The waiter brought the rest of her order—figs and strawberries. She ate a fig while he watched her teeth tear at the fruit. Something in his intense expression made her feel funny in her stomach.
To break the tension, she said, ‘‘Thank you for buying the hats. Maybe you ruined my reputation with the villagers forever, but you certainly made Huicho’s day.’’
‘‘No more Ugly American?’’
The waiter walked by holding the parrot on a gloved hand. The parrot bellowed, ‘‘Ugly American,’’ and people turned to stare.
‘‘I don’t much like parrots,’’ Cash said.
‘‘Ugly American,’’ the bird screamed again, and the waiter carried him away.
‘‘The term definitely doesn’t apply to you.’’ Her gaze drifted over him assessingly, lingering on his eyes and long, curling lashes and then on his thick, black hair.
‘‘So, you think I’m handsome?’’
‘‘Maybe just a little.’’ She felt her cheeks heat at the admission.
‘‘If you thought I was any more handsome, we’d be back in the market naked, doing it on those damn hats. I’d have had to buy out the entire village.’’
‘‘Wrong subject, remember?’’ She twisted a red curl around her fingertip so tightly the end of her finger went numb.
‘‘Right. Your Huicho was beaming like a happy fox after you helped him rip me off.’’
‘‘You’re rich. He’s poor.’’
‘‘The perpetual class war. We rich are constantly under attack—’’
‘‘You wanted to talk…so talk. I need to get back to Miguelito. And away from you,’’ she finished in a softer tone.
‘‘Okay, let’s not let a perfectly innocent accident and impulsive reaction, er, action on my part…in the market…ruin our relationship.’’
‘‘Relationship? We don’t have a relationship.’’
‘‘We got naked together and we kissed.’’
‘‘Which is why I told you we have to avoid each other—not sit here together and discuss it. You’re supposed to have a relationship with Isabela.’’
‘‘That was the plan.’’ His expression darkened.
‘‘She’s rich and unencumbered by a child. Her father’s a famous architect—your mentor. You know the same people. She’s been wonderful to me.’’
‘‘You don’t have to sell Isabela to me. Marrying her was my bright idea, remember.’’
‘‘What you and I have to do is avoid one another.’’
‘‘So, you think I should go back to Plan A?’’
‘‘Plan A being Isabela?’’ she asked.
He nodded.
‘‘Of course. We already agreed on that. We’ll chalk this…us…up to temporary insanity. Seeing someone naked would make anybody crazy—especially a man.’’
‘‘You didn’t feel a thing?’’
His smile made her shiver deep inside her belly. ‘‘I say we stay away from each other. I’ll let Isabela introduce us formally, of course. Maybe over lunch. Then I disappear with Miguelito. In other words, we avoid each other like the plague.’’
‘‘And in a day or two, I should have my car back on the right track, so to speak?’’
‘‘Exactly. You weren’t really flying. You were just up in the air an inch or two.’’
He laughed. ‘‘It damn sure felt like flying.’’
‘‘Don’t think about it, then. You’ll get well faster.’’
‘‘Right. So, what’s it like…being down here with a kid?’’
She dropped her gaze to the platter of figs. ‘‘I think you and I have everything figured out. I need to go.’’
He was watching her so intently her breath caught. He had a way of seeing too much, and she wondered what she was doing here with him. Feeling more and more at ease with him. When Isabela, beloved Isabela, was at home.
No way could she relate to him. He had years and years of schooling. He was great at what he did—famous too. He knew who he was, and she still didn’t have a clue who she was.
She’d dropped out after one year of college. He probably thought she was so far beneath him, they weren’t even on the same planet.
She swallowed again. ‘‘So, what’s it like being rich and famous?’’
‘‘If we’re going to talk, I asked you first. What’s it like for you—here?’’
‘‘As if you care.’’
‘‘You could open up. Sometimes it’s easier to talk to strangers. What do you want? What do you dream about?’’
You. Love. Happily ever after.
She shook her head. ‘‘I was a young, stupid fool. I wanted the perfect love. So, I married a man I didn’t know. I was idealistic. I thought he was someone he could never be. He’s not a bad man. He’s…he’s…just not husband material. Not for me anyway.’’
