by Zoe Chant
Maybe he wouldn’t mind getting involved with this.
Pauline shook her head at herself. She minded being involved in this, and she was the one who’d made the choice. Of course he would mind.
She just hoped he’d help anyway. Because this was more important than any fantasy could be.
Finally, after what seemed like ten years, her shift was over. She came over and slid into the booth across from Carlos. She desperately wanted to lean in for a kiss, or to sit on the same side as him, lean into his warmth, but her coworkers were already giving her looks, and she didn’t want to start any rumors when Carlos was going to leave town soon.
He was giving her the calmest, warmest smile. “So, what’s up?”
Pauline took a deep breath and said, “My cousins are in trouble.”
She explained about Marsha’s ongoing problems holding down a job or being there for her kids, and finally her apparent disappearance. Pauline’s own worries about what might happen to the kids if they went into foster care—and now the sudden appearance of even greater worries about what might happen if they carried on like this. What she’d seen last night.
Carlos’ expression became graver and graver as she spoke. As she was finishing, he reached across the table and took her hand.
Pauline hesitated, but—to hell with rumors. She closed her hand around his, feeling his warmth soaking into her chilly fingers.
“And you haven’t told anyone else about this?” Carlos asked her quietly. “You’re all by yourself?”
“I’ve asked quite a few people if they’ve seen Marsha,” Pauline defended herself. “That’s why I was over at the house the other day, talking to Stella and Lynn and asking them to keep an eye out.”
“I wasn’t criticizing,” he said quietly. “It just seems like a lot, to take on yourself.”
“Well,” Pauline said, “I may not always know when I’m out of my depth, but last night really cinched it. I can’t do anything about this wolf pack by myself—definitely not when Drew keeps on refusing my help. I need someone else.”
“Why do you think he’s pushing you away?” Carlos asked thoughtfully. “Pride? Fear?”
“Both of those,” Pauline said heavily. “I’m sure he’s afraid of what will happen if anyone finds out his mother is truly missing. And he’s right to be. I couldn’t promise him that the kids would stay together. Maybe if I’d been approved as a foster mom, I could get someone to agree to let me take them all in, since I’d want to keep them together. But I wasn’t.”
Carlos’ eyebrows went up. “You applied to be a foster parent?”
Pauline nodded emphatically. “After Gary and I divorced—well, I couldn’t find any other man I’d trust to be a father to my children.” Gary, if she was honest, probably shouldn’t have made the cut either, even if he’d wanted kids too, but she’d been young and in love. “So I thought I’d try to do it myself. I didn’t have the money for IVF or anything like that, and there’s so many kids in the world who need parents, anyway...but they said no. Single, too low of an income.”
She’d been hoping that saying it quickly and matter-of-factly like that would make it hurt less, but it didn’t. That final dashing of her hopes had been a deep stab in her heart since it had happened, and it wasn’t lessening anytime soon.
“I’m sorry.” Carlos’ voice was low, and when she looked up, his eyes were dark and compassionate. She felt suddenly, oddly warmed with the thought that he might understand.
“Did you ever want a family?” she asked impulsively.
He sat back a little, though not far enough that their hands slipped apart. “I—I never thought I could do one justice,” he said after a minute.
Pauline frowned. “Why not? You’re—kind, hardworking, well-off...”
He smiled. “I wasn’t always well-off. I grew up very, very poor. My dad left when I was young, and my mom didn’t have nearly enough to really provide for me and my brothers. I joined the Marines to have the kind of security I’d never known growing up, and I promised myself I’d never do that to my own kids. And that didn’t just mean money—my mom worked long, awful hours. She was never around, because she needed to be making money to put food on our table.”
Pauline tried to imagine that. Single mom to—brothers must mean at least three kids.
Was that what she’d be doing, if she somehow managed to get custody of Drew, Troy, and Val?
It would be different, she told herself. Drew was old enough to work, too, or to take care of his siblings while she was at work.
But still. The idea sent a little bit of a chill through her. She didn’t have an extensive family here. She knew how Stella had struggled when she was young, taking care of Eva.
She’d never been able to reconcile that real problem, the knowledge that single motherhood was incredibly tough on everyone, with the crawling need inside her to be a mom.
“So,” Carlos continued, “I couldn’t put my imaginary kids in that same situation. When I was in the Marines, I was overseas for months at a time, and there was always a risk I’d get killed. When I went into the business world, I went with the full intention of working every hour God gave me to succeed as well as I possibly could. It wouldn’t have been right to start a family, not if I’d be prioritizing something else ahead of them.”
“Plenty of men do,” Pauline said quietly.
“I’m not plenty of men.” Carlos spoke with an air of finality.
No, you aren’t, Pauline couldn’t help but think.
“So the way I see it,” he continued after a minute, “no matter what else happens, this kid needs to get away from these wolves. And there’s no way we can make that happen without knowing how he’s involved and what he’s doing for them, and it’ll be a lot harder to do anything at all without his cooperation. So we have to talk to him.”
Pauline let out her breath. Relief was filling her like warm sunlight. Not only was Carlos going to help, she could already tell that his practical, get-things-done attitude was going to be invaluable.
