Some eyes touch you more than hands ever could. Esme opened her eyes that morning and he was still there, Ian.
She was not startled, she remained lying on the left side of the Korean man with his face in front of her, his leg was over hers, she took it off quickly.
The blonde paused for seconds to stare at his drawn out eyes, his thin nose down to the little dot he had at the beginning of his forehead, it had been there since this whole whirlwind had started, she readied herself to irritate him.
After all, it was his only way of showing her affection, no matter how much she denied it. She leaned her arms over his shoulder and chest with force, pushing him off the bed. Ian opened his eyes in fright, and took a deep breath, staring at her in anger.
— I was very clear when I said that you would only stay here if you were in the guest room.
He laughed, rubbing his eyes, no answer, she continued to push him away, Ian laughed and pulled away, his body reaching the edge of the huge bed, he made a cartoon bear noise, a frustrated attempt, leaned forward with both arms, grabbed her waist and pulled her tight.
They both rolled over on the bed, falling to the floor, she let out a familiar laugh in the boy's ears. And there was the good old intimacy in the look, the touch, she laughed, patting him on the shoulder, and he pinned her down with his legs, biting the tip of her nose.
Until she blinked, her eyelashes smeared with mascara from the day before, waking up. She screamed, irritated, her chest heaving in rapid breaths because their eyes are close, so close.... Close enough to see him, his soul exposed there.
— Get off me, we don't have ten years left. — His voice was shaky.
Esme closed her face, he pulled his face away but continued to play with her, his hands grabbed her wrist nailing it to the floor, she didn't move.
— Good morning to you too.
— Get off me or I'll scream. — His pale white face was red with fury.
He got off her, judging himself. How could he be there in the company of the one he knew was the most annoying, selfish, stubborn person he had ever met in his life? He huffed.
She gave him a corner look, keeping him from noticing. She stood up slowly, not at all charmed by the glare from the window right in his face, and crossed her arms.
— Ian? We just fight, even though we've been friends for years. Now you hate me, and we both know you have your reasons for that. — She ran her hands through her hair, pulling off her socks. — Why are you still here?
— I don't hate you, we fight, yes it's true, but that doesn't take away from how close and good we are! — She looked at him, he straightened his shoulders and then corrected himself. — We were.
He scratched his beard charmingly, and she stood back to back listening to his thick voice, his every word, her bare feet feeling the roughness of the carpet.
— I'm true, I just don't know what to think about you anymore.
What Esme wanted to talk about was, "What are we? Friends? Enemies who raised a peace flag? Cordial? Intimate? After all that can I go back to ignoring you and provoking you into an argument?''
It was so many questions, so many doubts, one day someone who disappeared from your life for years would come back and still show he cared about you, he didn't have a sledgehammer pose that would last long in front of Ian, because he knew her.
He didn't have the pose of being detached from Ian there either, it was just him, the good old Korean scared of the possibility of losing the most unbearable girl in the world. How to give it to her? He cleared his throat, breaking the silence.
— Well, I don't hate you. And with all this going on, don't you think we could put things aside and be real? I do care about you.
She strode forward, still with her back to him, concentrating on her image in the large mirror over the huge bedside table of creams, arranged in alphabetical order just like everything else in Esme's room, of course.
Esme rested her hand on the chair, wanting to have the power to choose the memories that stay, Ian sat on the bed looking at her through the glass, even though he had just woken up with messy hair, he still looked and smelled beautiful.
She wondered how it was possible, that smell messed with her respiratory system, and the good reason, there were several, but she couldn't explain exactly, the blonde let her hair down.
— I don't hate you either... But I know what you want here, and believe me, you won't find it just because it's Halloween.
— What are you talking about?— He narrowed his eyes, his right hand on his knee.
— You know damn well what I'm talking about, what happened last Halloween will never happen again. — She spoke firmly, turning to him. — Never again.
— Sex?— Ian frowned indignantly, and leaped out of bed, standing in front of her, gesturing with his hands. — Do you really think I'm here for sex? How needy and pathetic do you think I am?
He spoke, moving closer to her, and closer, until again there was no more room. He liked this, cornering her, not in a hostile, forced or rough way, he did it quietly, slowly.
She found herself leaning against the wall of the room, gasping to feel his breathing, to hear his heartbeat so close. And she liked it, she liked this feeling him together. And he did this because he knew that the blonde ran away from conversations like this.
