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"It's my job. I'll show you from my tablet but later."
"Where's your phone?"
She blushed, and that intrigued him. "It fell, and it's broken. I'll replace it tomorrow."
"Show me tomorrow. Actually, show me never." Ramiro said, leaning heavily against the couch. "I'd rather read about myself when I've done something worthwhile, not because I've made the first step in bringing the return of the grunge look."
Carmen's laugh was a cross between horsey and a snort. Her eyes looked very blue and bright as they regarded him. "I take back what I thought about your stupid hair. It works."
He grinned. "Told you."
"And you will do something worthwhile, Ramiro. I promise." Then her cheeks warmed again.
Suddenly, she shot to her feet, picking up her shoes and sneakers. Surprised by her sudden reaction, he asked, "What's wrong?"
For the first time since knowing her, a look of uncertainty crossed her features. The amusement in her eyes was replaced with something akin to despair. Ramiro straightened up, tensing.
"I don't know if this is the time to say it," Carmen began, revealing a tremor in her voice. She looked at her bare toes as she spoke. "There is never a good time to say it."
Ramiro couldn't imagine what she had to say that made her look at him like that, almost with fear. Like she had disappointed him. Carmen ran her hand down her stomach when he was looking at her.
"Fuck me hard, minx. Are you pregnant?" He growled, jerking to his feet.
"What? No!" Carmen glared at him. "What the hell?"
"You did this." He mimicked her.
"That's because I didn't have dinner."
"You didn't have dinner and you're off running? What if you fainted? What if you fainted and someone kidnapped you? What kind ofidiotgoes running in the dark starving?" Ramiro ranted, his green eyes staring at her with disbelief.
"Okay, will you sit down?" Carmen asked calmly. She looked somewhat annoyed at the combination of his anger and concern." Because this isn't easy for me."
"Aren't you feeling faint? Why don't you sit down?"
"It's going to take more than a missed meal to put me on my ass, Brandt. Sit. Down."
He glared at her challengingly, and she stared right back. Then he sat back down. Carmen put her sneakers down and sat on the coffee table. She looked worried. As if she was about to relay some horrible news.
"Ramiro, I want you to know that what happens next is entirely up to you. I believe in you. You are so talented," she said
passionately, her eyes seeming to plead with him to believe her. "I hope . . . I hope you don't stop because you are one of the greatest artists of this generation. And I swear to you to bring you back to the top where you belong. That's' where you should be. On top. You're the best and you deserve better. Much better." Suddenly, she burst into tears.
Her face crumpled, rendering her ugly than ever. She couldn't stop getting uglier. Confused but worried for her, he put his hands on her knees and stroked her hard thighs up and down.
"Hey. What's going on exactly, minx?" She let out a loud, broken sob, and he took her chin between thumb and forefinger. Her breath was unsteady puffs from her red nose. He stared at her searchingly, looking into her teary sapphire eyes, her big mouth curved down as she struggled to make more sobs. His other hand climbed to her cheek.
"Stop that. Tell me."
"Don't be angry with me."
"I could never, Minx."
A fresh bout of tears fell down her cheeks.
"Stop calling me that."
Despite his concern, he smiled. "But it suits you."
