by Phoebe Conn
Libby made too many jokes about her lack of figure herself to be offended and remained at the table until everyone finished dessert. Then she went looking for Santos, which she had to do too often. He needed a microchip so she could track him like a missing pet. She’d insist upon a daily schedule so she wouldn’t have to chase him down next week.
Santos was in the den, watching a video of his father in a bullring. “Come on in. I watch this at least once a week. My father’s advice was always good, but watching him teaches me more.”
Libby joined him on the sofa. He had the sound turned down low, so there was only a faint murmur from the crowd shouting, “Ole!” She knew Miguel hadn’t died in the ring, but watching him work so close to the bull was still unnerving. “It’s all in the rhythm, isn’t it?”
“Exactly. His every move is smooth. If I’m out of the ring for several weeks, I’m going to lose whatever finesse I had.”
“Do you have videos of your own fights?”
“Yes, but I don’t watch those. All I can see are the mistakes.”
“I doubt you make many.”
He looked at her and grinned. “We’ll see.” He reached for her hand and laced his fingers in hers. His skin was tan and hers fair, but their hands fit together easily. “Maybe I should take last Sunday more seriously and not ask you to stay. You were right to worry about your family’s safety yesterday. If you’re with me, you’re in danger too. It could be too great a risk.”
“We won’t really know that until I’m shot in the heart.”
“Libby!”
He looked horrified, and she leaned close to kiss him. “I’m sorry. I do care what happens to my family, but they’ll soon be back home. I can’t worry about myself.”
He stared at her, taking in the bright sparkle in her eyes and the warmth of her smile. If anything were to happen to her, he’d never forgive himself. “Let’s decide right now that if whoever had the mirror makes what even hints as being another attempt on my life, you’ll go home.”
She glanced toward the video. The bull Miguel had been fighting now lay dead in the dirt. It was a very bad sign. “Only if you’ll come home with me rather than remain here as a target.”
“What am I going to do in Minnesota?”
“You could pose for some promotion photos for my personal trainer web site.”
“You should have your father take photos of me now so I’ll look even better in the ‘after’ shots.”
She eyed him with a skeptical glance. “I can’t work miracles.”
Too amused to be insulted, he grabbed her in a boisterous hug. He’d never dated a woman who made him laugh as often as she did, and he liked it. He released her slowly. “You must have a guy waiting for you at home. What’s he going to say when you stay?”
She pulled back. “The senior I dated last year graduated in May and moved to New York, so taking your job offer won’t break anyone’s heart.”
Her hair fell softly over her shoulders, and he sifted the ends through his fingers. “He didn’t ask you to go with him?”
“No, I need to finish my last year of school. Staying in Spain for the summer is just a tangent.”
“Am I only a tangent?” That was so absurd he couldn’t believe she’d said it.
“This is why we need a contract, Santos. We can tease each other and have fun, but I’m leaving at the end of August, and you might be really glad to see me go.”
He leaned toward her, but her father heard their low voices and looked in. “Let’s write up the contract and get it over with.”
“Yes, sir, let’s do it,” Santos agreed, but he wouldn’t allow any mention of tangents.
Saturday morning, Santos left early with Manuel to pick up the twins and Fox at the airport. When they came home, Maggie squealed as loudly as her half sisters. “I didn’t know you were coming, and Fox, how wonderful of you to be here too.”
Fox was handsomely dressed in his navy blue school blazer and gray slacks, but his white-blond hair was spiked in his familiar style. He managed a half-smile and shrugged, as noncommittal as always until Patricia came down the stairs. She paused at the bottom step and looked him up and down, slowly.
“You’re awfully cute. I sure hope we aren’t related,” she said.
Fox blushed a deep red. “I’m not related to anyone here. Santos just pretends I am.”
The twins were in black tights and flowing print tops with their hair in ribbon-festooned ponytails. Perry clutched a photo album. “We’re Maggie’s sisters, and we’ll be working with Alber Elbaz at Lanvin.” They turned back to back and linked arms. “He saw a photo of us and instantly planned a whole campaign featuring us. We’re beginning with perfume ads for French Vogue.”
Libby came in from her run in time to hear a mention of Vogue as the twins showed off their photos. Patricia had entranced a blond kid in a blue blazer. Santos stood back, looking proud. She wondered how much of the family he’d produce for the wedding.
Her mother came up behind her. “Who are they?” she asked.
“More of Miguel’s children, although the boy says he isn’t.”
“Of course, they’d be related to Maggie. How strange this all is, like attending a family reunion and discovering you’re in the wrong hotel. I can’t wait to go home.”
Libby understood exactly how her mother felt. Everything was so comfortable at home, where they weren’t surprised by what lay around every corner. Maggie was laughing with the fair-haired twins. They looked like they were Gundersons too.