“His shift at Safeway is ending in just a few minutes,” she said, checking her phone. “We can meet him as he comes out.”
“Great,” Carlos said. “Let’s get going.”
***
Carlos
When Pauline had said she had a problem, Carlos had been expecting money troubles, or issues with a pushy customer, or something that was causing her difficulties.
He hadn’t expected to hear about three kids who needed a parent.
But the passion in Pauline’s voice when she’d talked about them, about how they’d been abandoned, the help that they so clearly, desperately needed—and how much Pauline wanted to provide that help—it had moved him more deeply than he knew how to admit.
He was going to help Pauline help these kids. There was no question about it—they weren’t going to be in trouble anymore, not once he was done here.
Pauline directed them to the Safeway, just a few blocks away from Oliver’s. Carlos surveyed the territory.
“This is probably going to feel like an ambush no matter what we do, since we didn’t set up a meeting beforehand. But let’s keep it low-key. Sit there, maybe, and wait?” He nodded to a bench by the side of the parking lot.
Pauline nodded. “That’s his car right there, so we’ll definitely see him.”
The car, to Carlos’ experienced eye, was likely on its last legs. A ticking bomb for someone without a lot of money, a job too far to walk to, and two little kids to tote around. This wasn’t New York, where he could’ve taken the subway.
They sat on the bench together. Carlos reached for Pauline’s hand again; he was finding it harder and harder to keep any distance between them.
That niggling suspicion that he’d had back at the house was starting to grow. And if he was right, helping Pauline with these kids was more important than ever.
“Oh, I don’t know what I’ll even say to him,” Pauline sighed, squeezing Carlos’ hand. “I’ve t
ried a million times to get him to accept more help, and he won’t.”
“Be honest and sincere,” Carlos advised. “Teenagers can smell it when you’re lying.”
Pauline laughed a little. “I wouldn’t lie.”
That much was already clear. Pauline was a woman of integrity.
Her small fingers clenched on his, and he looked up to see a teenaged boy coming out of the building.
He made his way over towards them, shoulders slumped, a dejected expression on his face. When it became clear that he was about to walk right past them without seeing them, eyes only on his car, Pauline stood up. “Hi, Drew.”
He stopped short, and Carlos saw a quick vulnerable look flash over his face before he covered it with sullenness. “What do you want, Pauline?”
“I just want to talk to you,” Pauline said gently. “I’m worried you’re in trouble and I want to help. That’s all.”
His eyes flickered from Pauline to Carlos. Suspicion settled in. “Who’s that?”
Carlos stood up. “Hi,” he said easily. “Carlos Gonzalez. I’m a friend of Pauline’s.”
“I’ve never seen you before,” Drew said warily.
“I’m from New York. I’m just here in town visiting some old friends of mine from the Service.”
“He’s friends with Nate, you remember him? Carlos helped Eva and her mom with that trouble they were having with Todd,” Pauline said.
Her tone was encouraging, but at the name Todd, Drew backed up a few steps. “I can’t stay,” he said. “I have to go pick up the kids.”
Carlos held up his hands. “We’re not trying to make you stay, or make you do anything,” he said. “We just wanted to let you know—if you need any help, with anything, you can call us. You’ve got Pauline’s number?”
Drew hesitated, and then nodded.
“Or talk to Eva if you need anything,” Pauline added. “She could get in touch with me if you wanted her to.”
“Eva doesn’t need any of my bullshit,” Drew muttered, and backed up a few more steps.
“Eva’s probably smart enough to help you with some of your bullshit, if you’d let her,” Pauline said sharply. It was the first time Carlos had heard her really swear, and it was unexpected, coming out of her well-bred mouth.
That might have been the intention, because Drew looked up, startled. Then he scowled. “I don’t need any help,” he said. “We’re fine.”
“I think you do need help,” Pauline said gently. “I think you’re looking for it from people who don’t care what happens to you. Who could hurt you.”
“How did you—” Drew snapped his mouth shut.
“If you want help from people who do care what happens to you, give us a call,” Carlos broke in gently. He caught Pauline’s eye and twitched his head away.
Pauline looked like she wanted to protest, but she followed his lead. “Anytime, Drew,” she said. “Day or night.”
The two of them walked away together, leaving Drew standing alone by his car. Carlos waited to see if he would call them back, but he didn’t.
Pauline was biting her lip. But she waited until they were well out of earshot to burst out with, “Why did you want to leave? It looked like we were making progress.”
Carlos was incredibly touched by the fact that she’d gone along with his implied suggestion even though she had her doubts.
“Thank you for trusting me,” he said, and Pauline blushed and glanced away.
“I thought you must have a good reason,” she said quietly. “And—well, nothing I’ve been doing has done any good, so.”
“I wanted to leave him on a positive note,” Carlos explained. “If we’d pressed until he clammed up and left, then he’d be thinking defensively, and he wouldn’t want to hear I told you so if he gave in. This way, he’s not resentful, we’ve given him something to think about, and if he contacts us it’ll feel like his own decision.”
