“When I woke up, it was almost six o’clock. I didn’t want to be late, so I leapt out of bed and scrambled around in the wardrobe for something decent to wear to cocktails with that sophisticate Mariona. I rolled up at Borja’s at a quarter to seven and he, too, looked as if he’d just got out of the sack. “You by yourself?” I asked when he opened the door. “Yes.” “So, was it lunch with Merche?” Borja nodded. “We went to the Port Olímpic. I think she’s rumbled me.” “About you and Lola?” “She suspec...ts there’s another woman. And I thought Merche wasn’t the jealous kind!” he sighed. “What did you expect? You’ll have to choose sooner or later. You can’t sustain this situation for much longer.” “It’s late. I need to have a shower,” he replied, changing the subject. While Borja was sprucing himself up, I switched on the TV and zapped for a while. The princess in town was over the moon with her latest face; a footballer had cheated on his teenage sweetheart with a famous model; the octogenarian Duchess of Alba was as happy as a lark with her young, proletarian fiancé.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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