“That’s because we’re all too terrified,” she told him as she parked in front of the house. “Sunday for practice?”
“Two o’clock. I’ll be here.”
“Thanks, Ron.”
Callie collected her backpack and got out of the car. She used her key to let herself in and paused to marvel at the size and beauty of the house.
She lived here, she thought in amazement. She still wasn’t used to the soaring ceilings and huge rooms. Things were starting to get familiar, but this wasn’t home. She wondered if it ever would be.
Before she made it to the stairs, she heard Grandfather Alberto call her name from the family room off the kitchen.
“Is that you?”
Callie smiled. “It is. I’m back from my driving lesson.”
“Excellent. If you have a minute, come tell me all about it.”
She headed for the back of the house. The family room had a large television on one wall and two huge sofas, along with chairs and end tables and a small reading area by one of the floor-to-ceiling windows. Beyond the manicured lawn and elegant gardens was a big dock and Lake Washington. Today the water was as gray as the sky. She wondered what the view would look like in summer.
Her grandfather sat on one of the sofas. There was a book on the cushion next to him and a tray with little sandwiches, scones, a teapot and two used teacups. A third clean one was still on the tray.
Until coming to live here, Callie hadn’t realized people actually used trays in their day-to-day existence. Didn’t you just carry your plate and glass wherever you needed them to be? But since moving into the Carlesso mansion, she’d seen trays used all the time. And not just the same one over and over. There were different trays for different uses. It was all very strange.
Alberto patted the sofa. “Come sit with me, Callie. Tell me how you’re doing. Keira sat with me after school and now I want to spend time with my other granddaughter.”
Callie impulsively hugged him before sitting down. As soon as her arms closed around him, she became aware of how delicate he was. Keira would say old, and that was probably true. Still, there was something kind about the old man, as if he’d been around long enough to know to treat all living things with respect and affection. He had nothing to prove, nowhere else to be. There was only the moment.
“Tell me about your day. You are happy, yes?” he asked as he poured her tea.
“I am. My day was good. I’m enjoying my driving lessons very much. They’re scary but exciting. I’m settling in.” Or at least trying to. At least she didn’t wake up not knowing where she was. And Keira hadn’t awakened her with screams in four or five nights.
“How’s work?”
She smiled. “Good. I’ve graduated to loading custom baskets. It’s more interesting work. People have unusual tastes.”
Her grandfather chuckled. “Ours is not to judge what they buy but to cash the checks.”
“You’re right. The people I work with are great. I’m making friends.”
“That makes me happy. I want you to be at home with us. This is where you belong.” He touched her cheek. “You remind me of my late wife. She was so beautiful and always had a smile for everyone. When we first started the company and had to work late, she would bring supper for everyone. Now there are computers and robots. I couldn’t begin to know how to run things anymore.”
“Malcolm seems more than capable.”
“He is. He makes me proud.” He looked at her. “I wish I’d found you sooner. I only learned about you a few months ago.” He swallowed. “After my son died, I couldn’t bring myself to go through his things for nearly two years. I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. You couldn’t know.”
“But your life would have been easier. And what about Keira? She could have come here instead of going into foster care.”
She took his hand in hers. “Please don’t spend time thinking about what could have been. We’re here now.”
“Thank you for being so kind. I knew you would be. The influence of your grandmother, I think. Or perhaps your mother.”
Callie smiled. “She was wonderful. So loving and supportive. I wish you could have known her.”
“I wish that, as well. As one gets older, there are more and more regrets. Try not to have them yourself. They’re a bitter taste that never goes away.”
He excused himself to rest before dinner. Callie went upstairs thinking that it really was too bad that her mother had never had the chance to get to know Jerry’s family. She would have enjoyed Alberto and she would have loved the house.
As Callie walked into her room, she thought about all the times she and her mom had played dress up when they were young. They had a box of old clothes, gathered from thrift shops and garage sales. Princess dresses, her mother had always said. They had pretend balls and teas and had danced and laughed until they were exhausted.
Callie sank onto the floor in front of her dresser and opened the bottom drawer. Inside was a small box filled with letters.
When Callie had been convicted and sentenced, her mother had been devastated. Callie’s strongest emotions had been shame and fear. How could she have let that happen? How could she have been so incredibly stupid? She’d ruined her life and for what? Some jerky guy who hadn’t bothered to stick around?
But her mom had been there. She’d promised to visit every week and she had, at first. Not that she’d stopped visiting, but Callie, humiliated and ashamed, had refused to see her. Eventually her mother had stopped making the hours-long trip every Saturday. Instead she’d written letters—each one more loving and cheerful than the next. Letters Callie had read a thousand times as she fought the tears she never allowed herself.
A few months before she was due to be released, the letters had stopped. A neighbor had finally written that the cancer Callie had never known about had claimed her mother. Their small house had been sold to cover medical expenses and Callie was left without a home or anyone who loved her. By the time she’d been released, she’d been determined never to screw up again. Not like she had. She would figure out a way to make her mother proud of her.
