by C. I. Lopez
“May I ask the nature of your business?” The woman asked, replacing her initial expression with her best professional look, as she assessed Yasmin.
“Investments,” Yasmin responded, sounding confident and professional.
“Hold on, Miss. I’ll see if the president can see you.” She picked up the phone and spoke quietly, “Sir, there’s a young woman here who is asking to see Don Carlos Piti, regarding making an investment. Can you see her?” A silent pause at the woman’s end preceded by a nod of her head before she hung up the phone. “If you go down to the end of the teller windows, you’ll see a door there on your left. Just knock on it, and go right in.”
Yasmin nodded, wondering why the teller had stared at her so inquisitively. Her paranoia was in overdrive. Her nervous stomach made her feel nauseous, and her body trembled involuntarily as she walked away in the direction given. She was extraordinarily afraid of questions, not wanting to admit she didn’t have identification. Yasmin knew that any suspicious activity could quickly raise red flags that might make it easier for Tomas to find her. She hoped Don Carlos would be as friendly as Eva said, even fatherly, and not make her feel more anxious.
Taking a deep breath, and focusing intently on Tomas’ possibly locating her, she fought the urge not to run away from the bank. Afraid of not thinking coherently, she once again reviewed her plan and decided this was what she had to do. Standing in front of the door to Don Carlo’s office, she found herself subconsciously glancing over her shoulder. She took another deep breath, knowing she needed to maintain control.
Feeling herself among strangers presented the most significant concern for her. Stopping in front of the heavy door, she read the nameplate bearing the name and title, Carlos Piti, President. Unbeknownst to her, it had not yet been changed to the name of the new bank president. Holding on to her courage, she straightened her back and altered her features to the inscrutable mask she’d long worn with Tomas. Yasmin tapped lightly on the door.
PART THREE
Chapter 3
Banking on Something
Federico Montenegro was not the shy, provincial, young man that Yasmin had known. No more than she was the young ingénue wearing cotton dresses and braided hair. Federico had traveled abroad to the U.S.A. He studied in San Francisco, where his provincial mannerisms, as well as his physical appearance, had changed. He had grown a few inches taller and had worked out at the gym so that he looked very different compared to the boy Yasmin had known.
The man behind the desk had just finished signing his name on a document and stood up. It wasn’t unusual for new investors to request a meeting with him. He was pleasantly surprised when this particular investor opened the door and stepped into his office.
Yasmin stood with her hand on the doorknob, staring at his face, looking confused.
While she attempted to sort through the immediate questions plaguing her, Federico was trying not to stare. With her modern hairstyle, makeup, and expensive clothes, she was easily the most beautiful woman to walk through that door since he took over running the bank. The young woman standing before him looked like someone out of a glamour magazine. She was still wearing her sunglasses, which obscured part of her face. Her clothing was tasteful, expensive, and very feminine on her shapely figure. She was beautiful—more than impressive; exquisite.
“Please come in,” Federico said.
Yasmin remained where she stood, gazing questionably at him, panicking at not seeing an older man who would be Don Carlos Piti. “There’s been a mistake,” Yasmin said with a slight quiver in her voice. “I am here to see Don Carlos Piti, the bank president.” She turned to leave.
Federico moved from behind his desk quickly, seizing the doorknob from her hand to push the door shut. “Carlos Piti retired.” He placed his hand lightly upon Yasmin’s back and guided her to a chair.
“Retired?” she queried, sitting down on the edge of the chair, as she gazed up at this young man of more than six-foot standing behind her, holding the chair out for her to sit. She tilted her head back to better view his face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know, but my business was with him.” She watched Federico move around the desk and lower his muscular form into his leather-upholstered executive chair. She observed his darkly-tanned face, all the time clutching the handle of the duffel bag placed on the floor next to her chair. Why did this man look so familiar to her? She pondered this momentarily but was too nervous for dwelling on it.
Federico reached for a pen, which he toyed with, distracted. He leaned back in his high-backed office chair.
Yasmin, still distressed about not seeing Don Carlos, could see all of her hopes disappear at having to deal with this man instead of with Eva’s godfather. She kept her face looking down, her paranoia still working overtime, thinking she needed to get out of there. Yasmin stood up clutching her duffel bag and purse. “I need to leave.”
“I beg your pardon,” he said. “I am the new bank president, but you can trust me.”
“I am sorry, what I meant to say was that I am sorry I missed Don Carlos, he was a friend of the family.”
“Jesus H. Christ!” Federico exclaimed loudly. “Yasmin?” he whispered.
She stared at his face in disbelief, looked into his eyes, and whispered, “Federico?” She got up from her chair, heading for the door in a panic.
He grabbed her duffel bag to keep her from bolting from the room. “Where have you been? Don’t you have better sense than to surprise me like this?” The young bank president set the bag at his feet.
Yasmin felt his gaze sweep over her like invisible hands. “Yes, I am alive and have just come back into town to complete some business with Don Carlos. I had no idea you were the president of the bank, and yes, I do have better sense than to stay here talking with you.”
