Yes, mam.”

“By the way, someone's been messaging me about meeting up at the bar, thinking I was you. Is there something you’d been keeping from me, my friend?” Lori teased.

“Aah, those guys. They’re yours...Prospect clients. Maybe prospect boyfriends for you too. And please don’t tell them where I am staying.”

Lori chuckled, “Yay! You’re the best!Of course, I’m team Lucas!"

*****

“Buenos dias, hijo, the food is ready. Is your guest here? Just let us know when we need to serve.” Pablo’s wife Carmen walked into the spacious foyer where Lucas sat on an antique gold and black embossed velvet wingback chair in the corner. Her tanned wrinkled hands folded in front of her. Lucas looked up from his phone and smiled at her “Don’t worry, Tia, I’ll call tia Merced. You go and rest now. You shouldn’t be working too much, eh.”

The chubby lady walked to his side and patted him lightly on the shoulder, “This is my exercise. I will die early if I sit down all day. You should come often if you want me and Pablo live longer.” She chuckled as she kissed the top of his head before disappearing behind the carpeted stairways.

Carmen and Pablo didn’t change much. At 77, their enthusiasm and energy matches their warmth. They were his second parents when his own were too busy growing their wealth. They took care of all of them along with their five children, including his own cousins Al and Marco.

The sound of a screeching tire on the driveway behind the house alerted Lucas. It should be her, he thought. He stood up and checked his reflection on the glass windows. He let his hair hang loosely this time and wore his favorite oud cologne. He looked confident in his tawny Bermuda shorts that matched with a cream-colored button-down shirt and a pair of leather loafers.

 He saw Isra coming out of the car, raking her long hair away from her face as she locked the door with her other hand. Breathtaking! He wished he was wearing sunglasses so he could hide the awe in his eyes. Even a very casual look looked elegant on her. A pair of Chucks and a fitted faded tattered jeans that hugged her wide hips and ample bottoms, and an ash-grey slightly fitted scoop-neck shirt with sleeves rolled up to her elbows, made her look like a model straight out of a magazine. Andrea was a supermodel but she didn't possess the same class and sophistication as Isra. Andrea was skinny at 5'11 with blonde hair. Isra had exceptionally nice toned curves, and maybe 5" shorter but everything looked perfect about her. 

“Hi!” Isra flushed as soon as she saw him.

“Hi, good morning. I hope you didn’t find it hard to get here. You should’ve allowed me to pick you up.” Lucas smiled as he shook her hand.

“Thank you but I also wanted to explore the place. There’s so much to see here so I rented a car.” She told him as they walked towards the massive house.

“This way, please.” Lucas gestured a hand leading to the arched hallway on the side of the house facing a large garden. “I hope you could share a brunch with me before I tour you around.” He added, as they walk along the length of the hallway lined with a manicured bushes and pots of jasmine and roses.

Isra looked to her sides in awe at the medieval Moorish-inspired courtyard with a large pool, with a fountain sitting in the middle of it. A trellis of pink and yellow trumpets and fuchsia bougainvillea vines snaked their way from both ends of the garden stopping at an intricately carved pillars connected to the open hallway.

His hand unwillingly touches the back of her waist as he led her into a passage and it jolted her like he had an electric current on the tip of his fingers.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to surprise you.” He mumbled coyly, blushing at her sudden reaction.

“No problem. I’m just very jerky, that’s all.” She mumbled back as she lowered her gaze.

The passage led to a well- lit circular- shaped spacious foyer that was shaped like it used to be a Medieval tower. The long glass arched windows on both sides almost kissed the ceiling where a gigantic bronze baroque chandelier was hanging at the center. The walls were white marble, lined with embossed baroque tiles seamlessly stretching horizontally above the rim of the door entrance which was left half- open, letting the scent of fresh- cut grass and floral notes of gardenia, roses and orange blossoms waft along with the wind from outside.

She picked a seat from one of the opulent armchairs at the corner as Lucas spoke to someone on the intercom hidden behind the bifurcated stair facing the entrance, before he joined her. 

A minute later one of Carmen’s daughters appeared from behind the stairs, to the surprise of Lucas. Her eyes squinted as she pushed a trolley of silverwares and linen- covered ceramics towards them. Isra flashed a smile but the woman only returned a forced smirk.

“Isra, I'd like you to meet Paloma. She’s an art curator in London.” Lucas gestured at the same time Isra stood up stretching a hand to Paloma.

“Pleased to meet you.” Isra said.

Paloma stared at her for long seconds before she took her hand, sternly.

“Are you alright, Pal?” Lucas asked but she just nodded quietly and walked away.

Lucas shifted his gaze to Isra who seemed concerned. “She’s a very close friend and or should I say, sister from different parents." he said as he straightened on his seat. "We grew up together. Actually, they are our family outside the bloodline. They are the most loyal of people. That’s why my father made sure they live the best out of life.”

Isra smiled coyly.  She wasn't sure if she wanted to know the rest of his life story, but she felt something strange in the woman’s eyes. Her instincts could tell that she was more than just a close friend. She sensed some jealousy the way she was staring and gripping her hand. There was a rage of fury and frustration.

Lucas poured her and himself a cup of coffee as she helped him serve chorizo corn cakes and frisuelos filled with custard on their plates. “She was away for five years. Like no contact whatsoever. We thought she had a fugue or something.” He chuckled.

Isra hummed in response."Oh... fugue. Then it must be serious." There was also something unsettling in Lucas eyes and his movements seemed to be on the edge. "She must've went through something. A hearbreak?” She asked. Unlike her, Paloma had a family. Disappearing for 5 years and avoiding communication must be a response to something that must have hurt her deeply.