Lorena kissed me.

In front of everyone.

At my brother's wedding.

I'm having an irrational response to the whole thing, tingling and fluttering like a little kid the first time he saw a Christmas present.

The woman lights me on fire and watches it burn.

And I don't mind even a little.

I just want her to do it again.

Her eyes are hesitant as the cheers rage around us. And it's my brother's wedding, so I can't just run away with her.

"Are you ready for our dance?" I ask once the cheers die down. Keeping my hands where they should be is becoming more and more difficult as her breath catches.

"I think so," she says, bringing her hand to her lips. "I'm just—"

"Making the best of tonight," I remind her. "No strings necessary."

At least, not for her. Because every part of me screams she'll hold every string I have until the day I die.

"So sorry to interrupt... whatever this is." Marcia waves her hands between the two of us and then pulls us both into a hug. "But I have a serious problem to address like three hours ago. Can we go somewhere private?"

"Of course," Lorena answers for me. "Go. I'll be fine."

Marcia bites at her lip, looking back and forth between us. "I was hoping you would both come with me. I have... just come with me, okay?"

She grabs both of our hands and leads us through the archway, down the hall, and into her room which has that nice lemony clean scent. Clearly she's had the cleaners come through since Abel was removed from the hotel virtually kicking and literally screaming that he'd get us back for this.

The video I took of that moment is worth every second of anything he might try to do in order to 'get back at us,' though.

"Sit." Marcia pulls me back to the present, swirling us both around her and onto the bed, right beside each other.

Lorena's hand falls onto my knee and Marcia stands in front of us, hands on her hips.

"Well?" I ask. "What is so urgent it couldn't wait until after the dancing?"

"Remember that hurricane that might or might not be coming in?" she asks.

"Yes," I drawl, because this sounds like it's about to be bad news.

"Two problems," she holds up her fingers. "First, the guy the team was going to fly in to help couldn't leave until tomorrow afternoon. Obviously, that isn't going to happen now. And second, we have to leave tonight to ensure the safety of the flight crew and, of course, ourselves."

"Tonight?" I ask, Lorena's hand tightening on my knee.

"Tonight," Marcia confirms with a quick nod of her head.

"So we don't get to stay for the wedding reception?" I ask, trying to wrap my head around everything she just said. And then it clicks. The real problem isn't missing my brother's second wedding reception. And it isn't losing the chance to dance with Lor. Well, it isn't just that.

"Wait. If the team guy isn't getting in at all, how is this tour even going ahead? You can't do everything on your own, Marcia. It's not healthy." But we can't cancel it. I know that.

The look she gives me could curdle milk, because it says in one tiny second, that she doesn't want to hear this shit from me, the guy who goes against her contract, makes her life harder, and frequently does the work of seven people to avoid overburdening others.

"That's... why I asked Lorena to be here," Marcia says, wringing her hands in front of her and picking at the edge of her fingernails.

We all sit in silence, Marcia looking back and forth between us, and Lor and I staring at Marcia and then back at each other.

"Lorena is very good at organizing things," Marcia begins. "And according to her friends she is currently between jobs."

"I got fired, you mean," she says firmly. "We can call it what it was."

"You were fired?" I ask, turning to face her.

"Long story," she says. "Water under the bridge. I've got other work lined up."

"I know, but I was wondering if you could spare us a week and a half to get this tour done. Maybe less if the team guy can get here in the next three days. If it's longer than that, it's probably not worth it for him to come. He's unavailable the last few days anyway, and—"

"Are you offering me a job?" Lorena stands and steps away from me, dropping my hand from hers as she does. "Because I don't need any charity."

"I knew this would happen," Marcia fusses, running her hand through her already messy hair. "It would absolutely not be charity. At least not how you're thinking. You'd be doing me a HUGE favour. Like I'd finally be able to sleep and eat without my face glued to my phone kind of huge. And not to mention we'd be getting back at Abel which..."

"Can I think about it?" Lorena asks.

"Of course," Marcia says with a smile. "Of course. Take the time you need."

"Until when?" Lorena asks. "When would you need to leave?"

"Six o'clock this evening," she says finally. "Do you want me to come with you and lay out the terms? There's not a lot of room for negotiation, because we don't have a lot of time, but I could work with you until it's something you like. Please, just think about it, Lorena. I'm honestly desperate for the help and, truthfully, I would have had more time to figure this out if I hadn't messed everything up with Abel."

"You didn't mess a damn thing up with Abel," I protest, standing as well. "He messed it up with you."

She waves her hand. "Semantics. It's my fault and I just need to fix it."

"I'll think about it," Lorena responds. "Thanks for the offer."

And then she's gone, Marcia trailing in her wake, leaving me to return to my brother's wedding alone and a lot less excited than I was ten minutes ago.

Lorena doesn't seem to want the job.

That should be a good thing. She's not here just for my money and connections. It's exactly what I've always wanted.

So why does it feel so awful? Why is a pit settling in my stomach, twisting her words until it feels like she doesn't want to be around me.

