Meet Me in Barcelona Read Online Free Page A

accoutrements.” She held the penny up and froze.
    Oh, God. We all know what I would wish for, and we all know it isn’t going to come true. What was the point? They couldn’t film that. That was just cruel. She wanted to go home. She wanted to close her eyes and be home right now. She let the penny slip out of her fingers. It fell onto the ground, landed on its side, and rolled in a semicircle before plunking down on its face.
    She smiled at the camera again, but this time she could feel her lips quivering. “Off,” she said under her breath as she tried to hold the smile. Jake didn’t hear her. “Look.” She pointed at an apartment above them, to a pair of pink shorts hanging out the window to dry. “Adios for now,” she said. Finally, Jake caught on. He shut down the recording session and turned to Grace. She was taking large, gulping breaths. Tears stayed at the brim of her eyes. She was determined not to cry. Jake reached for her. Grace put her hands up like a shield.
    â€œDon’t,” she said. She felt horrible because Jake was being so nice to her, but she hated anyone touching her when she was upset. Try as she might, once her shields went up, it was hard to let anyone in. And kindness usually made it worse. She had too much hurt swirling around inside her. If she let it out, she might flood the entire city with her tears. And she did not want to break down. Not in front of all these Europeans. She turned her back on Jake and hummed to herself. She didn’t care what anyone else thought. She liked her happy songs. They comforted her. It only took a few bars before she was calmer. “I shouldn’t have done the fountain thing,” she said.
    â€œI liked it.” He was still behind her, but made no further attempts to touch her. She wished she could just let herself open up, just let him hold her. The Sawyers—stoic to the end. Grace waited until the tide inside her eased. Then she turned back to Jake.
    â€œDo you think she’ll know I was going to cry?”
    â€œI’ll look at it later, okay? I won’t upload anything sad. I promise.”
    â€œGood.” Grace took another deep breath and wandered a few steps into the square.
    â€œYou’ll do better with the next video,” Jake said. “It’s going to be all right.”
    â€œNo. I won’t. I think I should go home, Jake.”
    â€œYour mom wanted you to come.”
    â€œWhat if she sent me away just so she could let go?”
    â€œFirst, I don’t think that’s the case. Second, if that’s the way she wants it—and I’m not saying it is—wouldn’t you want to respect her decision?”
    â€œNo. I’d want to be at her side. Holding her hand.”
    Jake held out his hand. This time, Grace took it. He gave her a reassuring squeeze. “How about a compromise?”
    â€œI’m listening.”
    â€œWe stay at least a few days. If in a few days you still want to go home, we’ll be on the next plane.”
    God, he was the best boyfriend ever. Grace was afraid of breaking down again, so she simply nodded and squeezed his hand back. They walked. Grace tried to appreciate it, enjoy the moment. She was here in Barcelona the Beautiful, with Jake, on cobblestone streets with the smell of the ocean in the air, and tango dancers on street corners, and gorgeous architecture, and delicious food, and wine everywhere they looked, but all she wanted was to be in Tennessee in a hospice where the floors were linoleum and the place smelled like SpaghettiOs and Lysol.
    â€œXavier Gens,” Jake said.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œNo offense to Woody. Gens is French. He directed Hitman and is also one of the directors involved with the much anticipated Paris I’ll Kill You .”
    Grace smiled. If Jake hadn’t loved animals so much he probably would have gone on to become a famous director. “Shouldn’t you pick a