by Kate Pearce
“Mamae.”
He kissed the top of her head, and she took his hand, urging him inside, asking him a million questions and not bothering to wait for a single answer.
“Slow down,” he joked. “Speak English—I’ve forgotten my Portuguese.”
She took him through to the sitting room, where a coffee table was covered with opened plastic boxes.
“I’ve brought you pacoquita and pao de queijo. You’re looking thin. Sit down, and eat something, for the love of God.”
“Cheese and candy? I love you, Mamae.”
After years of his father’s cold remoteness, his mother’s dramatic tendencies had taken a while to get used to again, but had definitely enlivened his adult years. She wasn’t the kind of woman who held things in. If she had a problem, she’d let you know, which was one of the reasons why his early childhood had been such a screaming match.
She brought him a cup of coffee, a glass of water, a napkin, a plate, and silverware.
“Eat.”
He knew it was pointless to resist so he meekly ate a few of the treats that had survived the trip from Brazil. To his surprise, he was suddenly hungry. The homemade food and candy reminded him of his mother’s windswept ranch and the gauchos who, much to his mother’s horror, had taught him how to become a bull rider.
He suspected they’d thought he’d fall off once and go running home crying to his mother, but that hadn’t happened. From the first moment on the back of a bull, he’d known he wanted to be good at it—wanted to follow in the footsteps of the famous Brazilian riders like Adriano Moraes and Silvano Alves who had gone and conquered what became the PBR.
His mother sat down on the couch opposite him, and clasped her hands to her bosom. Her style was firmly stuck in the Joan Collins Dynasty era. She was currently wearing a flowing pink satin robe over matching pajamas. She was also a fan of big hair.
“So, I will practice my English with you before I have to speak to your father.” She smiled encouragingly. “Now, have you anything important to tell me?”
“Well, I did win that PBR world title.” Rio grinned at her.
She reached over to pat his knee. “And I was very excited for you, and boasted to all my friends about how clever you are. They were very impressed. Anything else?”
“More important than that?”
“Yes, like have you met a nice woman yet?” She pretended to pout. “I’m the only woman I know without a single grandchild.”
Rio raised an eyebrow. “You think I want to get married after watching what happened with you and my father?”
She waved his objections away, making her many gold bracelets jangle. “Don’t be silly, Rio, darling. That’s all in the past. I survived it, and so can you.”
Sometimes he wasn’t so sure about that. He’d never had her airy view of life. “But you married another idiot.”
“True, but I did have an ulterior motive for that marriage.”
“What?” He put his cup down on the table.
“Getting you back.” Her smile was triumphant. “How do you think I was able to take your father to court? Arturio, the old sweetheart, funded everything for me.”
“I didn’t realize that.” Rio frowned.
“Believe me, he was happy to help.”
“So that wasn’t the reason you got divorced?”
“No! He was in love with his secretary, poor woman. She’d waited years for his first wife to die, and then I appeared and spoiled her plans. When I realized that Arturio really did care for her, I had a chat with her, and—”
“Wait,” Rio interrupted. “You chatted to your husband’s lover?”
Isabelle opened her brown eyes wide at him. “Well, what else was I supposed to do, darling? It was silly for all of us to be unhappy when there was an easy solution. She got the man she loved. I got my darling Josephina and a decent divorce settlement, which helped me continue to fight your father every time he tried something devious to stop me from seeing you.”
Rio shook his head. “You are incorrigible.”
She raised her chin. “I certainly don’t give up on those I love. Now, are you quite certain that you haven’t met anyone new?”
Rio hesitated, wondering whether it was wise to venture into the whirling maelstrom of his mother’s romantic fantasies. “I have a friend in town with me who would love to take you shopping if you have time.”
“A male friend?”
“No, a female one.” Ignoring his mother’s hopeful expression, he continued on. “Her name is Yvonne Payet, and she runs the French bakery in Morgantown near where I’m currently staying.”
“With that bad boy HW, yes?”
“That’s the one.”
“He is such a charming boy, and so handsome!” His mother sighed. “He quite makes me wish I was ten years younger.”
“Try twenty, and you might be on to something.” Rio grinned. “And by the way, haven’t I told you not to ogle my friends?”
“Age is just a number, Rio.” She patted her curly hair. “I can’t help it if all your friends think I am beautiful.”
He and his mother had an unconventional relationship. Seeing as she’d had him so young, she acted and looked more like his older sister than his mother and sometimes he treated her accordingly.
“You are beautiful, Mamae. I think you’ll like Yvonne a lot.”
“Then tell her I would be delighted to accept her very kind offer. In fact, why don’t you ask her to have dinner with us tonight so that I can tell her myself?”
“She’s only just arrived in the city. I think she’ll be too tired to come out tonight,” Rio said.
“How about lunch with us tomorrow?”
“She can’t do that either. She has a business lunch, and then a meeting, which I’m going to attend with her.”
“Then let’s do dinner in the evening.”
Rio resigned himself to the inevitable. “I’ll ask her, okay?”
“This Yvonne is smart, then? Is she pretty?”
