‘I’m a carnival vegan; I told you.’
‘A carnival non-carnivore?’
Suppressing a nervous laugh, she made to pick up her margarita just as the waiter placed a basket of corn cobs down in her path. ‘Oh, shoot!’ Her drink went flying. A gasp echoed around the table as the liquid pooled and settled in a slushy wet splodge on her shirt, rendering the left side of the white cotton totally see-through, right down to her blue lacy bra. Groaning, she went for the napkins just as Gabriel did.
‘You’re not having much luck with your drinks today,’ he quipped, stopping just short of mopping her breast. For a second he looked more horrified than she did, but somehow, for reasons she couldn’t explain other than her general mortification in this moment, she burst out laughing until the whole table was killing themselves.
‘It’s just a shirt!’ Maria giggled, standing up so Anna could wheel her chair past. ‘We’ve all seen worse.’
Gabriel stood up too, dropping the cloth napkin. He made as though he was about to help with her wheelchair, but she expertly manoeuvred herself past, throwing him a look to say, thanks anyway. She wasn’t laughing any more by the time she reached the bathroom. Her shirt was soaked. Somehow she’d have to do her best to forget it, though; fun was on the agenda, and nothing was going to ruin this rare night out.
It was sweet that he still wanted to help her out after all this time, like he used to do at school in the months after her accident, back when she’d still been trying to work out how on earth she’d get through this thing called life when she couldn’t even walk. He seemed to see she had worked it out by now but, back at the table, when his arm brushed hers again reaching for his own drink, she wasn’t so quick to move away. At one point, she couldn’t stop her fingers from reaching out to the corner of his mouth and wiping a tiny bit of red sauce away. He thanked her, chocolate eyes shining in the low lights, and in her mind he kissed her again, as he had done in her dream, as though it was just the two of them and they were on a date.
They’d never been on a date in real life. And you never will, she reminded herself. Friends don’t date!
Somehow the atmosphere in the restaurant made her feel tipsy without having drunk much at all. Everyone in her small team seemed to be enjoying this reprieve from the stresses of the past week, and she allowed the sudden rush of pride that consumed her and almost brought a tear to her eye. OK, maybe she had drunk a little more than she’d thought.
‘What are you thinking?’ Gabriel whispered suddenly in her ear, causing a flurry of sparks to travel from her earlobe through to her belly. Her heart thundered like a racehorse on course to the moon as she concentrated on the heat radiating from his body in the small, bustling, candlelit space. Why was her throat constricting—because she hadn’t been this close to him physically in years? Oh, gosh, did he feel it too—this growing whatever-it-was that she could almost reach out and grab from the air between them?
She still hadn’t spoken. ‘I was thinking how proud I am of everyone here,’ she told him, putting down her margarita. No more drinks for her.
‘And yourself, I hope.’ He smiled softly. ‘You should also be proud of yourself, Ana.’
He said it so sincerely that the tears really did threaten to fall this time. She released a breath, nodding slowly, focusing back on the flickering candle flame so as not to reveal how his proximity was making her feel. It was more than his good looks, it was the way he looked at her—as though he was taking in every single, miniscule detail, adding it to some sort of mental checklist, memorising ways to please her, help her or make her laugh.
Gabriel had always done this, she realised now. She’d just usually been annoyed by it more than flattered, growing up. She hadn’t wanted to be noticed for a long time, in case all people saw was her disability.
The weight of his forearm touching hers as he leaned in to read the dessert menu, the physical nature of him, his presence, the way he looked, his skin, the way he smelled and his touch... Oh, boy. Neither of them had time for this...inconvenient attraction.
‘Ana?’
‘Yes?’ She looked up, only to find her whole team, and the waiter, were looking at her expectantly. She cleared her throat, realising the scratch of the waiter’s pen on his pad, his low baritone explaining the difference between the chocolate-covered deep-fried specials and the clink of cutlery and glasses had all gone completely over her head. She had been completely lost in Gabriel. No, no, no...this would have to stop. She would eat her dessert and leave, she decided. Her friend was...her friend. Wasn’t that what she’d told Maria? Why could she not just convince her stupid brain to believe that was all she still saw him as?
‘Um, I’ll just have the churros,’ she said quickly, hoping no one realised she hadn’t even been reading the menu.
The waiter huffed a sigh. ‘I did just explain that we don’t have any churros left, ma’am.’
She lowered her head and muttered that she’d have the sorbet. They had to have that, right?
