Yet even with María, there were things Raquel rarely discussed.
That night, she found herself thinking about the plumber.
He hadn’t tried to impress her. He hadn’t asked about her connections or praised her wealth. When she offered him money, he had refused.
For the first time in years, she had encountered someone who seemed more concerned about his conscience than her bank account.
She wondered what it would feel like to know him outside the walls of her mansion.
The next morning, she called him.
“Good morning, Raúl. This is Raquel.”
“Good morning, ma’am.”
“I’d like to invite you to lunch.”
There was a pause.
“Thank you, but I’m not available.”
“I can arrange another day.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t think that would be appropriate.”
“Is it because of yesterday?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She took a breath.
“I won’t make you another offer like that. I simply want to talk to you.”
