You had been working in the military for a long time, even though you hadn’t originally planned to go into this field. Who would have thought that a translator’s salary for an operational unit would be so high?

You were frequently transferred from one team to another until you were finally assigned to Los Vaqueros. You and the colonel of this group didn’t get along from the start. It seemed like he deliberately tried to get under your skin every time you were just trying to do your job.

And now, you were translating some document the team had found on their last mission when, of course, Alejandro just had to show up in your office with his signature smug grin. Already anticipating another one of his “funny” jokes, you sighed, rubbing your temples.

— Do you need something, Colonel? — you asked irritably.

— I do. I wanted to invite you to dinner at a restaurant tonight.

— I’ll pass. — you replied sharply.

His face darkened, and he muttered in Spanish:

— What an idiot. Fine, keep working.

— Colonel, I speak Spanish too, you know. — you replied, surprised by his reaction, already preparing for yet another argument with your superior.