Gabriel was smiling softly beside her. To her surprise, he reached out to squeeze her hand lightly. ‘You’re tired, huh?’ he said now. ‘I’m exhausted too. Big week.’
Ana blushed so deeply, she could feel it. How embarrassing that he thought she was tired when really she’d been totally distracted, completely caught up in him, that was all. Gosh, if this crush got any worse, people would start to see it...if they hadn’t already. ‘Big week,’ she agreed. ‘And thank you, by the way. I wouldn’t have as many reasons to feel so proud if you hadn’t been at my side all week. People love you.’
‘I love...that they love me,’ he said, knocking his knee to hers under the table. Their fingers entwined together over the table cloth for just a few seconds longer before he seemed to think better of it and let go. Her hand was instantly colder.
Maria was looking between them over her margarita even while she talked to Sandrine, their part-time physical therapist, and Ana forced herself to start a fresh conversation with someone else. Knowing that her gorgeous best friend believed in her dream as much as she did filled her with the kind of new-found hope for the future that had seemed somewhat impossible until now. She really could do anything. But this attraction had to be stomped out if they were to continue.
Wait a minute... Had he just been flirting with her, knocking her knee under the table, squeezing her hand?
Just then, Gabriel slid his chair back and got to his feet. Men and women, couples and friends all around the restaurant, turned from their tables as he clinked a fork to the side of his glass. Ana sat up taller, even though the sudden urge to shrink took hold. Oh no, what on earth was he going to say?
‘Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to raise a toast,’ he said. ‘To Dr Ana Mendez, who’s been working so tirelessly for so long to make this dream come true. She’s a true inspiration and I’m honoured to call her one of my friends.’
One of his...friends.
Ana sniffed, even as her stomach dropped. Of course, everyone knew they were friends; he was just seizing the chance to reiterate it. He raised his glass and everyone followed suit, clinking their glasses together, but Gabriel wasn’t done.
‘Her commitment and drive have always been nothing short of incredible, but this week... Wow...’ He trailed off a moment and fixed her with a look of such pride and admiration that Ana felt the tears start to prickle persistently behind her eyes. The six familiar faces were smiling, nodding at her and to each other, celebrating her work and achievements. Maria was looking at her with admiration too, while Sandrine nodded in silent approval, but it was Gabriel’s gaze that made the fizz begin under her skin. Yes, he’d drawn a line under their friendship, but his warmth was spreading through her, straight to her heart and on through to everywhere else. Her dream came flooding back all over again in full colour till it was all she could do not to lunge for him.
No. No, she would not let herself, or their friendship, down.
She would resist. He was a proud friend, an old friend, the best kind of friend. Quickly blinking away the tears before anyone at the table noticed, she drew a breath deep from her jittery lungs before raising her own glass. ‘Thank you,’ she said softly, feeling an unfamiliar surge of happiness mixed with helplessness take hold of her chest as their eyes met again. This was...too much.
‘I should probably get going,’ she said.
Gabriel arched his eyebrows and sat back in his chair with a sigh. ‘I should go too...’ he started, but no sooner were the words out of his mouth than Sandrine and Maria stopped him.
‘Oh no, you don’t, we’re going dancing! Bueno Tango needs your moves, Gabriel.’ Maria wiggled her shoulders. ‘Yours too, Ana.’
Maria was a little tipsy, and so was Ana, if she was honest. The last thing she needed was to steer her chair into people’s ankles on a dance floor. Not that she couldn’t ‘dance’ in it, so to speak, but the thought of making a scene, doing anything else embarrassing in front of this team of people who respected her position, didn’t sit right. Her drink was already splotched on her shirt, though thankfully her bra was no longer on display.
‘Not tonight,’ she said, throwing them an apologetic look at the same time as signalling for the bill. ‘You guys go, though. Have a great time, and keep the receipt—it’s on me.’
‘You don’t have to cover it all,’ Gabriel whispered now, a frown on his handsome face. She found herself matching his expression.
‘Yes, I do,’ she said, removing her red headband and placing it on again. Like her vision, it wasn’t entirely straight. Why on earth would he think she wouldn’t cover everything for her staff? Then she realised he probably wasn’t used to this wealthier Ana who’d made a life for herself away from her overbearing family and could actually afford to treat the people she cared about.
‘Well, it’s very generous of you,’ he said, and she shrugged. More than anything now, she just wanted to escape. If she couldn’t have him as more than a friend and colleague, she would have to leave him here as a friend and a colleague. Sliding her shiny new business credit card onto the waiter’s tray the second he approached with the bill, she turned to Gabriel.
