Raquel stood when he entered.
“Thank you for coming.”
“You’re welcome, ma’am.”
“Please, call me Raquel.”
He hesitated before taking his seat.
She noticed his discomfort.
“You don’t have to be nervous. I’m not going to offer you a house.”
“That’s reassuring.”
She laughed.
It was a genuine laugh, and Raúl was surprised by how much younger she seemed when she stopped trying to appear perfectly composed.
They talked about ordinary things first. His studies. Her career. The neighborhoods where they had grown up. The things they had hoped to become when they were younger.
Then Raquel asked a question.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-five.”
“And you know how old I am?”
“Sixty.”
“Does that bother you?”
Raúl thought carefully before answering.
“I don’t know you well enough to answer that.”
She nodded slowly.
“That’s fair.”
He looked at her.
“Why did you choose me?”