‘‘And what kind of man would be husband material?’’
‘‘Who would want me? What do I have to offer the kind of man I’d want to marry? I’ve got a kid, no education and no future. I think I need to fix me first.’’
‘‘If you think you need to have something to offer, why aren’t you busy acquiring the skills and talents you need to get what you want? Go get an education.’’
‘‘Like it’s that easy? I have a kid.’’
‘‘So? He’s cute and friendly. He could be an asset.’’
‘‘I’m flat broke.’’
‘‘Do you intend to stay that way the rest of your life? If you don’t, when are you going to start doing something about it?’’ he persisted.
‘‘I let Julio steal my inheritance.’’
‘‘The trouble with you is you’re stuck in the past.’’
‘‘This conversation is getting way too personal. Besides, you’re making me mad.’’
‘‘What are you, twenty-six? Maybe it’s time you grew up and did something to solve your problems.’’
‘‘Twenty-five,’’ she snapped. ‘‘And you know what? You’re clueless. You don’t know me. You don’t know anything. You can’t tell me how to solve my problems. Not when you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth.’’
‘‘Then whine and dream till you die for all I care.’’
‘‘Shut up. Just shut up.’’
‘‘Sorry.’’ He slid back in his chair. ‘‘I was out of line. Way out of line. What I meant was, you should quit feeling sorry for yourself and set some goals. You know a lot of women would just wait for some white knight to show up and rescue them.’’
‘‘Not me. Never again.’’
‘‘You could try playing the sex object. You’re pretty good at it.’’ He lifted a dark brow.
‘‘No man’s going to rescue me. There’s no such thing as a hero. I’ve learned that much. Men—all men, including you cause way more problems than they ever solve. Sex makes more trouble than it solves, too.’’ She got up. ‘‘This conversation is getting us nowhere. Thanks for breakfast. I learned a lot. You and I were better off before we talked. Isabela is my sister-in-law. And she’s very jealous. Mérida is a small town. If someone sees us here—’’
‘‘She trusts you completely.’’
‘‘And I want to keep it that way.’’
‘‘Not so fast. You told me your life story, and I gave you free advice.’’
‘‘Which is all it’s worth.’’
‘‘Well, now it’s my turn.’’
‘‘What?’’
‘‘You owe me.’’ He grabbed one of her figs and began munching, rather loudly.
‘‘You can be obnoxious sometimes.’’ She seized a fig too and against her will sat back down and began to toy with it. But he was fun to kiss, and even when he exasperated her, he had fierce male energy that made her feel cared for.
He laughed. ‘‘Maybe I’ll tell you what it’s like being rich. It’s not what you think. It sets you apart, makes you cold, inhuman. My father was the coldest man I ever knew. I didn’t really love Susana when I married her the way you lo
ved Julio, and I didn’t think there was anything wrong with that. She was beautiful and smart and well-educated and well-bred, the sort of woman a man in my position was expected to marry.’’
‘‘Like Isabela?’’
‘‘Not exactly.’’ Still, he nodded and shot her a thin smile. ‘‘I enjoyed her company, and the longer I was with her, the closer I felt to her. But I worked too hard and was gone all the time. Then we had a little girl. In the last year before they were… There was a fire, you see….’’
‘‘Isabela told me. I’m so sorry.’’
He stopped talking abruptly and went still. Then he stared out the window at the street. ‘‘Well…’’ He gulped in a deep breath and then another, as if unable to go on.
Just watching him caused a lump to form in her throat.
‘‘You came to love her. I can tell.’’
‘‘Yes. I didn’t grow up accustomed to love. I’d never known what it was. So love came as a surprise to me.’’
‘‘My parents died when I was a little girl,’’ she began softly. ‘‘Just like that—everything was gone. People vanish, and there’s this big hole in your life you can never fill.’’
He looked up at her. ‘‘And you don’t know what they meant to you until they’re gone. It was as if there were all these barrels of love inside me. While she was alive they’d been shut up tight. When she died, they overflowed, and suddenly I was drowning.’’
