Page 21 of Tell Me What you Think

Her boss moistened her lips.

"I asked you in here because today isn't an isolated thing, Olga. You've been off all week—unfocused, making mistakes, answering late or answering something I didn't ask—and that's not even counting how you've been glued to your phone all day."

Olga's mouth fell open, and Marina was caught off guard when she saw tears starting to well up in her eyes.

"Look—I know you're efficient at a level that's almost superhuman, which is exactly why I chose you and I don't regret it. But if something's going on, tell me. I can give you a few days if you need them. What I can't do is keep you here if I can't trust what you're doing. Talk to me, Olga."

She knew this wasn't normal—that no boss would say what this woman was saying to her. But that was one of the first things that had made her fall for her: the ability to empathize and to never act like she was above anyone else.

"On Tuesday I received a certified letter from a law firm. They're representing my cousin, who's claiming half of the apartment I live in because, apparently, my mother and his father never formalized the inheritance with a notary—so something that was supposed to be mine is still legally in my late grandmother's name. He's demanding money I don't have, or he wants the place sold and the proceeds split."

"Is that why you've been on the phone all day? Are you talking to a lawyer?"

Olga let out a short, bitter laugh and wiped her eyes before the tears could fall.

"I wish. Every firm I've found that specializes in this isn't available until January—and I need someone who knows this stuff to sit down with me and tell me he can't do this, that he already got his share of the inheritance and he can't take mine. I know January is only two weeks away, but I can't spend fifteen days like this not knowing whether I'll still have an apartment next year, or—"

"I understand—you need to know what your options are. Can I see it? The certified letter."

She jumped up from her chair and hurried to her bag, where she'd been carrying that damned letter every day in the hope that some firm might miraculously fit her in some afternoon.

Marina settled back and read through both pages with a focus that made Olga's chest swell, because her boss seemed to be genuinely invested in her problem.

"I know a lawyer," Marina said when she finished. "Her office is in Esplugues de Llobregat—she handled my divorce four years ago. Her specialty is family law and estates. We're not exactly close friends, but I've known her since we went to school together and we grab drinks every now and then."

"Marina, you really don't have to—"

Her smile shifted slightly as she handed the papers back, and Olga found herself staring at the scar that split her lip—the one she dreamed about kissing.

"Her office is probably also booked until January, but if I ask as a personal favor, there's a chance she'll see you sooner—at least to walk you through your options."

Olga's eyes filled again.

"I don't want to put you out, I—"

"Listen." Marina leaned forward slightly, and Olga felt herself float on that perfume that had become something like a drug to her. "It's one phone call, Olga, and it costs me nothing to make it. Besides, I need you sharp—what's waiting for us starting Monday isn't going to be easy. But I won't do it if you're not comfortable with it."

Olga looked down at her own shoes—a pair of flat loafers, practical and comfortable, in sharp contrast to the three-inch heels her boss was wearing, heels she was certain would destroy her feet.

"Yes, please—if you don't mind," she said shyly.

She didn't like asking for favors, least of all from someone at work, but she was desperate, and if Marina could get that lawyer to clear up her questions before she completely lost her mind, she'd be grateful.

"All right, give me a minute."

Marina stood, moved to her own chair, and picked up her phone to search for the lawyer's personal number. She pressed the phone to her ear and swiveled the chair toward the window, crossing her legs again while she waited for the call to connect.

"Hey, Marina," the lawyer answered.

"How are you, Andrea?"

"Walking out the door to head to Tarragona for the weekend. You're not getting divorced again, are you?" she teased, and Marina smiled just as she swiveled back around—which made Olga's heart skip.

"I'd have to get married again first, and that's not exactly in my plans right now," she answered, amused. "I won't keep you—I'm calling because I need a favor."

"Shoot."

Marina summed it up in under a minute.