— If I'm here it's because I care, I care about you.
— Remember when we were friends? — We were distinct, with totally different and opposite opinions and concepts, and yet we were inseparable. You were for something, and I was against it, and we always ended up getting into a war over it.
— And then one day you managed to disarm me completely. — She lowered her head, stopping herself from crying. — When I woke up that morning without you, and after the way you treated me, I knew things would never be the same.
He puffed out his chest, making room for her, his head tilted back. — You're not a victim, you know why I left that morning. You know what you did, I don't even recognize you anymore.
She put her hands together on his chest, her mouth curved into a bitter smile, he felt his heart hurt, but not to the point of putting up a wall, he closed his face.
— Accept it, that Esme of ten years, fifteen, and seventeen is dead.... I don't care if you care about me, just go and do as I don't care about you, if you live, if you die. — She shrugged.
He chuckles. — You're an iceberg.
— No, dear. — She turned up her face, shaking her head.— I am the whole of Antarctica.
Ian left clenching his fists, it was a bad idea to have gone in there, to have looked vulnerable, Esme blinked feeling a tsunami flood her eyes, her trembling hands knocked over all the creams some wept across the floor shattering little pieces.
Others remained on the headboard intact, she didn't want to feel. She hated to feel, and it would kill that feeling of needing someone, of needing him.
Her crying and tears were interrupted when her phone rang on the bedside table, her agent calling, at least one piece of good news, her interview was scheduled and the paparazzi for her party were already practically camped near her penthouse.
She pulled herself together looking at her swollen face in the mirror, nothing and no one would make her look bad, especially on her favorite day of the year.
She pulled herself together looking at her swollen face in the mirror, nothing and no one would make her look bad, especially on her favorite day of the year.
— What do you mean you won't be? Our fantasies complement each other.
Esme was stressed, and when stressed she sounded like a rabid pincher, her voice became thinner and her speed in saying her sentences increased in a pattern that flash would be impressed with.
She followed Audrey all over the room as she packed her clothes, denying every time Esme asked her to be here for her Halloween party that night, I snorted as I sat on the bed beside the books she had placed on the suitcase on the bed.
— Honestly, I don't know how you think about partying at this point in the championship? He suffered an attack, and the police are still investigating...
Esme put her lips together with colorless lip gloss and her hands on her lap. — Exactly, I need to celebrate life, after all, the guy has already been arrested. I've hired over forty security guards, in addition to the fifteen.
She smiled, watching her sister holding up a rack of clothes full of colorful skirts.
— You talk about me, but you're traveling with your fiancé!
— Esme, that's different, we need that. — She lowered her face in sadness. — Things have been getting a little strange.
Audrey threw a few colorful and extravagant clothes into the purple suitcase on the bed; those clothes made Esme cringe. But, she shut her mouth, normally she would take her sister's patience away, however, she needed her sister in a good mood.
— Do you need clothes? What kind of romantic vacation is this? — Esme sneered.
— The kind that doesn't land us in jail.
— That was a one-time thing. — she asked, holding her index finger up.
She slipped it around her waist, adjusting her pink skirt. Esme was about to say what she wanted to do about her mother, she had been released from the hospital two days ago and it was driving her crazy, she took her hand between the many rings and twirled them on her slim fingers.
— Then I'll send Mom back to her house. — She crossed her hands in her lap.
Audrey took a deep breath, slumped over her suitcase on the bed trying to close it. — Esme, she is our mother. I hate that she lied to us, and I hate the way she treats you even more, but, I think it's just as well that she stays here. Do you know why?
— Because we'll appreciate it more when she's gone? — She said, blinking widely, and inspected her French-painted fingernails.
— No, because maybe now she can change, after all, she did take a bullet for you!
The blonde tapped her feet on the carpet, angry at what her sister had said. — Audrey, no, don't try to play the hero here, okay? Kendra didn't even know about the bullet, it was an accident.
— Okay, my point is... Dad cut off all her income, we're the only ones who still care about her. — She bit her lips, closing her purse. — And that's why Victor and I are only taking two weeks of 'vacation' and not a month like we had planned.
Esme watched her sister smile at the mere mention of her fiancé's name, and wondered what it would be like to have that, to be weak enough to love someone like that.
— Audrey, can I ask you something? — She placed her hand on her heel on the bed.
