She’d gone home to shower and change. Not that her work outfit, a pair of black palazzo pants and a sleeveless white blouse, wasn’t nice enough for Papagayos. It was. But if the man who invited her to dinner to discuss buying the house was who she thought it was, she wanted to look at her best. Vain? Ava knew it was. But she hadn’t seen Mateo Ortega in over twelve years and she didn’t want to face him looking like the insecure, unsure girl she used to be. She surveyed the clothes strewn across her bed. There had to be something decent here. Her income was steady and, although she didn’t over spend on her clothes, she did invest in a wardrobe that projected the upscale, confident, successful image she wanted to convey. She sat down on the edge of the bed and bit her lip. What did she want to convey this evening? Certainly not her nervousness. And she was nervous about seeing Mateo again after all this time. She closed her eyes and a rush of memories came flooding back to her. She could see herself sitting on the front porch of her mother’s home, knees drawn to her chest, watching the Ortega boys outside in their grandparents’ yard playing football.
