Translation of Love

I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this alert on a Monday morning. My bouts of insomnia normally leave me feeling groggy and exhausted, especially at the beginning of the work week. Last night, after Victor left and I went to bed, thoughts of the weekend flooded my mind. I’ve been so careful over the last few years to keep relationships at bay. So how did I, over the course of one weekend, get here? Not that Victor is my boyfriend, but he’s more than I’ve allowed myself to have since what happened with Brian. Brian, who I once thought I loved, who I thought loved me, who turned out to be disastrous to my existence. Even with all of that going on in my head, I still managed to fall asleep relatively quickly.

I’ve always hated my job, the work is boring and the people are horrendous. However, there are two saving graces for this place. First and foremost, my salary is pretty damn awesome. Second, the Human Resources manager, Jacinda, is one of the sweetest people I know, so when she pops her head in this morning, I’m truly happy to see her.

“Hey Girlfriend! How was your weekend,” she asks in her usual perky manner. Jacinda is a natural beauty. Her olive skin gives her the glow that people pay hundreds of dollars to try and achieve. She has curly, brown hair that falls just below her shoulders, brown eyes, pouty lips and curves in all the right places. Most people would kill for her body.

“Hey Girl, it was pretty good. How was yours?”

She moves across my office and sits in one of two available chairs in front of my desk. “Oh my God, Elle. On Friday, I went to an autograph signing for the most to-die-for Spanish singer in the world.”

Oh my God is right! All of a sudden, I’m scorching hot. I reach for my water bottle and take a swig. What the hell are the chances of this happening? Talk about awkward. How do I even handle this situation? Do I tell her I know Victor or do I just act like I have no clue?

“A Spanish singer?” I ask, taking the clueless route.

“Yes! His name is Victor Garza. He’s like a Latin God.”

“He sounds hot!” Little does she know that I know how hot he is, semi intimately.

“He is! And get this, when I got my autograph, I asked him for a hug and a kiss and he gave it to me! Ahhh!”

“He kissed you?” All of a sudden, I’m kind of pissed off. I have no right to feel like this. He’s not my boyfriend, and even if he was, he’s famous. I’m sure he hugs and kisses fans all the time.

“Yeah, granted it was just a quick peck on the cheek but I’ll take it!”

“Wow, that sounds exciting.”

She giggles. “It was. Did you do anything exciting?”

I wanna be catty and tell her that I got more than a kiss on the cheek from Victor but I keep that to myself. She’s just reacting like any fan would to the superstar they love. “Not really, I just had dinner with my family, hung out with Jordan and cleaned my house.”

“Cool. Well, whatcha doin for lunch? You wanna get out of here later and grab a bite?”

“Yeah, sure, I’d like that,” I reply as she leaves my office.

The rest of my day is uneventful. I’m able to get through my work without interruption or any major mishaps. Lunch with Jacinda was strange. She did nothing but talk about the ultra hot Latin singer Victor Garza. What surprised me the most was that I thought about Victor most of the day, even when I wasn’t with Jacinda. I want to be happy that there’s someone in my life that interests me but the idea of letting him get too close to hurt me is terrifying. I need to find a way to express that to him without giving too much of myself away.



I make it home in record time and get dinner started. I’m pouring myself a much needed glass of wine when my phone rings. I look at the caller ID and my heart flutters when I see Victor’s name on the screen. I try to keep my annoying giddiness under wraps when I answer the phone.

“Hello?”

“Is it sad that I’ve been home less than five hours and I miss you already?”

I can’t help it, I giggle. “Yes, it’s truly pathetic.”

“Sarcasm will get you nowhere. I think deep down you like it that I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“That’s what scares me,” I say as I take a sip of wine.

“That’s a loaded statement.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, what scares you?”

“Umm…” I think I’ve just opened a can of worms that I may not be ready to deal with.

“Do I scare you? Do men in general scare you? Are you scared of relationships? Are you scared of getting hurt? Are you scared that you like me thinking about you?”

“Yes.” I’m smiling but even the thought of this conversation scares me.

He laughs. “Yes to which one?”

“Umm, all of them?”

Silence.

“Ellie, it’s okay to be scared. We can take things as slow as you want, okay? I can proceed with caution if that’s what you need.”

I realize that I’ve been holding my breath when I finally let out a sigh. “Okay.”

“Okay. Is this conversation too heavy for you?” How does he manage to extract information from me without making it too painful? He can somehow sense my discomfort and calls me out on it without making it a big deal.

“A little.”

“How bout an easier question? How was your day?” I don’t think Brian ever asked me about how my day went. In fact, Brian never asked me anything regarding my life, interests, hobbies, friends or family. I guess it’s true what they say about hindsight.

“My day was okay. Oh, I just remembered something.”

“What?”

“My HR manager, Jacinda, went to see you on Friday.”

“No way!” He sounds genuinely stunned at this news, which I find endearing.

“Yes, she was so excited. She’s in Love!!!”

“Oh no,” he says with a chuckle.

“Yup, and according to her, she got a little smooch from you.”

“Next subject.” At that, I burst out laughing. For me, laughter is usually something that I force. Victor is easy to talk to and he has a way of pulling me out of my shell in a way that no one has been able to do before. I enjoy laughing with him. He brings out the silly, sarcastic side of me. I think I’ve missed that.

“I see how you are, making out with the fans and all that.”

“Nooo, no. It’s not like that.” I can hear from the tone of his voice that he’s smiling. “Some of them will ask for a hug or a kiss and I feel bad. They’ve stood in line for hours just to see me so I’ll give them a peck on the cheek. It’s completely innocent. I don’t wanna be a dick to them.”

“You don’t strike me as the dick-ish type.”

“Well, thanks, Babe.” Something stirs in me when he calls me that. It’s not like he’s trying it on for size. He says it like he means it. Like that one word has so much potential.

“You’re welcome. So, what are you up to?”

“I am looking over some paperwork, and I’ll be heading over to the recording studio in about an hour. How about you?”

“I’m making dinner.”

“Okay. I’ll let you go so you can eat. I’ll call you tomorrow?” It makes me smile that he asks for permission to call me. It makes me smile that, for once, I’m not overthinking my reply.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Alright. Good night, Love.”

“Good night.”

Victor disconnects the phone. I sit and stare at it for a while thinking about our conversation and how much I actually like talking to him. I finish making dinner and I eat in silence. For the first time in a very long time, I find myself wishing that I wasn’t eating alone. Can I really miss someone that I barely know? I push that idea out of my head. It’s a thought that I’m not ready to consider. Victor said that he would proceed with caution. Maybe that’s exactly what I needed to hear to be able to move forward with the notion of getting to know him better.