Our Secret Summer(35)

“Of course I find him attractive.”

“And nice?”

Nice isn’t the first word that comes to mind with Cristiano, but I suppose he has been. “Nice with an edge,” I tell her.

She grins. “The good ones always are.”

No kidding.

“Are you holding out for someone back home? Is that it?”

I laugh at the idea. “God, no. I haven’t dated anyone since… It’s been years.”

“Really?”

I’ve just blown her mind, but it’s surprisingly easy to drift through day-to-day life without going on dates or entertaining romantic fantasies of any kind. For months after Winnie’s death, I was stuck in a fog of grief, unable to do much more than eat, sleep, and work. To a certain extent, I still haven’t breached that fog. If there have been cute men slipping in and out of my life, I haven’t noticed them. It’s like I’ve had blinders up.

A few times, my mom has brought up my dating life, prodding me to put myself out there and download an app or two. Each time, I promised her I’d consider it, but those were outright lies. I know from discussions with my therapist that remaining single is likely a symptom of my survivor’s guilt, a way for me to punish myself for still being alive when Winnie is not. If she can’t experience love, then why should I?

It’s a hard question to reconcile. I’m not purposely trying to martyr myself for Winnie’s sake, but she was such a huge part of my life, the best friend I’ve ever had, and at times it feels impossible to enjoy life without her.

Being here in Spain is the happiest I’ve been in a long time. Giving myself the freedom to be Elle instead of Isabel has made it slightly easier to start living again rather than merely existing. Annika and Simone are largely to thank for that. I reach up to touch Simone’s hand while she holds the curling iron above my head.

Our eyes lock in the mirror and I smile. “Thank you.”

“What? Oh.” She pretends to gag. “Emotions? No. Stop. Let me finish your hair.”

I laugh, and while she works, I put the finishing touches on my makeup before we head out onto the floor. Tonight, Thalia is our shift leader, and as soon as she spots our trio, she informs Annika and me that we’re assigned to the VIP section.

“A few girls are out with a stomach bug so we’re short-staffed,” she says hurriedly. “Annika, you’ve worked VIP before, haven’t you?”

“A bunch. Last summer.”

Thalia nods, already focusing on the next group of servers. “Okay, yeah. You’ll help Elle if she needs it, then. Simone, I need you to stay down here on the main floor and help cover Mia’s section. It’s going to be a madhouse.”

Annika turns to me, shimmying with excitement. “We’re so lucky. Normally the vets get the VIP section, girls who have been here for multiple summers, even longer than me. I should have thought to make them sick ages ago—”

“Annika!”

She rolls her eyes as she takes my hand and squeezes, already pulling me toward the VIP stairs. “I’m kidding. But seriously, tonight will be the best tip-out ever, just watch. Working up here is a breeze compared to working the floor. Only difference is, you’re more of a wallflower up here. Seen and not heard, that kind of thing. Offer good customer service but otherwise keep your distance and play it cool. Come on, I’ll introduce you to the bartenders.”

Thirty minutes later, I’m smiling to myself thinking of Winnie. She might not have put “get into VIP at Aura” on her bucket list, but I’m convinced that’s only because she didn’t know it existed. She would have loved to experience this. The balcony is positioned just over the stage, so the view of the club and crowd is insane. If I had my phone on me, I’d snap a photo to send to Lita. I checked in with her this morning and, of course, mentioned the fact that Cristiano had found me.

She seemed excited. “I knew it wouldn’t take long.”

“Just so you know, it was pure coincidence. I didn’t meet him until after I got a job at one of his clubs.”

“Fate, then,” she said, sounding wistful.

“Not even close,” I argued, casting aside her silly comment.

“Is he doing like I asked? Watching out for you?”

“I told him I don’t need it. I’m an adult.”

“Isabel.” She tsked. “I’m worried about you there all on your own.”

“I’ve made friends, two girls I work with. We watch out for each other.”

“Good. Real friends are exactly what you need. And if Cristiano keeps an eye on you as well, all the better.”

“Lita.”

She laughed. “What? You didn’t think I’d have any concessions when you pulled me into this plan of yours? It’s either him or me. You want your grandmother to come down to Ibiza? I will at the first sign of trouble, I promise you that.”

“You’re being overbearing.”

“Any grandmother would be. You’re too precious for me to take any chances.”

How was I supposed to argue with that? With Winnie gone, it’s just me, her lone granddaughter.

“Fine. Okay. If he wants to babysit me, I’ll let him.”



I love this song, but I can’t dance. I’m supposed to be a wallflower. Annika and I are positioned near the VIP bar, scanning the crowd, waiting for someone to hold up a hand or nod in our direction. We’ve already made our first few rounds, offering up bottles of expensive champagne and top-shelf liquor, delivering cocktails and drinks to anyone who wants them. Now, we’ve reached a slight lull.