Her Billionaire Santa
Page 12
Katy could humble herself too.
After depositing her things in her cheap hotel room, she took a taxi ride to Las Lagunas.
She gazed at the lovely resort façade. Her stomach churned with apprehension. Maybe he wasn’t staying there. Maybe he’d gone back to the States.
At the resort desk, the attendant recognized her. “Buenas tardes, señorita.”
“Buenas tardes,” she said. “Is Marcus James staying here?”
The employee turned to the computer. “Ah, yes. He is staying in the same room.”
“Gracias.”
Now what? Katy wiped her palms on her pants and checked her reflection in the mirror. She hadn’t bothered to change out of her jeans, and her hair was kind of flat from not having been washed for two days.
That would have to do. She walked down the hallway to the wing where she’d stayed before and stood in front of his door.
No. She couldn’t do it.
Katy, do it.
Before she could chicken out, she knocked on the door.
At first, Katy thought it was the wrong door because she heard a girl’s voice.
The thought grew in her mind. Something unsettling, but not totally surprising.
The door opened to the stunning reporter who had helicoptered into Conchilla to cover Marcus’s charitable work. Her hair was up in a messy, sexy bun, and she was wearing a white resort bathrobe.
“Pardon me,” Katy said, her world collapsing around her.
Behind the reporter, Marcus was standing in the jacuzzi, gaping at her, his face red.
Katy fled.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
KATY
December 22
“The Americano call me,” Mama Muni said. “Ask for you. He said you no answering your cell phone.”
Katy couldn’t see past her tears. After her heart-rending discovery the evening before, she’d gone back to her hotel for her suitcase and caught a helicopter back to Antigua.
Yes, a helicopter, as much as she cringed from the irony.
The bus wasn’t scheduled to come for a few days, forcing her hand. Someone said the bus fell in a sinkhole. Fortunately, all the passengers, farm animals, and the driver got out. Had she waited for the next one, she’d have missed her flight.
As the helicopter lifted off, who should be watching her but Marcus, who was boarding another helicopter from the same tour company.
She was taking the first flight to New York that morning. Exhaustion and despair threatened to overwhelm her, and seeing Marcus was the last thing she wanted to do right now.
“I…I can’t talk to him, Mama Muni. Tell him, ‘No gracias. Ella es muerto.’” She is dead.
“That is not funny, mi hija.”
Mama Muni left. When she didn’t return, Katy assumed that he had given up.
As he should.
Katy couldn’t wait to go home to the States. She wanted her mother.
Her cell phone beeped. She was almost afraid to look at it.
Marcus: Katy, please. Can I talk to you?
Katy: What is there to talk about?
Marcus: Alessandra was waiting for her cameraman to join us.
Katy: What does that have to do with me?
Marcus: I know it looked bad.
Katy: Yes, it did.
Marcus: I’m sorry if I hurt you.
Katy: It’s not like you and I are anything.
Marcus: Ouch. Can I please talk to you? Answer my call, please? This is super hard.
Katy stared at her phone. What was the point? Seeing Alessandra in his hotel room just reminded Katy that Marcus could have his pick of any woman in the world. Why should he pick mousy little Katy? Besides, if she got involved with him, and Conchilla got picked for the Christmas contest, everyone would think he just did a pity choice.
Katy: Sorry. No.
Marcus: I just need to explain, and then I will leave you alone if you want.
Katy: I promised to show you Conchilla, and my obligation is done.
Marcus: So I was just an obligation? I thought we were friends.
Katy: You’re not being fair. What do you want from me?
Marcus: I would love another chance.
Katy: Marcus, thanks for the fun times, but when we get back to New York, it’s not like things will be the same. Besides, you blew it. Multiple times.
Marcus: Katy, please.
She didn’t answer.
Marcus: Do you really want me to leave you alone?
Katy didn’t move. His question swam in front of her eyes.
Katy: Yes.
Several minutes ticked by. Her phone stayed silent, dark like the abyss she seemed to have flung herself into.
“This is better,” Katy said as she packed. She hadn’t come here for a romance. She had come here to help Conchilla.
But in the middle of packing, she had to pause until a wave of pain passed.
As the plane landed at JFK International Airport, Katy glanced at the Christmas decorations in the terminals, feeling hollow inside.
In three days, it would be Christmas.
She closed her eyes and wheeled her suitcase with firm determination.
Mother was waiting for her in the limo at curbside. She enveloped Katy in a cloud of perfume and softness.
“Your father asked to be excused. He had some business to attend to.”
No surprise there. “Okay,” Katy said.
Mother held Katy’s face between her hands and stared at her.
“What’s wrong?” Mother asked.
“Nothing,” Katy lied.
“You usually come back beaming from these trips,” Mother said, tucking back a strand of hair away from Katy’s face.
“I’m tired, I guess.”
“By the way, I know you just got here, but do you remember our little friend, Princess Talia?”
Katy perked up at the mention of Talia’s name. She’d become good friends with the jockey turned princess of the small but wealthy principality of Mondragon.
“Of course, why?”
“She left a message the other day, wanting to invite you for Christmas week at the palace. The flight leaves in two hours, though.”
