My co-worker Carlos is so stiff and uptight, I'm beginning to think he's a robot.
A very attractive robot, sure. When I moved to Madrid, I asked him out. He shot me down and then avoided me for months. It's fine, we don't work in the same department at our pharmaceutical company and I don't think he could handle a confident, outgoing woman like myself. I'm forty and fantastic, I don't have time for men who are so fickle.
But when an opportunity comes to travel throughout Europe, meeting with patients and their families about our product that is most personal to me–a hair regrowth treatment for after chemotherapy–it comes with strings attached.
Carlos is coming as my translator, and I have to give presentations.
I may be an extrovert, but I still have a healthy fear of public speaking.
As we go from city to city, I start to see Carlos go soft. He has a grandbaby, FFS, and an elderly dog who adores him. And as he helps me with my speeches, we both discover the layers that make us so different on the outside, hide cores that are more similar than we realize.
And one night with neighboring hotel rooms, we discover our growing chemistry can't be contained by one flimsy door.