“I think so.”
His mother beamed at him. “You like her, don’t you?”
“We’re good friends.”
“She’s married?”
“No.”
“Then you cannot be friends,” Isabelle stated. “Men and women are not capable of being friends except when they are old and gray, and even the idea of sex has disappeared.”
Rio rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so old fashioned. I have many friends of both sexes. It doesn’t mean I want to jump into bed with them.”
“You have many friends because you are a delightful well-brought-up man. They stay friends because you don’t believe in love.” She fixed him with her fondest stare. “Don’t argue with your mother. It is the truth—we both know it—and it means that I will never get to be a grandmother.”
One of the interior doors in the suite opened and a voice came floating out.
“Wow, thanks, Mom. What about me? I might give you a grandchild or two one day.”
“Josie!”
“Hey, mano!”
“E ai? Como yai?” Rio jumped to his feet as Josephina, his half sister, came into the room.
He swung her up into a big hug, lifting her off her feet and twirling her around while she squeaked at him to put her down. She’d been born when he was seven, during his mother’s brief marriage to the sainted but ancient Arturio. When he’d finally been allowed to visit his family in Brazil, he’d fallen in love with his tiny sister and, despite the usual sibling moments, had remained her slave ever since.
She thumped him on the shoulder. “Put me down, you great big lug.”
He obliged, but kept an arm around her, monitoring all the changes since he’d seen her last. She wasn’t very tall, and had their mother’s black hair, and her father’s blue eyes.
“I hear congratulations are in order, mana.” He kissed her cheek. “Double major, eh? Now what are you going to do with all that knowledge?”
“I’m going to
copy my big brother, dump my Ivy League education down the toilet, and run away to the circus.”
He pretended to sigh. “No circuses to run to anymore. Maybe you should get a real job.”
“Like you have?” She grinned at him. “Staying put on a bull for a measly eight seconds while flapping your arm around your head?”
He shrugged. “I enjoy it.”
“That’s because at heart you’re an exhibitionist like Mom.”
“Maybe,” he admitted. “Did you come with Mom for moral support, or are you looking for a job out here?”
“Both, really.” She sat beside him on the couch. “I was also thinking of coming to visit my brother first, and taking a couple of weeks off.”
“That would be great. Did Mom tell you I’m staying with the Morgans?”
“Yes. How’s hot HW?”
“Getting hot and heavy with another woman.”
She sighed. “Typical.”
Rio mock frowned. “And he’s too old for you, anyway.”
“He’s the same age as you.”
“Exactly. None of my friends are good boyfriend material.”
“But I bet there are a few hot cowboys on that ranch?”
Rio groaned. “Don’t you get enough of that at home with Mom?”
“They’ve all known me since I was born.” She smiled. “They treat me just like you do. I need fresh blood.”
“I’ll check in with Chase and January Morgan, and see if they can squeeze you in.”
“Nice.” She pecked him on the cheek. “As long as I don’t have to share a room with you, I’m not picky as to where I stay.”
“I’ll talk to them after dinner,” Rio promised. “I’m sure they can put you up in the barn or something.”
“Very funny.” She made a face at him. “Are you looking forward to seeing your father? Mom isn’t. Sometimes I’m glad the Sainted Arturio is dead.”
“He was a good man,” Rio said diplomatically.
“He was an old man who certainly didn’t expect to have a new baby when his oldest child was almost the same age as Mom. I think my arrival hastened his demise.”
“I cannot help being irresistible,” Isabelle chimed in. “He fell in love with me at first sight and pursued me for months.”
Rio nodded at his sister. “That is actually true.”
“So are you looking forward to seeing your father?”
Rio sighed. One thing his sister shared with their mother was her persistence. “No, of course I’m not.”
“What do you think he wants after all this time?”
“I have no idea.”
“When are we seeing him?”
“Tomorrow morning at his offices,” Isabelle said. “And you aren’t coming, Josie.”
She pouted. “Are you sure? I’d quite like to meet him.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” Rio quashed that idea immediately. “He isn’t susceptible to charm and intelligence.”
“But he does like them young,” his mother chimed in. “I think his new wife is just out of her teens, and Graham is over fifty.”
Rio shuddered, and Josie made a face as Isabelle went off to the small kitchen to brew some more coffee.
Josie leaned in and lowered her voice. “Ugh. Maybe I don’t want to meet him after all. He might take a fancy to me. I’ll just spend my time touring the city and looking for jobs instead.”
“Good idea.” Rio caught her eye. “Trust me, you really don’t want to get involved with this.”
“But I’m worried about Mom.”
“I’ll take care of her. I promise you that. Whatever happens, she’ll be safe and well on her ranch, with his money or without it. Nothing can take that away from her.”
Josie grabbed his hand and squeezed it hard. “Thanks, big brother.”
“Nothing to thank me for. Think of it as payback for all the years my father made her life miserable.”
“What are you two muttering about over there?” Isabelle inquired as she came back with the pot of coffee. “Is he telling you about his girlfriend?”