Like I'm not good enough for her.

~ * ~

I spend the rest of the wedding sulking, and Lorena spends the rest of the wedding, barely being at the wedding. She shows up for a few minutes to talk to Bianca and then she's gone again.

I try to catch her but she just waves and runs off.

I do get to witness the women scramble for the bouquet. Carla comes up holding it and shouting about how superior she is at catching things, even though all she did was pick it up from the ground after absolutely no one caught it.

She then leads a line of people all dancing behind one another around the room like a snake, holding the bouquet in the air like a beacon. When she gets to the far side of the room where I'm sitting, half obscured by a wall of tulle mother had secured as a decoration, she drops the bouquet into my lap and says, "Deliver that to Lor for me, will ya?"

"What?"

"She caught the first one. Or, well, the second one. It's only fair she has this one, too."

"What makes you think I can give it to her?"

She just winks and shouts something in a language I've never heard before and races off with her trail of wedding guests cheering behind her.

My phone beeps with a call from Marcia. My time at the reception is over.

With the phone securely in my suit jacket and my hand firmly grasping the bouquet, I navigate the snake of dancing guests until I get to the side table where Enrique and his not-so-new wife are sitting.

"I have to go," I say, giving them both a hug. "It was a really fun week."

"I bet it was," Bianca says, glancing down at the bouquet I'm carrying.

My phone vibrates again and I know Marcia is about to march in here and drag me away herself. "Marcia and I send our best wishes to both of you. You can expect my gift at your house once you're back."

"Travel safe," Bianca calls out as I turn my attention to my mother.

She's gathered the whole family, so hugs and kisses take longer than they should. I have to promise to visit them in the new year before I can escape the vice grip of my mother's hug.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I race down the hallway to my room. But when I arrive, no one is there.

I slip the bouquet into my other hand and slip the key card into the lock, pushing the door open to a pristine clean room, my suitcases neatly lined up against the wall.

Marcia has organized everything. All I need to do is grab my stuff and go. I have plenty of time to make it. But I can't leave it like this, with Lor thinking I'm trying to buy her off or something.

A gentle knock comes at my door and Marcia's voice accompanies it. "We have to go, Óscar. You have five minutes."

I whip the door open, dragging my bags behind me. "I need to see Lor first, Mar. I can't just—"

She's standing right there.

Right next to Marcia, in a beautiful floor length floral dress and sunglasses, stands Lorena. I stop in my tracks, door slamming closed on my bag.

"I've been getting Lorena up to speed on your itinerary, and she's agreed to help us—"

"Thank you," I say, reaching out for Lor.

"On three conditions," Marcia continues.

"Which are?" I cross my arms across my chest and contemplate how badly I really need to help this charity.

"First," Marcia begins, reading off the paper in front of her. "You won't go off galavanting with, and this is a quote, 'God only knows what women'."

"Done," I say, staring right at Lorena. I can't tell if she's looking at me through her enormous sunglasses.

"Second," Marcia clears her throat and runs her finger along the paper as she reads. "You agree to attend all events scheduled by Ms. Martinez and not to delay or arrive late to any events you may deem, and again, this is a quote, 'insufficiently interesting or not to your tastes'."

"These events are all vetted by Marcia?" I ask, stepping in closer and engaging in the staring contest Lorena has begun.

"Every single one," Marcia answers without looking up. "And finally."

Lor cuts her off and steps in closer, looking up at me. "Finally, you let me know right now where this," she moves her finger between both of our chests, "is going. I need to go into this with all the information."

"Where do you want it to go, Lorena?" I challenge.

"Where do you think?" She pushes back.

"I'm serious, Lor. Where I see this going is wherever you want it to go. I'm not sure what's going to happen. I thought I'd never see you again. So far as I'm concerned, we're operating on borrowed time and I'm happy to use it however you please."

"What if I want us to pick up dog shit together?"

"I'd do it."

"And if I suggested skydiving?"

"Name the time and place."

"Would you call my mother and tell her I'm way richer than her now so she can stop calling me ever again?"

"No."

"Wait, what? That's the easiest one."

"Call her yourself," I challenge. "Take it or leave it."

"Fine," Lorena relents. "And I've already talked to Marcia about this but just so you know, any and all clothes, jewellery, or electronics that I need to complete this role will be provided by you at your own cost. I'm not going into the hole to parade you around Honduras like some kind of god."

"I would never traipse around pretending to be a god. Never."

"I know, primo," Marcia whispers in my ear. I'd almost forgotten she was there. "But just let her have this one, okay? I need a nap."

"You really think she'll be good for this?"

I admit to watching Lorena's hips sway in her dress as she walks away.

"As long as you keep it in your pants and let the woman do her job," Marcia challenges. "Seriously, primo, keep it together. We have work to do."

She's right. I know she's right. The charity, the kids, they all need me focused and sharp. Getting into bed with Lorena is not going to help me focus on what I need to.

But I'm still holding her bouquet in my hands and I can't help my mind from wandering after her.