— Always. — She tilted her head to the side, with a wide, open smile that insisted on not closing, this was Audrey always alive and happy.
— É... You and Victor... — She paused, feeling awkward. — As a couple that has only been together a short time, you still have awkward moments with each other, right? — Her voice came out quickly, running over the words, but the redhead understood.
— No. She laughs, walking to the dressing room. — She laughs, walking to the closet, closing her yellow curtain with neon pink polka dots. — Imagine the strangest thing you could do when no one is looking at you, I could do in front of him. But why the question?
— Nothing, I just... — She shrugged. — I was curious about this whole dream relationship thing you two have, I thought in some area something might be less than perfect.
— We're not perfect.... We are far from perfect! — She let out a deep breath, picking up her loose, brushed hair and pinning it into a high bun secured by a Japanese hair pick.
Esme stood thoughtfully with her head down. — Audrey?
Audrey frowned looking at her, Esme froze holding the cell phone in her hand, ''Do you think one day I will be able to feel this way about someone to the point of being vulnerable?'' That's what she wanted to ask, her most latent doubt, but she put on her armor that she was very well alone, and walked out to the pool saying goodbye to her sister.
Audrey frowned looking at her, Esme froze holding the cell phone in her hand, ''Do you think that one day I will be able to feel this way about someone to the point of being vulnerable?'' That's what she wanted to ask, her most latent doubt, but she put on her armor.
...
Meanwhile among the quiet mountains of Nevada which was a western US state defined by the large expanses of desert and the casinos and 24-hour entertainment that made Las Vegas, its largest city, famous.
Despite Las Vegas and all the attractions the city contained, museums such as the Mob Museum, extravagant live shows and even upscale malls and restaurants. Penelope preferred the silence of the mountains in her small cabin isolated from everything.
— So, mi hija, what did you think of the tour?
Her grandmother spoke as she sat next to her with fried empanadas, and she took a deep breath, smelling the familiar scent of well-baked tomatoes and pasta.
Penelope turned her face to her notebook screen her lips curved into a smile without showing her teeth, she typed on her keyboard answering her agent's e-mail.
— Aha abuelita! I love the script, it's a perfect role for me to get back into. — She leaned back on the couch, her heart racing at the thought of acting again, and bit her lower lip with you. - But, I don't know, should I?
— Hey, hey, you won't refuse! I can tell by your shining ojos that you liked that character. — She took her granddaughter's hand on the keyboard. - You have to stop running away, it's time to live your life.
She smiled back, nodding her head. — Speaking of living life! What time did Mom come home last night?
Abuela shrugged, chewing on her cheese fries. — I don't know! I went to sleep at the same time as you, mi linda.
— We have to keep an eye out, you know how mom stays in Las vegas, I came here to relax and escape the hustle and bustle of the city, like we used to.
— But, before when we came here there weren't those twenty security guards.
Your grandmother looked to the side, she laughed and leaned over kissing your grandmother's forehead. — Aye, aye abuelita. I know, but it's for our protection, besides it was the only way the detectives and
She unlocked the notebook screen again and started reading the script, looking around her mind spun in memories, her childhood by the fireplace listening to Samantha tell horror stories while Francine, Audrey and Eliza braided each other's hair.
The first time she cut herself when she learned to ski, the first time she called Nick her father and he said he did indeed feel like her father, an involuntary hot tear danced down her cheek, she uncrossed her legs.
She needed to move on, even she herself couldn't stand this melancholy anymore, she rolled her eyes at herself.
— What do you know, it's time to make some new memories here.— She took the laptop off her lap, positioning it to the other side of the couch. — How about we enjoy the snow and I'll teach you how to ski, Abeula!
She looked at her grandmother, who widened her eyes with a grimace, and they both laughed along with Rosalita who was standing nearby.
— Okay, how about I go skiing and you watch me.
— Great, idea, I'll get my crocheted blanket. — She winked.
Yes, the crocheted blanket her grandmother had been making for so long it looked like she'd never finish, and she clasped the gloves in her hands and stared at the fire in the fireplace in the center of the room, burning the huge pieces of wood that made the sound of a bonfire.
— And then we can play dominoes! — Sua Abuela asked, standing up, and she blinked, still smiling.
— Okay, but no stealing!