At their mother’s urging, Maggie had written a schedule for the day. They planned to do each other’s hair and manicures, silly stuff they’d do together for the last time with their mother before Maggie left them for what could be forever. The twins were jumping up and down, Fox couldn’t take his eyes off Patricia, and Libby met Santos’s gaze. He nodded and remained where he stood. She edged her way around the others to him and pulled him aside.
“Are there more of Miguel’s children coming?”
“No, I invited Enrique and Maria Luisa, but they don’t care much for the rest of us and won’t be here.”
“That’s a shame.”
Santos shrugged. “Not really. They’re mad about the will and aren’t speaking to me.”
“Doesn’t that bother you?”
“No, not at all. Is there anything more I can do today? I have the champagne chilling, and Mrs. Lopez made certain the crystal flutes sparkle as beautifully as the rest of our crystal.”
She’d forgotten all about the champagne. “Thank you. I think everything’s done. Tomas was already decorating the cake when I went out to run. The flowers should be here at three. We have our clothes. What are you wearing?”
He laughed and touched her arm. “Don’t worry. I own suits that aren’t covered with sequins.”
“I’m sure you do. Maybe you should keep an eye on the twins.”
“They’ve lived here, Libby. They can entertain themselves, and Patricia is amusing Fox.”
“Let’s hope she doesn’t amuse him too much. What’s the age of consent in Spain?”
He grimaced slightly. “Thirteen.”
Her eyes widened. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“No, it’s thirteen, but you don’t need to tell Patricia, and I doubt Fox knows.”
She gave him a slow, appraising glance. “I’ll bet you were really something at thirteen.”
“That depends on how you define ‘something’. I was tall but too skinny for girls to notice if I turned sideways. By the summer I was seventeen, I’d grown up enough to have pretty girlfriends, but I’d had a long wait. Fox is seventeen, and I’m as close to a parent as he has, but he’s so jaded he wouldn’t listen if I gave him a lecture on safe sex.”
“Do it anyway,” she said, then whispered, “I’m glad today has finally arrived. I’m okay with Maggie marrying Rafael. Are you?”
His eyes narrowed. “No, but I can’t stop it.”
“Sounds like the blues. Maybe you s
hould work it into your song.” She squeezed his arm and rejoined her mother just as her father came downstairs. “What are you going to do today, Dad?”
“Absolutely nothing. I’m going for a walk. I’ll find a quiet café and read for a couple of hours. If I get ambitious, I’ll take a nap before the wedding.”
Libby wished she could do the same. Santos made a point of introducing the twins and Fox to everyone. The others all looked so relaxed, but their plans for the day kept running through her mind in a frantic loop. They were going to rehearse about ten minutes before the wedding, but for an informal ceremony on the beach, that ought to be enough.
She went upstairs to shower and dress in clean shorts and a top. She was doing her toenails in a bright pink polish when Patricia rushed into their room.
“Fox is so hot I can’t believe Santos didn’t tell me about him. He’s only seventeen, but that’s old enough for me today. He’s from England and goes to some posh prep school near London. We’re going out on the beach with the twins. When do I have to come in?”
Libby watched her sister toss through her clothes, searching for her bikini. “You left it hanging in the shower. Better be back here by two.”
“Two it is. If I see Victoria on the beach, may I invite her to the wedding?”
Libby gave her little toenail a last swipe of color. “Won’t you want Fox all to yourself?”
“She wouldn’t be interested in him. She likes men.”
“The answer is no. This is a family wedding.”
“All right, but anyone can watch a wedding on the beach, can’t they?”
“I suppose, but you mustn’t mention it to Victoria or anyone else, or we’ll have helicopters circling overhead.”
Patricia left the bathroom, wearing her bikini and carrying a white cover-up and hat. “Does any of this seem real to you?”
“No, not since Santos picked me up at the airport in the Hispano-Suiza. That car tells the whole story.”
“Fantasyland,” Patricia called on her way out the door.
That’s exactly what it was, and she’d signed a contract to extend her stay.
After Linda had dressed that afternoon, she looked in Maggie’s room. “Do you have a minute?”
“Of course, come in,” her daughter responded, and her mother stepped over the threshold.
Linda handed her a velvet box. “These were a gift from Miguel when we married, and I saved them for you.”
Surprised, Maggie opened the oblong box and found a beautiful string of pearls with a diamond clasp. “These are gorgeous!” She hugged her mother and turned so Linda could fasten the clasp.
“They’re perfect for you,” Linda exclaimed. “They could be the something old. There’s blue in your bolero. Do you still need something borrowed?”
“I do.”
Linda handed her a lace handkerchief. “Tuck this into your neckline, and if you need a hankie, you’ll have one.”
“Thank you, but I’m too excited to cry.”
“I was too, both times. You’re sure about this? If you’re not, we can all fly home together.”
“I’m positive. Please don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine.”
Linda managed a shaky smile. “I’m your mother. I’ll always worry about you.”
Maggie let her go and turned to study her reflection in the mirror above the dresser. There was no way she could have refused such a loving gift, but she doubted she’d ever wear the pearls after today. Maybe today was all that mattered, and a gift her father had given her mother to celebrate their love truly did belong with her.
