Chapter Twenty-Seven: Talk It Out

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"He just...apologized?"

Not only is Paul in disbelief at the news, but I am, too. I sit on Paul's couch, playing with the sides of my coffee cup as I wait for him to say something else, but he just stares at me, mouth agape. Neither of us expected Sebastian to apologize for his behavior. Genuinely, at that.

"It was after our meeting with the AFA. He pulled me aside and apologized. He claimed he was only trying to 'protect me.'"

"From Alejandro?" Paul asks.

I nod. "I don't know why. I think it has to do with their professional issues; Sebastian isn't too fond of the Quintanilla's."

"And why is that?"

I shrug, just as confused as he is, "I have no idea! If everything he's done so far was to 'protect' me from them then I want to know just as badly as you do." I sigh irately. "It's so frustrating. I care about them both, but Sebastian and Alejandro's issues are just making everything more complicated than it needs to be."

Paul bites his lip, deep in thought until his eyes light up.

"I have an idea," he begins. "My friend, Romo, is a counselor. A really good counselor. Why don't you send them to him? Trust me, by the time the session is over, you'll understand what it is that's causing this tension between them."

I almost laugh at that idea. In what would would Alejandro and Sebastian agree to counseling?

"Romo is very discreet. No one would know that they're there."

"I don't know. I doubt they would talk their problems out in 'counseling.'"

"Trust me. He's legit. And if you tell Sebastian and Alejandro that it would mean a lot to you, I'm sure they would agree to it."

I never thought of going as far as convincing Alejandro and Sebastian to go to counseling, but right now I don't know what else to do; Spain 'solidified' the relationship between Alejandro and I as something more than business friendly, whereas Sebastian and I agreed to keep it strictly professional between us. Still, I want them both in my life without these hindering issues having to do with trust and manliness; it's like a pissing contest with the both of them, I swear.

"I'll think about it," I answer, and think about it is exactly what I do. Alejandro comes by my office the next evening and my nerves are rattled. I told him that I had something that I wanted to talk to him about, and he seemed kind of hesitant over the phone before agreeing. He walks in, sporting black trousers and a button up the color of rich red wine. God, he looks good. He knows it, too; he smiles lazily at me when he notices how I'm eyeing him from head to toe. I see Paisa with him as well, but he doesn't enter my office. Immediately, he navigates over to where Darcy sits and begins flirtatious small talk in Spanish. She doesn't see that he's obviously interested.

I hope Claude doesn't see it, either.

"Hey," I say shakily to Alejandro, smiling widely. He answers me with a subtle kiss before closing the door and having a seat. I would hate to openly admit the pleasant shivers that his lips on mine gives me.

"What's up?" He asks me. The concern in his eyes is a bit alarming to me. I don't even know how to begin asking him what I want to ask him.

"How's your day?" I begin. I mentally face-palm when the words come out of my mouth.

Alejandro laughs. "Pretty well, now. And yours?"

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