Pauline was silent for a minute, thinking. “That’s very smart,” she said finally. “I’ve been chasing him too hard, I think. This way is more effective, I bet. Where’d you learn how to do that?”
“Business,” Carlos said frankly. “You learn a lot about managing people—sometimes people who start out feeling hostile to you. In the best business deals, everyone feels like they had a say and everyone goes away having gained something.”
“Sounds like those sorts of skills would translate really well to managing kids,” Pauline said thoughtfully. She glanced at him with a little bit of a smile.
“It’s true, businessmen are often indistinguishable from children,” Carlos agreed solemnly. “Clearly my talents are being wasted.”
Pauline laughed, pure as a bell. “I certainly would say so.”
It was a joke, but Carlos could see how it could easily become serious. Could we raise kids together?
It seemed like such an enormous thing. Like the prospect of it was too big for any one human to contain.
But people did it all the time. It was the most normal thing in the world. How could those two facts coexist? And yet, it was clear that they did.
“Can we go somewhere?” he asked suddenly. “Somewhere private.”
Pauline’s eyebrows went up, her cheeks turning pink.
“Not for—I didn’t mean—” Carlos shook his head and started laughing at myself. “Please excuse me while I put my foot in my mouth. I’m sorry.”
Pauline started to laugh, too. “It’s all right. I think—well, the fact that I went there so quickly probably shows where my mind is at.” Her blush deepened, but she kept her chin up, meeting his eyes.
Carlos took her hand. “I meant what I said last night,” he said, more seriously. “I don’t want to do anything that we’re not both totally on board with. I just want to go somewhere and talk.”
Although if she did want something more...and it looked like she might...he was ready to taste her all over, make her body thrum with pleasure, and see what she looked like when all that politeness fell away.
Pauline held his gaze, a smile still lingering on her lips. “All right,” she said. “Would you like to come over to my house for some coffee?”
“I would love to,” Carlos said with absolute sincerity.
***
Pauline
As they pulled up, Pauline realized that she hadn’t thought about the fact that she was inviting a probable-millionaire—billionaire?—to her tiny, slightly run-down house at the edge of town.
She’d just been thinking about Carlos, and his warm smile, his big laugh, his soft hands, his kind eyes.
Now, though, she was a little self-conscious. Everything was clean, at least—Pauline spent a lot of time keeping her home exactly how she liked it (or, at least, as close to how she would like it without any little feet running around). Now that her parents were gone, she sometimes had more free time than she really knew what to do with.
It was strange—when she was younger, and when her parents were sick and she was spending all her energy on taking care of them, she could remember yearning for time just to herself, to do just as she wanted. But now, when she was at home, looking around at her clean floors and her bookshelves stuffed with paperbacks, it often just felt...empty.
Then she moved further into the house, and Carlos came in behind her, and nothing felt empty anymore.
Carlos filled any room he was in. He was just so big, and he had such a presence. The whole downstairs suddenly felt warmer, brighter, happier.
He was looking around, and if Pauline had been afraid that the rich man would judge her shabby furniture, it was clear she’d had nothing to fear. He was smiling, and he said to her, “What a lovely home.”
“Thank you,” Pauline said. “I’ve lived here for fifteen years, now.” Since her divorce. Gary had wanted to keep their house, and she hadn’t wanted to live there anymore, anyway. So she’d bought this little one-story place, and had scrubbed the floors and tended the garden and mourned the future she’d thought she’d have.
“A long time.” Carlos was still looking around, examining the bookshelves, picking the picture of her parents off the mantelpiece. “I’ve lived in my apartment in New York for about that long, and it’s never looked as much like a home as this does.”
“Should have put some work into it,” Pauline murmured, and then immediately regretted it—it sounded like she was admonishing him. Of course he could treat his apartment however he wanted.
But he just laughed. “You’re right, I should have,” he agreed.
“Are you going to move somewhere, now?” she asked tentatively. “You said you wanted something new to do. Do you have any idea where that might be?”
“Well,” he said. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“All right,” she said slowly. “Should we sit down?”
It was strange. We need to talk was the bogeyman of the romantic world. It heralded breakups, it’s not you it’s me, confessions of cheating, and all sorts of terrible consequences. She should have been filled with dread from the moment Carlos had said he wanted to go somewhere private just to talk.
But she wasn’t. She was sure, somehow, that this wouldn’t be anything bad. In fact, she was filled with a sense of—whatever the opposite of dread was. Anticipatory joy. She knew, down to her bones, that something wonderful was coming.
Which was ridiculous. Pauline had never believed in psychics or precognition or anything like that. There was no way she could know what was ahead.
But she did.
They sat down on the couch together. Carlos was close, warm, his thigh against hers. He took her hand, enveloping it in his big fingers.
“When I was here before,” he began, “helping Nate and Stella, I saw you at the restaurant. And I felt—drawn to you, somehow. I couldn’t look away. I didn’t understand it at all.”
“I felt the same,” Pauline confessed, her voice low. “I kept watching to see if you’d come back.”
Carlos winced. “I should have said something then. It might have saved me some—but I hadn’t figured it out.”
The joy-bubble that was building in her chest grew a bit larger, a bit brighter. “Figured what out?” she managed.