She rested one hand on her hip while the other was raised to the plate, she rocked forward. — By any chance, are you confusing me with your mother? — She laughed. — Speaking of which, we have to go to her room to wake her up.
— Like in the old days? — She said, taking off her black and white coat, leaving only a simple black tank top, feeling the heater working.
Her mouth curved into a mischievous smile, as if she were ten years old again, her grandmother nodded.
Whenever her mother had girls' night out with her old work friends she drank so much that the dryness put her in a bad mood and even when it passed her mother would be unbearable for days there in the mountains that they both knew she was not a fan of.
However, her grandmother and she devised a system to wake her up. First, they would come into the room and put on her favorite song, any song from the album entitled "Four" by Beyonce.
Her mother was a fan, Penelope tiptoed in holding her cell phone that was playing the song ''I care. She held back her laughter, her grandmother held the tray with everything that could help, however, the two were startled when they saw Marisol still in the clothes that had come off.
Lying there, looking up at the ceiling, she seemed to be talking to herself, but she wasn't singing the complete song.
Penelope and her grandmother hurried to join her on the bed.
— Mom, is everything all right? — She ran her fingers through her mother's brown hair on the pillow.
— Hello my love!
Her mother ran her hand through her long hair, fastening it in a high bun, and smiled, her face giving away everything she hadn't slept through. An atmosphere of curiosity spread through the room, and dona Alessandra soon broke the silence.
— What's wrong? How was your night?
— I kissed a man. É... after twenty-five years I kissed another man. And I liked it!
They looked at each other relieved, but still not understanding why their mother looked both scared and electric at the same time.
— Mom, if it was with your consent and you liked it, what's wrong with that?
— I think only yesterday, after I kissed that man... Spectacular! But then I started to feel guilty, and in the meantime I realized that I was single and after all I had asked for all those years waiting for your father to come back.
She sobbed with tears already streaming down her round face, her mother offered her a handkerchief, they looked at her intently sitting together on the bed.
— I know it's pathetic... Because I'm happy, really. I was standing here in shock, replaying the moment in my head a million times.
Her mother looked at her and started to cry, they hugged her together for a long time, Marisol's heart was happy, yes it was, but at the same time sad, she hadn't realized how sad it was to have stopped her love life for a man who left her.
She lifted her head, her arms still open, one over Penelope's shoulder and the other from her mother, she laughed, Penelope wiped her tears.
— You have nothing to feel guilty about, you've been a great mother, daughter, friend, and baker, but life is more than that, Mom. — Penelope's eyes shone with happiness, I'm so happy for you.
— Last night was wonderful, with the girls, we had fun, danced, and of course drank a lot! — She hugged both of them tighter and then let go. — I really thank you both for making me go. Which reminds me, I'm sure someone needs to get out more, maybe start with Esme's Halloween party. If we take the jet, there's plenty of time to get ready.
— Don't change the subject... Penelope said, pulling out of the hug, leaning over to grab a grape from the tray her grandmother had placed on the bed, and put one foot in front of the other, grimacing, frowning at the small of her nose. — Are you going to tell us all about the handsome one, what the cabrom was like?
— Every detail! — Abuelita jumped up and down on the bed, straightening her coat as a cold wind hit the open window.
Marisol scratched the back of her neck, she knew that if she told who it was she might shock them both for more than a month, although she still felt buoyant and numb from the kisses she gave Nick. Yes!
She remembered almost nothing from last night, only that she had met Nick by chance in the casino's vip area, talked but something changed the moment his hand was landed on her waist...
How to say that someone with whom she had always had a friendly relationship after all they had raised Penelope together and nothing ever happened, doesn't mean that there had never been moments, little sparks, an atmosphere, that was always broken by the logic that if something between them went wrong it would affect Penelope and maybe, even ruin her second chance to have a father.
She sighed. — You're the one running away from the point here young lady! I've said all I need to say, the evening was great! You should be more spontaneous like that, like I was when I was young. You should go to the party, it's the October event, plus it would be good for promoting you and the movie.
— Wait, how did you know I accepted the role?
— Honey, I read the first five pages and I already saw the kind of young lady you like.
— I thought so too, and it's just like you! Adventurous and fearless, and the series has two seasons already confirmed.
They looked at her as if she were cornered, she laughs. Her grandmother stretched her smooth legs, which did not do justice to her sixty-one years, across the bed, and asked:
— What is in sú corazon? Why are you hesitating?
