Page 38 of Ricardo

I make two espressos, then hand one cup to her. I sit on the floor next to her with mine.

She looks at me, then at the cup in her hand. “You’re sitting on the floor in really expensive clothes.”

“So are you.”

“I have an injury as an excuse.”

“I have solidarity.”

“Oh, don’t be noble.”

I laugh again. It occurs to me that I've never laughed so much with another person, especially not a woman.

She laughs as well, then takes a careful sip of the espresso and closes her eyes for half a second. “Damn it. That’s good.”

“Yes.”

“You don’t have to sound so pleased with yourself.”

“I made coffee for a wounded woman after saving Mario’s rug. I think I’ve earned a little pride.”

I sit next to her as we sip our espresso silently. The sitting area feels different with the office empty around us. During the day, this space belongs to Mario—his schedule, his visitors, his routine. At night, with most of the lights low and Julia sitting barefoot on the floor after slipping off her heels, it feels too private.

For a few minutes, neither of us speaks. She drinks her coffee. I drink mine. The ice melts slowly in the towel against her head. Outside the windows, traffic moves far below us. The office remains quiet.

“Mario left hours ago,” I say.

“I noticed,” she says.

“You are his administrative assistant.”

“That is my job description, yes,” she replies.

“Typically, the administrative assistant goes home when her boss does because there is no one to administratively assist,” I explain. “How hard did you hit your head again?”

She turns her head slowly and gives me a look that would have frightened a weaker man.

“I am choosing to ignore that tone because you brought me ice.”

“How forgiving of you.”

“I can be very forgiving when concussed.”

“You are not concussed.”

“You don’t know that. I could be moments away from forgetting your name.”

“I think we're safe.”

“I think it's too soon to declare.”

“I think you're avoiding the question.”

Her fingers tighten slightly around the espresso cup. It's a small tell, but it's enough.

“I wasn’t avoiding it,” she says, clearly avoiding it. “I was… delaying it.”

“Hmm.”