He grabbed her arm this time, his dark eyes dancing from her face down to her throat, her breasts, then back up again. He stared at her lips. Gently, he removed her sunglasses to gaze into those green eyes that had haunted him for so long.
Yasmin traced his face with her eyes, distracted by the dark, sensual gaze that swept over her. “I came because I need to open an account. Will you help me?” Yasmin felt her heart breaking in so many pieces, and the beating of her heart accelerated as she felt his gaze on her.
Federico shook his head in disbelief. A sardonic grin slowly traced across his beautiful lips, and his white teeth flashed with a sparkle. “I suppose I’ll have to, if for no other reason than to keep you from running away again. Why did you feel you needed to speak with the president of the bank just to open an account?”
“I also need a safety deposit box where I can keep something of value.” She pulled out the two diamond rings and asked Federico if he knew of someone who would give her a fair price for them. In the meantime, she wanted to open a checking account with $450.
Looking at the diamond rings, he said, “I’m glad you decided not to wear them in town, or you would have been robbed, bludgeoned and killed. Are they yours?”
“Of course, they are mine. Do you think I stole them?”
“Did you?” He met her gaze. “I might have to do a search to see if there have been any reports of stolen jewelry. These are worth a small fortune. Yes, if they are yours, we can find a reputable dealer who can give you a fair price for them.”
“I assure you, Federico, they are not stolen, but you cannot run a report on them.” Yasmin’s voice quivered. An enquiry would trace the rings back to the jewelry store where Tomas bought them, and ultimately to Tomas. “They were a gift, but I don’t want the person who gave them to me to know of my immediate need for money.” Yasmin was disappointed at the detached way in which Federico was speaking to her, not that she didn’t deserve it.
If he only knew. She wanted to tell him that it was the memories of the times they spent together that gave her the will to live during the past three years. What would be the point now? In his eyes, she’d left him without explanation and married someone else.
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“These are wedding rings, Yasmin,” he said with a slight tremor. “I’ll do what I can to help you, Mrs. ….”
Yasmin stared at her lap, realizing how careless she’d been, trying to sell her wedding rings. How could she be making so many mistakes already? “My only name is Yasmin Samudio, Federico.” She gazed into his eyes and thought there was a hint of moisture. Was he holding back old feelings?
Federico’s forehead creased as he reached across the desk to hold her trembling hands. “I realize you weren’t expecting to find me here, and you came to do a business transaction. I will treat it as such.” Federico was unable to let go of her hands. He wanted to leap over the desk and hold her tightly against him.
Yasmin sighed deeply. “I did what I thought was best, Federico. I must find a reliable person who would give me a fair amount of money for these rings.”
He let go of her hands reluctantly. “Let’s deal with one thing at a time.”
“Thank you, Federico. I do need your professional advice.”
“First of all, Yasmin, I suggest you keep your $450 in your possession instead of opening a checking account. Don’t misunderstand me, it’s enough money to open an account, but you would have to show identification. Apparently, you are not ready to do that. The wedding rings should be kept in a security box for your own safety.”
“I would thank you for not making fun of me,” Yasmin exploded. Inexperienced, she may be, but not stupid. Having lived with mockery for three years with Tomas, Yasmin wasn’t about to accept it from an insolent person, albeit, once her ex-fiancée. She reached for her purse, prepared to leave when Federico’s hand shot across the desk to cover hers.
“I’m sorry, Yasmin. I was out of line. I have just experienced the greatest shock of my life. You’ve risen from the dead right in front of my eyes, arriving with a fortune in diamond wedding rings, claiming not to be married.” He held onto her hands until her shoulders relaxed. “I am trying to make sense of all this. Exactly what kind of business have you been involved in since you left here?” His eyes twinkled with a kind of idle amusement.
“I have not been involved in any sort of business, and I don’t appreciate your implication to the contrary. As you know, my mother passed away while I was gone, and there will be some money from her estate that I will need to deposit in my account. The $450 is to go into a savings account for Ofelia, as payment for money I owe her.”
Federico nodded slowly to show he was listening.
Yasmin continued, more calmly. “My mother may have been a poor woman, but my parents were hard-working, honest people, and in the end, left a small inheritance for Eva and me. Eva opened her account here when Don Carlos Piti was president, and modest amounts of money from working people were not turned away.”
“I am sorry once again. You have a right to correct me. I’d like you to tell me about the accident, but first, let me put these rings in a safe place for you, and I will give you a receipt. For now, since you can’t provide the required identification, I will put them in my own safety box and give you my only key.”
Yasmin nodded, and her anger from moments before disappeared.
“What I’d really like to do, Yasmin, is ask you to join me for a cup of coffee while you tell me what happened to you.”
“I accept,” she said and nodded again, although she was apprehensive about being seen in public. The newly arrived Yasmin, however, realized that this man deserved an explanation. Hopefully, anyone who saw them would consider her an ordinary client.
*
Federico took her to a modern cafeteria near the bank, where he was greeted by the server, using his first name.
“Hello, Federico. Who’s this lovely creature?” the girl asked and gave a broad smile.