“What girlfriend?” Josie fixed him with an accusing stare, and Rio sighed. He could only hope that, when Yvonne did get to meet his inquisitive family, she wouldn’t regret it.
Chapter Ten
“Thank you.”
Rio tipped the guy who’d brought his dry-cleaned suit up to the suite, and let him out of the door. There was no sign of his mother or sister yet, and breakfast had been delivered ten minutes ago. If they didn’t appear soon, he’d go bang on their doors and threaten to eat everything.
That usually worked.
He took the new suit through to his bedroom, removed the plastic cover, and hung it in the bathroom to catch some of the remaining condensation. He hoped it would fit. After taking up bull riding professionally, he’d changed the definition and bulk of his muscle distribution. He’d hate to look like some kind of muscleman bursting out of his shirt like the Hulk. Although, the idea of popping a few buttons and turning green in front of his father did hold some appeal....
After a good breakfast, for which his mother and yawning sister eventually joined him, he sent a text to Yvonne confirming he’d meet her at the production company’s offices on Market. She replied with a smiley face. Even that was enough to help calm his nerves as he approached the meeting with his father.
Predictably, his mother was late, but as he’d had to struggle into his suit, and remember how to knot his tie, he hadn’t been ready too early himself. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the hall mirror and didn’t even recognize himself without his cowboy hat.
“You look very handsome, Rio.”
His mother came into the entrance hall, her handbag over her arm, her coat unbuttoned. She was wearing high heels Yvonne would probably approve of, but still barely reached his chin.
“So do you.” Rio offered her his arm. “Now, remember, don’t lose your temper and let me handle this, okay?”
She sighed. “I’ll try, but Graham does have the ability to get under my skin.”
“Which is why you’ll let me do the talking,” Rio said firmly. “Now, do you have the address for his new office ready?”
* * *
The offices of Howatch International occupied a whole floor, providing spectacular views over the city and the Bay Bridge beyond. The receptionist led them along a long hallway, past glass-sided cubicles, and meeting rooms that made Rio break out in a cold sweat. The place smelled like bad coffee and money, so not a lot had changed.
Rio stood back to allow his mother to precede him into the end office, where his father’s executive assistant stood to greet them.
“Good morning, Mrs. Howatch, Mr. Howatch.”
“That’s Mrs. and Mr. Martinez,” Rio replied. “Good morning.”
Looking slightly flummoxed, the young man went to knock on the inner door.
“Mr. Howatch? Your visitors have arrived.”
“Thank you. Send them in.”
Again, Rio ushered his mother in front of him, aware that she was already tense, and not feeling much better himself. He was reminded of when he’d been a small boy cowering next to her on the couch while his father yelled at them both for some minor transgression. Sometimes things had gotten even worse....
“Isabelle. How good of you to come.”
“Graham.”
His father came around his desk, a pleasant smile on his face. He wore his usual bespoke, made-in-London pinstripe suit with a plain tie and a pale blue shirt. His hair was almost as grey as his eyes now, and he’d lost some weight. Rio had never looked much like him, and had fervently prayed at one point that he wasn’t really Graham’s son. Only the relative lightness of Rio’s skin compared to his mother’s revealed his shared heritage with his father.
Graham took Isabelle’s hand, and leaned in to kiss her on both cheeks before turning to Rio.
“Son.”
Rio nodded, but didn’t say anything.
“You’re bo
th looking well. Please take a seat. My admin will bring us some refreshments. What would you prefer?”
“Coffee would be fine.” Rio finally found his voice.
He was surprised his father’s lawyers weren’t already present. The man usually never moved a step without them. With an empire spanning the entertainment and food service industry, he was usually involved in litigation for something. The absence of even one lawyer made Rio even more suspicious of his father’s motives.
After the coffee arrived and was dispensed, Graham returned to sit behind his desk. He drew two folders from the stack to his left, and placed them in front of him.
“I have decided to make some adjustments to my current holdings, and as some of your income derives from shares in these companies, Isabelle, I will need your permission to realign your portfolio.”
“Why did you need to see my mother in order to do that?” Rio asked. “You could have asked her over the phone.”
“He’s right, Graham.” Isabelle nodded at Rio. “As you say in America, what’s the catch?”
His father didn’t smile. “I need your signature on a few documents. Knowing how much you hate technology, I decided it would be simpler if you came to sign them in person rather than me attempting to get classified documents delivered to the middle of nowhere.”
“Sao Paulo is hardly that,” Isabelle protested.
“She’s not signing anything until we’ve had a chance to read it through,” Rio said.
“Naturally.” His father looked over at him. “You might have decided to throw away your career, but I certainly didn’t raise a fool.”
“You didn’t raise me. I had a succession of nannies, your young wives, and boarding school to do that for me,” Rio said. “Are we done?”
“Not quite.” Graham folded his hands together on his desk, and looked down at them. “I would like to invite you both, and your daughter, Josephina, to dinner with me tonight.”
Isabelle and Rio shared a quick, startled glance.
“Why?” Rio asked slowly. “What do you have to gain from that?”