From Guatemala to Mondragón.
That would be quite the change. A most welcome change.
Marcus’s handsome face appeared in her mind, to be squelched immediately. Marcus’s benefit ball was to be held tonight. If she flew to Mondragón, she would have to miss it.
If she missed it, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. Conchilla would still get the million dollars.
“Are you going to go see Talia?” Mother asked.
Katy bit her lip. “With your blessing, Mother, I’d love to.”
“Ah, but I am used to you traveling. At least you might meet one of the prince’s brothers, and…you never know.”
“Mother.”
Mother kissed her cheek as they got in the limo. “I only want you to be happy and settle down.” She tapped her nose. “No more of these charity jaunts.”
“Sorry, Mother,” Katy said. “That won’t change just because I’’m married.”
An hour later, her cell phone rang.
It was Marcus.
She didn’t want to answer it, but out of civility, she did.
“Hello,” she said.
“Katy!” His voice cracked, sounding surprised. “I…I didn’’t think you’d answer.”
“Well, I did.”
“Yeah. I’m glad you did. How…how are you?”
“I’m fine. Back in the States.”
“So am I.”
She closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry.
He spoke again. “I called to let you know the board picked Conchilla as one of five winners.”
Conchilla won! Praise be to God! “Wait,” she said. “Did you say five winners?”
“Yes. One million for each one.”
“Wow. That’s great.” She was impressed that Marcus had decided to be more g
enerous, but she didn’t want to appear too softened by complimenting him.
“I made recommendations,” he said, “but the board ultimately picked. I’d say they picked well.”
“That’s really great.”
She thought of Sammy and the little children and everyone on that hill and smiled.
“I’d like to invite you to come to the benefit ball tonight to receive the award.”
She bit her lip. “I can’t.”
“You can’t, or you won’t?”
“I can’t. I’m flying to Europe.”
“Oh. I see.” His voice turned cool. “May I bring you the prize check?”
“No,” came her hurried reply. “I’ll ask my mother if she can attend in my place. Is that okay?”
“It’ll have to be, won’t it?” He paused. “I’m happy for Conchilla.”
“Me too.”
“Listen, um…after Christmas, when you get back, maybe…maybe you and I could—”
“I’m sorry. I have to go.”
Silence. Then he said, in a pained voice, “Okay.”
“Goodbye, Marcus.”
“Goodbye, Katy.”
She hung up and took a deep breath. She was proud of herself for talking so politely to him. Especially when she pictured Alessandra in the Jacuzzi with him.
Now she had to pack for cold weather. The Mediterranean had milder winters, but it would still be cooler than Guatemala.
She rooted through her suitcase, taking out dirty clothes. When she came to her black dress, her fingers clutched at it. Salsa music and the sensation of being swung in a circle by Marcus returned to her so vividly.
She wrapped her arms around herself and gasped over the pain that seared her heart.
An hour later, Katy was back at the JFK Airport, this time to board a flight to Spain where she would take a connecting flight to Mondragón. It would make for a full day of traveling, but at least she would have plenty of time to recover and relax.
She kissed Mother on the cheeks. “Thank you for attending the benefit for me.”
“Of course,” Mother said.
“Merry Christmas, Mother.” She touched her cheek. “And give my best to Father.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
MARCUS
The limo brought Marcus to the steps of the New York Metropolitan Opera. An usher opened his door, and Marcus emerged to applause. Five million dollars in Christmas charities was a big deal, he supposed. He couldn’t care less if they gave ten or twenty million. It was just money.
He waved his hand and walked down the red carpet between the crowds under a clear, cloudless night.
There would not be a White Christmas this year. Just like in Guatemala.
Cold fingers wrapped around his heart and squeezed it mercilessly. He’d gotten used to Christmas being bleak, long, and empty. What was another one?
He checked his coat at the cloakroom and made the rounds among the glitterati of New York: the governor, legislators, moneyed folks, artists, actors, actresses. The who’s who of charitable giving. He endured the endless parade of people who had come to bid on the silent auction valued at millions of dollars.
Latrell deserved a raise for pulling this off.
The dinner was fantastic, catered by Chef Todd of Colorado. A band played Big Band dance music. Marcus sat it out and conversed with a member of his board instead. Then it was time to announce the recipients.
He knew Katy wasn’t going to be there but he looked around nonetheless. Hoping against hope. One more nail in the coffin of that relationship.
“May we call up Marcus James?” the announcer said.
Taking the steps to the stage, Marcus turned on his smile and his charm.
“A year ago, our company’s board of directors wanted to host a Christmas contest. This has been the culmination of that germ of an idea and the efforts of my talented assistant, Latrell Adams.”
He motioned for Latrell to stand, and she did to applause.
“I wish to announce the winners of this year’s Christmas contest, which will not be our last, let me assure you. They are: The Birdwatchers Society of America to help the endangered species of Walen Island, Society of Letters Performing Arts, The Benedictine Historic Preservation Board, Redevelopment of Pinley Township, and, last but not the least, the village of Conchilla, Guatemala.”
The applause was deafening.
