Perdona Si Te Llamo: Cayetano Raquel Tirado Fe...

"Since you've effectively branded me for the afternoon," Borja said, gesturing to the coffee stain, "the least you can do is let me buy you a replacement. One that stays in the cup this time?"

"Right," she said, straightening up and handing him a soggy mass of napkins. "Perdona si te llamo 'Cayetano,' but I feel like you probably have a sailboat named after your grandmother and a very strong opinion on polo shirts." Perdona Si Te Llamo Cayetano Raquel Tirado Fe...

"Fine," she said, swinging her bag over her shoulder. "But we’re going to a place I pick. And if I see a single person wearing a sweater tied around their shoulders, I’m leaving." "Since you've effectively branded me for the afternoon,"

Raquel paused her scrubbing. The accent, the Barbour jacket draped over his arm, the leather weekend bag—he was a walking stereotype. "But we’re going to a place I pick

Raquel rolled her eyes, but she couldn't stop the small smile tugging at her mouth. "Of course it is."