Now she touched the stack of letters, but didn’t bother reading any of them. There was no point—she knew them all by heart. Sweet words, motherly advice, charming stories about everyday life and promises to love Callie forever.
Tears burned in her eyes and for once, she didn’t fight them. There was no one to see if she was weak. No one to take advantage, no one to hurt her.
Tears slipped down her cheeks, silent rivers of pain and remorse. If only, she thought, her chest aching. If only she’d had the courage to face her mother in prison. She could have seen her again, could have talked to her, laughed with her, told her she loved her. But she hadn’t and there wouldn’t be a second chance on that mistake, either.
Someone knocked. Callie slammed the drawer shut, then quickly brushed her cheeks before standing and walking to open the door. She expected to find Carmen or Keira, not that her baby sister ever knocked, or even Malcolm. Instead Santiago stood in the hallway.
Despite the emotions still swirling inside of her, she was immediately struck by his sheer size and male beauty. The man was big and strong, with broad shoulders and plenty of muscles. His eyes were dark and penetrating, his mouth, well, there was something very appealing about it. He was still dressed in a suit, so he’d probably come from work, but she had no idea why he was here.
“What happened?” he asked, taking a half step toward her. “Did someone hurt you? Do you need me to deal with them?”
“I have no idea what you’re—” Crap! The tears. She wiped her face, tried to think of a plausible lie, then settled on the truth. “I’m fine. I was just missing my mom. I lost her a few years ago and I was thinking it’s too bad she never got to meet Grandfather Alberto.”
“You sure that’s it?”
“I would. I mean that.”
“I have no idea why you’d bother, but oddly enough, I believe you.” She stepped back and held open the door. “You can come in.”
He hesitated. “It’s your bedroom.”
“We’re not going to have sex, so I don’t see the problem.” She pointed. “There’s a living room area over there. I’ll be sure to stay at least six feet away so you don’t feel threatened.”
He walked into her bedroom. “You don’t threaten me, Callie. Just so we’re clear.”
There was something in his voice—a hint of masculine that had her shivering, which wasn’t good news. There was no way she could do the boy-girl thing. Not with a guy like him. She’d been out of the dating pool in a serious way and had no experience with men as an adult. Not that she could be sure he was here for anything but idle chitchat. Except he had asked her out the last time she’d seen him, so it wasn’t unreasonable to think—
She silently groaned. See? She was right—she was woefully unprepared to be a normal person.
They walked into her sitting area. He took a seat on the sofa and she settled into a chair.
“Do you want me to ask Carmen to bring us coffee or tea or something?” she asked.
“I’m fine.” He looked at her. “You sure you’re all right?”
“I am. It’s just sometimes I miss her a lot.”
“I get that. I lost my dad when I was a kid and it’s still hard.” He loosened his tie, a casual gesture she found unbelievably sexy. “He was poisoned.”
She gasped. “What? How? Poisoned?”
He make a T with his hands. “Sorry. I should be more specific. I grew up in Eastern Washington. There are a lot of farms and he worked on one. The spray they use to kill pests is pretty toxic and he was accidentally poisoned. The guy who owned the farm said he would take care of us and my mom believed him and signed away her right to sue him when he promised her forty thousand dollars.”
He grimaced. “I’m sure it seemed like more than enough money, but she had three little kids and worked for minimum wage herself. It didn’t last and we grew up pretty desperate.”
She remembered what he’d told her before. About the football scholarship and how he’d felt the need to rescue his family. She’d been surprised he’d chosen grad school over the NFL, but he was happy and successful. He’d obviously made the right choice.
“Where’s your mom now?”
“Here. She and my brother and his wife have a couple of houses on a large lot.” He smiled at her. “You’ll meet Paulo. He works at the warehouse. He’s one of the supervisors.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Management? You know how those guys are.”
“Is this where I remind you I’m in management?”
“Really? I’m shocked. Because the suit is so not a giveaway.”
He smiled. “Have dinner with me, Callie.”
There it was again—an invitation. On the one hand he was stunningly handsome, very charming and she could totally relate to his background. On the other hand, he was completely out of her league. Not only because he was successful and smart and a thousand other adjectives she couldn’t think of at that moment, but because of what he’d said about the women he’d dated. He was experienced and she was not. While technically not a virgin, it had been so long that she was pretty sure she could be grandfathered in to the condition.
“What are you scared of?” he asked softly.
“Too many things to list.”
“Give me an example.”
“I don’t know, why me?” She tilted her head. “You barely know me, I’m not that pretty and I work in a factory. I’m not well educated or sophisticated. I have way more emotional baggage than you want to know about. You could have anyone. Why me?”
She hadn’t planned on being that honest, but there was no calling back the words.