After a brief presentation on the first four recipients, Conchilla’s video played.
Marcus steeled his heart to the images of the country he had briefly visited but had made such an impression on him. Alessandra and her cameraman had done an excellent job.
Too bad he had to botch it up and gave in to her suggestion for her and her cameraman to join him in the Jacuzzi.
Katy appeared in the video, smiling. In the background, but compelling nonetheless, giving out presents to the children of Conchilla. His chest ached, wishing he could see her again.
Katy’s mother accepted the award on Katy’s behalf. It was strange to watch this older lady who strongly resembled Katy come up the stage to accept the award.
Marcus didn’t want to force himself on the family, but he decided it wouldn’t hurt to talk to her afterward. He went over to her table.
“Congratulations,” Marcus said.
“Thank you.” Mrs. Stevens beamed. “Katy is delighted.”
Marcus’s jaw tightened at the mention of her name. “As I can see by her enthusiasm in being here. But I understand she’s spending Christmas in Europe.”
“It was a special invitation she could hardly turn down, from the royal family of Mondragón.”
“Pardon me?” he said. “Did you say Mondragón?”
A crazy thought formed in his head.
“Why, yes.”
“Funny,” he murmured. “I was invited there too, but I didn’t want to go. Now, however…”
He shook her hand. “It’s so good to meet you,” he said. “I’’m glad we talked.”
“Nice to meet you too.” Her brow furrowed in confusion.
Marcus went to find Latrell. He had to pack, and fast.
***
KATY
One more short flight, and she would be in Mondragón among friends.
Airborne, Katy watched the gala on her tablet, tapped into the onboard wi-fi, her heart filled with gratitude.
Conchilla would get their million dollars. She planned to return on Three Kings Day, January 6, to deliver their prize.
She paused the transmission and stared long and hard at Marcus, her heart throbbing with pain.
She shook her head and settled into her coach seat to sleep. After a full day of travel, sleeping came easily. By the time they landed in Spain, it was morning due to the time change, and she actually felt refreshed.
***
December 23
Katy followed the other passengers out of the small plane at the Mondragón Airport. She could see her breath, but it wasn’t too cold. There wouldn’t be snow except for a little bit in the foothills and on the mountains.
She’d been to Mondragón once before, in the summer, when her friend Talia got married to their monarch, Prince Jay Assante. She still marveled at its lush beauty, the cleanliness of the air, and the well-paved, narrow roadways that hugged the lovely island coast.
A limo pulled up near the tarmac. The door opened, and a laughing Talia got out and embraced her friend.
Katy’s eyes pricked with tears. It was so good to see her. Other than wearing more expensive-looking clothes and riding boots, Talia still had the same sporty-like demeanor. Dirt, probably from riding her horses, streaked her nose.
Talia peered at Katy. “Why so sad around the eyes, my friend?”
Katy tried valiantly to smile, but her heart betrayed her. She burst into tears.
“There, there,” Talia said, patting her hand. “Tell Talia all about it.”
Katy simply said, “Someone just broke my heart.”
“Oh no!” Tal
ia hugged her. “What is his name?”
“You wouldn’t know him,” Katy said. “Some billionaire from New York.”
“Those billionaires.” Talia rolled her eyes.
“Yes,” Katy echoed dully. “Those billionaires.”
“What happened?”
“I…” Katy’s face crumpled. “I don’’t want to talk about it right now.”
Talia nodded and smiled. “Well, don’t you worry your pretty head. You will have a lovely Christmas Eve tomorrow, and we’ll make sure you have a grand time the next week.”
“That sounds wonderful. Thanks so much.”
Talia’s brown eyes danced. “But of course. Jay and I owe so much to you. If you hadn’t intervened, I would have gone on being pig-headed, and we wouldn’t have ended up together.”
“You and he would have found a way, even without me,” Katy said, thinking how beautiful inside and out her friend was. No wonder Prince Jay fell hard for her.
“Maybe, but it would’ve taken much longer.”
The Assante castle loomed ahead, taking Katy’s breath. It had two main towers and a long expanse of battlements, an actual moat with swans in the summer, and a bridge festooned with colorful flags.
“I cannot get over the fact that this is all yours,” Katy said.
“Remember, after all the in-laws take over the apartments, it’s really not as private and romantic as you think it is.”
Talia’s face lit up, and Katy was not surprised to see Talia’s Prince Jay standing just inside the glass walls, waiting for them.
Katy smiled to herself at the memory that at one time, Katy’s mother and Jay’s mother conspired to marry Jay and Katy to each other. Jay fell in love with Talia, and Katy couldn’t be happier for her friend.
“Katy, so good to see you.” Jay greeted her with a kiss and hug. He turned to Talia. “I’ll let you two catch up and see you at lunch.” He kissed her and left.
Talia led Katy to a comfortable couch overlooking the countryside, and before they realized it, two hours had passed, and Jay had returned. “Darling, sorry to interrupt, but one of my clients arrived. I’d like to say hello to him properly. You’’re welcome to rest in your room, Katy, if you’d rather…”
“Oh, that can wait,” Katy said. “I’d rather stay up with you and get adjusted to the time change.”