More Than Words(80)

“Deep down? En mis tripas?” Rafael asked.

“Yes, in your guts,” Nina said. “God, that sounds so much better in Spanish.”

Rafael laughed. “In my guts, I think you’re right. I think I should win or lose as myself—all of myself. And if we do nothing, if we just cross our fingers and hope, the polls have me losing by two percentage points. So what’s the risk?”

Nina leaned over and kissed him, and he tasted like red wine and determination. “Well, polls aren’t always right, but it’s your campaign, you’re the boss.”

“I know,” Rafael said. “I’m just so afraid to let all of them down. My team. They’ve put in so much time, so much passion. They believe in me, all of them. And I don’t want to mess it up—for them even more than for me.”

“You won’t,” Nina said. She’d been getting used to seeing this vulnerable side of Rafael, ever since their trip to the Hamptons. It made the relationship seem balanced, somehow. She needed him. He needed her. “I believe it—en mis tripas.”

Rafael smiled at her. “By the way,” he said, “I’m cooking tonight.”

Nina raised her eyebrow. “You are?” she said. He’d been her sous chef up in the country and out at the beach a few times over the past weeks, late at night, when his campaign obligations were done for the day, but he hadn’t made anything for her on his own.

Rafael picked up a plastic bag. “I bought ingredients on the way home,” he said, “to make picadillo. My abuela’s recipe.”

Nina agreed to be his sous chef this time and started chopping peppers at his request. Half an hour later the two of them were sitting at the kitchen table with steaming plates of picadillo in front of them.

“This is delicious,” she said, after she took her first bite.

“Gracias,” Rafael said. Then he paused. “Now you say it.”

“How come?” she asked.

Rafael smiled at her. “Because I think the way you speak Spanish is especially sexy. That hint of a Castilian accent? Makes me crazy.”

“Delicioso, gracias,” Nina said, giving him what he wanted, her c more like a th than an s.

“How did I get so lucky?” he asked her.

“How did we get so lucky?” she answered.



* * *



? ? ?

Later that night, Rafael lay in Nina’s arms. Even though he had a king-sized bed, they took up maybe three feet of it, the way they slept, twisted around each other, their legs scissoring, woven tightly together. Rafael said that when he was in bed with her, it was the only time he could sleep through the night.





77



The next morning, Nina used the service exit to leave Rafael’s building while he walked out the front door. They were lucky she had, because the same photographer who’d ambushed them at the Dublin Pub was there taking Rafael’s photo in his workout clothes. Nina got home and saw it on Twitter: Rafael O’Connor-Ruiz Calms His Pre-Election Jitters with a Run in Central Park. That, she realized, would be her life with him if he won. Pictures in the papers. Her clothing analyzed in the New York Post. She knew now wasn’t the right time to talk to Rafael about her worries, so she called Leslie.

Leslie had been as supportive as ever when Nina caught her up on everything that had happened. Breaking her engagement to Tim, sleeping with Rafael, Rafael’s willingness to be with her in spite of what her father had done. Nina had told Leslie about that, too. It felt wrong, keeping anything a secret from her best friend. And Leslie had been outraged at first, like Nina had. But now that Nina had made her peace with her father, Leslie had, too.

“Auntie Nina!” Cole’s voice came over the phone in an excited shout. “My mommy says we can come visit you soon! We’re going to see all the dinosaurs.”

“That’s awesome, sweetie,” Nina said. “I can’t wait. You know what else is in the dinosaur museum?”

“What?” Cole asked.

“The biggest whale you ever saw in your life!”

“I never even saw a small whale,” Cole told her.

“Well, then it’ll be your lucky day when you come. Your first whale will be enormous.”

“Can we go tomorrow?” Nina heard Cole asking Leslie, no longer paying attention to Nina on the phone. “Or maybe today?”

“Maybe in a few weeks,” Leslie said. “How about you go draw a whale for Auntie Nina and we can send it to her?”

Nina heard the phone clatter to the floor.

Then Leslie picking it up.

“Hey,” Leslie said. “I was thinking maybe we could come for Thanksgiving this year. Since it’ll be your first without your dad.”

Tears pricked her eyes at her friend’s words. “I love that idea,” Nina said, sitting down on the couch in her living room and wiping her eyes. “I’ve mostly been ignoring Thanksgiving, but I think it’s time to face it.”

“It’ll come anyway,” Leslie said.

“Like death and taxes,” Nina said.

Leslie laughed. “Just with more gravy.” Then she said, “So what’s up? How’s your secret hunk of a boyfriend doing?”

Nina sighed. “He got paparazzi’ed this morning.”