‘‘I thought my little brother was such a pest. Then—’’ She stopped and shut her eyes. ‘‘An uncle I hadn’t really known took me in. He showed up right after the funeral. I told him I didn’t want to be adopted. And you know what he said?’’
‘‘What?’’ Cash was staring at her intently.
‘‘‘How about you adopt me, then?’ There were tears in his gray eyes—eyes that reminded me of my father’s, only his face was softer, kinder. He knelt and I hugged him. And after a while my life got all right again, better than all right. In fact my life with Uncle Morton and his friends was wonderful…if unconventional.’’ She wasn’t quite ready to tell him about Uncle Morton. ‘‘It set me apart, but it broke down a lot of barriers. Your money separated you, but I learned people are just people, that labels are just labels. And that they aren’t really right most of the time.’’
When Cash stared out at the noisy street at a man who was sweeping the trash into piles, she resumed talking even though she wasn’t sure he was listening. ‘‘I wanted to grow up and fall in love. To have children. To be happy like my parents. I thought it would be so easy to marry and be part of a happy family.’’
He selected another fig. ‘‘Then you met Julio.’’
‘‘And at first it was easy, but it didn’t work out.’’
He nodded. ‘‘Go on.’’
‘‘You said I need to grow up. Maybe I have already. I thought I loved Julio so much. That’s why I’m afraid of marriage now…afraid of trusting my instincts again. I wouldn’t want to give so much of myself just to lose it all again. Miguelito loves so easily. I don’t want his heart broken. I want life to be different, but I’m afraid of repeating my mistakes.’’
‘‘Maybe you have to try anyway.’’ He stared at her. ‘‘All I wanted when I came here was to marry again, I guess because I couldn’t bear living alone.’’
‘‘You make living with someone sound so easy…as if anyone will do.’’
‘‘Maybe I was being stupid,’’ he said thoughtfully.
‘‘I’m not sure you can just pick whomever you want. People can’t be replaced,’’ she said.
‘‘I know. But I guess it’s all in those expectations we talked about. Maybe I wasn’t expecting nearly as much as you. Maybe I thought anybody would be better than the emptiness I felt.’’
‘‘Isabela deserves to be loved too.’’
‘‘I believed I would fall in love as I did with Susana.’’ His eyes darkened with pain.
‘‘It’s not your fault, you know—what happened to your little girl and wife.’’
‘‘Any more than Julio’s cheating and your marriage ending is yours. You were simply incompatible, and now you must plan a new life.’’
‘‘Plan?’’ She smiled. ‘‘You make it sound easy. You’ve built a big life while I have a small one that is nothing like I envisioned. Lots of mornings I wake up and wonder, what am I doing here?’’
‘‘Miguelito adores you.’’
‘‘Yes—he does.’’
‘‘So, quit listening to your demons. Your life isn’t so small. It has meaning, and my big life feels pretty empty. Follow your dreams, and you’ll be fine.’’
Her eyes shone, and then she remembered about Sophie and all he’d lost, and she couldn’t look at him. ‘‘I’m sorry,’’ she whispered, putting her hand over his.
He flinched as if her fingers stung his warm, solid hand. Then he went rigid, and she knew it was because she’d touched him. Suddenly she remembered their kiss, and maybe he did too. The air became suffocating, and when his eyes met hers, she was intensely aware of him.
He looked at their locked hands and up at her, and his eyes took her breath away. There was so much she wanted to tell him, but she couldn’t seem to frame a single coherent thought. So their gazes did the talking.
Mammal to mammal, man to woman, they were right together in ways that had nothing to do with intellectual thought or words or even sex. He sighed as if he found much comfort in her touch and in her friendship, and then, to her surprise, he put his other hand on hers, keeping it there until the waiter came with the bill.
‘‘Friends?’’ Cash whispered at last, lifting a brow as he reached for his wallet and pulled out a credit card to pay.
‘‘Friends…but just friends,’’ she emphasized. ‘‘We shouldn’t have talked,’’ she whispered.