“This is a business meeting, Maria. Please give us the farthest booth in the back. We need to conduct ourselves with the utmost privacy.”
Maria gave him a sly look and led the pair to the farthest booth in the empty cafeteria. It was the middle of the afternoon, and there were no other customers.
“Now, tell me everything, Yasmin Samudio,” Federico said with a smile.
“I wasn’t in the cab when it was hit by a tractor-trailer.” Yasmin went on to explain how there was a minor accident between two cars and then what happened when the drivers faced each other. “I could sense Manuel’s uneasiness, but I was too naïve to recognize the dangers. I hesitated, but I accepted the ride.” A faraway expression captured her features. “It was after I left, while the cab driver waited for the tow truck, that his car, with him in it, was hit by the tractor-trailer.”
“Was the driver of the truck charged?” Federico watched the play of emotions across her features.
“No, Federico, it’s complicated. The whole accident was executed by the mob. I don’t know the details.”
“That all sounds very suspicious.”
Yasmin met his gaze and shook her head, shrugging her shoulders. “I know it was not an accident. I also know that I don’t want to end up the same way.”
“What happened to you after you accepted the ride?”
Aware that Federico was drawing her out, getting her to say far more than she intended, she bowed her head and let her tears flow.
Federico understood the implication. The young bank president’s eyes warmed with kindness, as he had the crazy desire to hold the girl. He wanted to hold her until there was no more sadness in her incredible green eyes. Perhaps he was over-reacting, but Yasmin was the first presentable woman he’d met since leaving San Francisco. Violeta, his occasional companion, in a rather bizarre, one-sided relationship, did not really count.
“If my father were here,” Federico said, “I know he would help you in any way he could. He was the kind of man willing to do anything for his friends. I’ll help you with whatever you need.”
Yasmin had been looking down at her hands while being interrogated by Federico. She raised her chin, staring at him in quick appreciation. She hurriedly dashed away the moisture in her eyes with deft fingers. When Yasmin spoke, a noticeable tremble strained her voice.
“Thank you, Federico, that’s a big weight off my shoulders. I appreciate you keeping those diamonds for me. I feel safer without them, but I am going to need some money from their sale as soon as possible.”
Federico touched her arm briefly, his voice gentle. “Why don’t we go back to the bank and take care of business?” He tossed a bill on the table, and stood, lifting the duffel bag with one hand, offering Yasmin his other hand.
She accepted the hand gladly. Rising from her chair, she felt a warm vibration travel from his hand to hers. He had a steady hand, callused and rough from his days at the ranch. But it felt good. She briefly clung to it, then let it go, walking alongside Federico, slightly intoxicated by faint whiffs of his aftershave lotion or cologne.
He was several inches taller than she in her high heels and was dressed in a gray business suit similar to those Tomas sometimes wore. Yasmin couldn’t help admiring Federico. His body was a sculpture of proud masculine muscle and brawn. He wore no wedding band, so she supposed he must be single. Warmth crept through her veins and moved up her cheeks as she felt his eyes watching her. The brief reminder of why she was here sent a cold shudder through her system.
“Would you like to open your own safety deposit box?” Federico asked when they entered the bank.
“Only if it’s immediately possible without identification.”
He took her back to the vault himself, carrying the box to a small room for her. He explained to her that she could put anything she wanted in there. He strongly recommended that she safeguard any expensive jewelry she owned. Federico started to leave the vault.
“Don’t go,” she said. Having him close, even for a moment longer, made her feel a little less alone. Placing trust in someone had that effect.
“Are you sure? it’s conventional to leave the customer alone.”
“I am only going to deposit the rings, and I
don’t know what I am supposed to do next.”
“Surely, you must have more jewelry,” Federico said, looking at her curiously. Receiving no answer from Yasmin, he continued. “When you are finished, you just place your box back in the drawer and close it. It’s then secure to walk out.”
“Thank you, Federico.”
“You are welcome.”
Yasmin dealt with the rings and waited to hand the box to Federico.
A brief silence ensued before Federico spoke: “Yasmin, you realize that I will have to contact Carlos Piti. He will want to know that you are back, alive, and safe. It was he who paid for most of the costs of your search. He hired a private firm to find you, but they found no leads.” Federico moved to a standing position behind where Yasmin sat. His hand touching the back of her chair.
She turned to look up at him. “If you have to contact him, then it’s all right with me. Please ask him to keep it confidential.” Federico’s closeness and the heat emanating from him was somehow unsettling and comforting at once.
Federico’s fingers touched her shoulder gently for a second, and Yasmin’s nerves flooded with a warm excitement, too new to define. In the years she spent at Tomas’ house, she had only known Rebecca and Belky, as the closest persons, she could call friends. The cook and chauffeur had been friendly enough, but she knew they obeyed Tomas’ orders, so she never let them through her virtual wall of trust. Prince had been unreachable. The abuse she had received from Tomas taught her not to confide in anyone. Trust was a commodity she didn’t have a great deal of, or more aptly, she did not find too many people worthy of it.
Next to Eva, Federico, on the other hand, was a person from her previous life, whom she trusted with her life. She closed the box and handed it over.