He leaned toward her. “You’re right. You’re not that pretty. You’re beautiful. I don’t care about you having a formal education because I’m more interested in who you are as a person. What I know is you just inherited a bunch of money. You could be spending your days figuring out how you’re never going to work again but within what, a week, you had a job. You didn’t take the fake position your brother was going to give you. You insisted on something real. Besides, when I first saw you, I just knew you were someone I had to get to know. I’m listening to my gut.”
If she hadn’t already been sitting, his honest answer would have knocked her on her butt. She was confused, flustered and scared beyond reason, so taking refuge in humor seemed like the safest solution. “Your gut is probably telling you to take an antacid and you’re confusing the message.”
“I don’t think so.” He raised an eyebrow. “What will it be, Callie? Have dinner with me?”
No. No! She couldn’t. There was too much risk and not enough reward. He was saying all kinds of cool stuff, but what happened when he found out the truth? He would be gone so fast, he’d burn rubber on the way out and probably break her heart in the process. No, no, no.
He stood and crossed to her, then pulled her to her feet and cupped her face with his large, strong hands. His gaze was intense, his expression tender and oh, the warmth where he touched her.
“Take a chance on me,” he whispered. “Please.”
She thought of the last guy she’d dated and how she had literally ended up in prison. She thought of her mother who had loved her and died without seeing her only child. She thought of the crappy rooms she’d lived in and how hard it was to start over when no one was willing to let go of the past.
Yes, she should tell him about her past and no, she wasn’t going to. There was a disaster coming, but just for now she was going to be who she would have been if not for a single mistake.
She drew in a breath. “I’ll go out to dinner with you, Santiago.”
He released her face only to grab her around the waist before swinging her in a circle. “That’s great. Friday. No, Saturday. I want to take you out Saturday night.”
“Okay. Text me when and where.”
“I’ll pick you up at seven.”
She nodded because she was afraid if she tried to speak, she would throw up. Maybe she would regardless. Or maybe everything was going to be perfectly fine.
chapter sixteen
Malcolm looked over the report Santiago had prepared, then grimaced. “You’re right. Most of the time I’m okay with that, but I really wanted you to be wrong this time.”
“Me, too.” Santiago sounded as dismayed as Malcolm felt. Lower numbers than expected in the dry soups and drink mix division had triggered an automatic internal audit. That had confirmed what he and his CFO already knew—someone was stealing product. A lot of product.
“It’s coming from the inside,” Santiago added. “There’s no other way it could be happening undetected. Not at that volume. Someone breaking in to steal would show up as a one-time thing. This is ongoing.”
“I know. Should we bring in someone from the outside?”
“What, like a corporate detective?”
Malcolm raised his hands. “I honestly don’t know. I’ve never had to deal with anything like this before. I have to say, I’m more disappointed than mad.” He groaned. “That makes me sound like your mother.”
“There are worse people to sound like. Let me do some looking. I have a few people I trust. I want to see what I can find out before we bring in outside help. This company is like family. I don’t want to believe anyone is screwing us like that.”
“Family, huh?” Malcolm shook his head. “I know what that means. Whoever is doing this is going to be in way more trouble than he has bargained for.”
“Or she.”
“Hell of a time to remind me of
equal opportunity, but yes. The thief could be a she.”
They were in his office. Santiago had scheduled meeting time, which was unusual. Normally they talked to each other when they were available. But the seriousness of the subject matter had changed things.
“Anything else?” Malcolm asked.
“I’m good.” His friend grinned. “How are things with your new girl?”
Malcolm felt himself smile. “Great. Delaney’s amazing. She’s smart and funny and beautiful.”
“You sound like you’re falling for her.”
Malcolm looked at his friend. “You know me better than that.”
“You are cautious.”
More so now, Malcolm thought. Still, there was something about Delaney. “I like spending time with her, but I’m not assuming anything until I’m sure.”
“That’s romantic. You might want to keep your reservations to yourself.”
“I’m asking her to the charity gala.”
Alberto’s Alfresco was a sponsor for a local children’s charity. Once a year there was a fancy evening with dinner, dancing and a charity auction. Tickets were exclusive and sought after and the guests were expected to be generous.
“I look forward to spending some time with her,” Santiago said, then offered a smug smile. “Callie and I are going to dinner tomorrow night.”
“Good luck with that.”
Santiago’s expression hardened. “Was that sarcasm?”
“No,” Malcolm told him sincerely. “I’ll admit we didn’t get along when she first arrived, but she’s growing on me. She’s been very helpful with Keira and our grandfather is completely smitten.”
She’d gotten good reports from her supervisor and from what he’d heard she was well liked on the factory floor. He’d screwed up enough lately to admit that he might have been too quick to judge her.
Santiago picked up the folder in front of him, then put it back down. “As your friend, I want to say, I’ll take good care of her. You have my word.”
Malcolm swore. “Don’t talk to me like that. Of course I trust you.”
When We Found Home Page 19