‘‘‘We shouldn’t.’’’ He grinned teasingly. ‘‘Why do you keep saying that?’’
She pulled her cell phone out of her purse along with a card with a taxi’s number on it and placed a brief call.
When they walked out of the restaurant together into the brilliant sunshine that hit her like a blast furnace, the parrot squawked. ‘‘Taxi! Taxi!’’
‘‘Wonderful bird…mind reader,’’ she said, shading her eyes with her hand when she looked up at Cash.
‘‘And I thought we’d come to an understanding about that awful bird.’’
She laughed. ‘‘He’s a fan of mine.’’
‘‘So am I.’’
For a brief shining moment she felt he knew her better than anyone she’d ever met. Which was crazy.
Then he took her hand and brought it up to his lips slowly, as if he could not resist. His lips were gentle, but they burned, sending a message straight to her heart.
‘‘See you later,’’ she said too quickly.
He gave her a slow smile that melted every bone in her body as he let her go.
A cab rushed up to them spewing dark fumes, and Cash opened her door.
She smiled. ‘‘I called him for you. I have my own car. Two blocks away.’’
‘‘It’s too hot to walk. I’ll drop you.’’
When she bent from the waist to get into the back seat, she heard a wolf whistle that made her jump and whirl angrily around, until she saw it was just the parrot, up to his old tricks.
Cash said, ‘‘At least that troublemaking bird and I agree about something. You’ve got the cutest butt in Mérida.’’
‘‘I think I’ll walk—’’
‘‘The hell you will!’’ He pushed her unceremoniously into the back seat, threw himself inside and slammed the door.
‘‘You’re evil,’’ she said, leaning forward to give the cabbie directions.
‘‘Sorry I made that comment about your…er…backside. Blame it on Mexico,’’ Cash murmured. ‘‘It does something to a man.’’
Before Vivian could think up an adequate retort, her cell phone rang. When she pulled it out of her purse, Isabela’s shrill,
terrified voice nearly burst her eardrum.
‘‘Come home—now!’’
‘‘I’m on my way, querida.’’
‘‘Quickly, just come quickly. Something terrible has happened!’’
Eight
Vivian sensed chaos even before she got out of her car.
Eusebio held on to Miguelito’s hand and Concho’s new collar until Vivian could properly park in the carport and turn off the engine, but the minute he let go, Miguelito and Concho sprang toward her.
‘‘Tía Isabela’s been stung by bees! African bees! Hundreds and hundreds of them!’’ Miguelito, his eyes huge, clapped his cheeks and moaned. ‘‘They tried to get me when I was swimming too! They were in the wall behind the purple flowers with the stickers.’’
‘‘Bougainvillea. Thorns,’’ she said. ‘‘But why?’’
‘‘When Pedro was using the weed eater, they really started buzzing.’’ He made sweeping motions with his arms. ‘‘They were a big black cloud. One landed on Tía’s arm and she swatted it. Then they all got mad at her and chased her!’’
‘‘Where is she?’’
Miguelito grabbed his mother’s hand and buried his head in her skirt. He held her fingers tightly, and she ran her hand through his black hair. ‘‘In her bed. Will she die?’’ he whispered.
‘‘Of course not, darling.’’
‘‘Pedro called the doctor,’’ Eusebio said. ‘‘Señorita Isabela, she is crying like a little child.’’
Vivian cupped Miguelito’s chin. ‘‘No wonder you’re so scared. Qué barbaridad.’’
Miguelito looked up at her with big liquid-dark eyes. ‘‘Tía ran round and round in circles. Then she jumped into the pool and the bees kept buzzing the water. Every time she popped her head out, they stung her again. Then Pedro threw her some towels, and they chased him into the pool house.’’ He gulped in a deep breath. ‘‘I was hiding in there, and one stung my nose. See!’’
She knelt. He held still, so that she could inspect it properly. There was a microscopic red bump on the tip of his dusky nose.
‘‘Oh, mi precioso.’’ She hugged him close.
‘‘Sí, me duele,’’ he whimpered. It hurts. He squinched up his eyes, but he couldn’t quite manage a tear.
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