— It's just that I don't want to lose it. — She pushed her hair away from her face. - At some point in my career I felt that I was exaggerating, you see? After the saga ended I didn't stop, and I had no time for it, I spent half my marriage on sets. And I keep thinking what if I start drinking again or...
— No, mi vida. If you don't feel safe, then no te voltar. But live your life. — Your grandmother smiles and caresses your face. — But, remember that this you will never lose, even when I'm gone.
Your grandmother's hands tapping the wood of the bed made a noise, and their laughter mingled.
— You'll still have me here. — She leaned over and placed her hand over her heart, and Penelope was already crying with reddened eyes. — We Martinez girls are strong, we are loving and determined, and you are the best thing that ever happened in our lives, we are always here for you.
— I wouldn't change a thing. — Penelope wiped away the tears, hugging them. — I love you!
— Oh, mommy forgot to mention that we are very whiny too! — they laughed.
— So, what costume should I wear? — She twisted her mouth to the side. — Carie the stranger or Tiana?
— AAA so, you're going to the party?
Her mother said excitedly, before she could answer, Samantha's cell phone vibrated in her phone, she turned to answer it her mother got up to go to the shower, Cassandra's name on the screen, she answered it immediately hearing desperate crying.
— Cassandra, what happened?
— Yes, ta-ta. - There are some policemen at my house, they are telling me that I am a suspect in Samantha's murder? P-please come here.
— What? Are you suspected of killing Samantha? — She put her left palm against her forehead, her left eye twitching. — Look, stay calm, I'm taking the first plane there.
She hung up the phone, her abuela asked what had happened. She began to tell him, while running to the closet to pack.
— Apparently the cops want her to come to New York, give a statement, and worse, they took her cell phone as evidence to examine the calls. — Her breathing was short, just imagining how Cassandra must be. -I have to go.
— No honey, but you need to stay in the United States! Remember what that policeman said?
His voice punctuated, helping her throw her clothes into her clumsy suitcase, she quickly closed it, scratching her neck.
— It doesn't matter what they said! — Her hand pulled the handle of the huge silver suitcase, she walked with it dragging it across the floor. — Besides, having Cassandra as a suspect already shows how good a detective they are.
She put on her black and white overcoat, pushing it from button to button as she walked in her purple sneakers.
— Explain to Mom when she comes out of the bathroom, kisses! Love you!
She blew kisses in the air, and ducked out past the security guards.
When she got into the car, she almost stuck her forehead on the window, saying goodbye to the cold, realizing that as soon as they set foot in Paris, it would be the heat of the European summer.
As soon as he stepped out of his jet, his skin felt the warm breeze hitting him and the sensation intensified when he crossed the automatic doors and said goodbye to the air-conditioning in the parking lot.
Still in the car, his heart was pumping blood in an accelerated way, and his mind was spinning wondering when everything would return to normal?
He couldn't even appreciate Paris in such a hurry, and the sun was already close to leaving, he tried to distract himself on his cell phone, checking his messages, his finger clicked on the conversation with Audrey.
Audrey: I cancelled my trip with Victor, he chose to stay on call :( Are you coming to the party? I'll be Poison Ivy.
She rolled down her window, uncrossing her legs over the seat of the black Lamborghini, her fingers on her cell phone screen:
Penelope: I won't be able to, I'm in Paris, I'll tell you later, kisses. Happy Halloween!
She drank the grape soda, halfway down the glass waiting for the answer.
Audrey: It's okay! I figured you would be traveling to celebrate your parents' wedding, so sudden yet so predictable, love you guys congratulate me.
When she read it she frowned so surprised, it must have been one of those pranks Audrey used to play, her friend was a well of her own jokes and puns that most of the time only she understood. She typed:
Penelope: Wedding? What are you talking about? I'm here to see Cassandra.
Audrey typing...
She bit her tongue absently, so when her brown eyes could read the news from the link Audrey sent back, she immediately spat out the juice as a reflex in the face of surprise.
— Everything okay there, Miss Martinez?
Her driver asked, she blinked and turned her cell phone to him. Revealing to him the title of the story.
"Famous actor and known eternal Hollywood bachelor marries in Las Vegas with Marisol Martinez vilanuevo, mother of actress Penelope Martinez... Click here to see the photos. "
It's by the looks of things were far from back to normal....