Chapter Seven
An hour before sunset, the sky glowed a glorious golden peach and the nearly deserted beach retained the day’s luscious warmth. The members of the wedding party were dressed beautifully, including the twins in short pink puffs of brocade. Maggie’s tiered lace gown had a matching pale blue-and-silver-beaded bolero, and she’d added a dozen silver bangles on each wrist. Patricia and Libby had styled their hair in crowns of curls and were as pretty as the roses they carried. Their mother had left her apricot suit hanging in the closet and chosen the long floral skirt and pale sweater she’d purchased in El Sol y La Luna boutique down the beach.
Rafael and his best man, Dr. Claudio Mendez, were in gray. Peter and Santos were in a darker gray, while Fox wore his blazer and slacks. The string quartet and flute were seated on the patio, and their lilting classical tunes carried on the sea breeze. The Unitarian Universalist minister, Hannah Torres, wore a light blue linen suit with a white silk stole. She frequently officiated at tourists’ weddings on the beach and conducted the brief indoor rehearsal with reassuring charm.
Libby thought they’d made everything as beautiful as it could possibly be. Their mother had spun their preliminary plans into a perfect evening. They couldn’t have done it without her and Santos, who was also a master with detail. Every day she discovered something new about him, and for a man who’d fascinated her from first sight in the airport, that just wasn’t fair.
Once Cirilda and her ex-husband arrived, Alfonso helped Santos across the sand, and they were ready to begin. Perry whispered to Maggie, “I wish Father could have been here.”
Maggie wound her arm around Peter’s. “My father is here. Shall we go?”
Peter hung back. “I’m not ready for this, and I’ll have to do it two more times. How can any father stand to give away his daughter?”
Maggie hugged him. “You don’t give away the love, Dad, nor mine for you. Nothing will ever change how we feel about each other.”
“Damn.” Peter pulled out his handkerchief and blew his nose. “I hope Rafael will be the joy to you your mother has always been for me.”
“He will be,” Maggie assured him. They were waiting at the door behind the main staircase, and Libby leaned out to signal the musicians to begin the wedding march. The twins went first, an impromptu addition, and created a rose-petal path. Patricia attempted a stately walk, and Libby followed, her lime-green skirt brushing the sand. Their mother had already taken her place near Santos, Alfonso, Cirilda and Nadia, the best man’s wife.
The group formed a welcoming half circle, and from where Libby stood as maid-of-honor, she had a clear view of everyone. She’d never seen Rafael wear such a wide grin, but Maggie’s smile was equally joyous as she walked toward him on their father’s arm. Their father still looked emotional, but once he’d reached their mother and taken her hand, he took a deep breath to steady himself. Santos gazed down at his shoes as though he couldn’t bear to watch. Maybe, like Perry, he was remembering Miguel and missing him terribly.
The romantic setting and the minister’s intimate tone drew them all into the wedding’s enchantment with a beautiful ceremony, with touching poetry and graceful blessings. With Maggie completely unable to write her side of the vows, Reverend Torres led them in the traditional promises. Maggie had expected the simple wedding band they had picked out together, but Rafael slipped a wide gold band with bezel-set rubies on her finger. Fashioned after rings once worn by Spanish royalty, it looked perfect on her hand.
He smiled. “I was born loving you, and I’ll love you beyond forever.”
Tears flooded Libby’s eyes, and her mother needed the lace handkerchief she’d been wise to hold. Peter sniffed loudly, but Maggie was clear-eyed. She slid the gold band that should have matched her ring on Rafael’s finger.
“I love you with all my heart and soul, and I always will.”
“May the joy you share today bless your union all your days,” the minister said. “You are now husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”
Maggie threw her arms around Rafael’s neck, and he lifted her off her feet for a kiss he hurried to end before the tide came in. Everyone moved close to congratulate the pair. Peter had taken photos of the girls earlier and now photographed Maggie with Rafael. “Hurry before we lose the light.”
As soon as her father was satisfied, Libby moved toward Santos. “Let me help you inside.
” She lowered her voice. “Couldn’t you bear to watch?”
“I felt a horrible sense of déjà vu. My father married four times, and I had a part in three of the ceremonies. He always sounded convincing, but he never honored his vows.”
“Do you expect the same from Rafael?” she whispered.
“I don’t know what to expect from him. He could be wild, or perfectly devoted. We’ll have to wait and see.”
“I’m hoping for the best.” They’d reached the door, and she held it open for him.
“You should go upstairs and put on your brace.”
“I’ll be all right.”
“You’re paying for my advice. Don’t you intend to take it?”
“The contract begins tomorrow, but fine, let’s go up in the elevator.”
“Will it hold two?” She followed him down the back hall.
He opened the door and pulled back the sliding gate. “The maids use it for laundry, the vacuum cleaner or whatever they need. It will easily hold us.”
He let her enter first, pulled the door closed and slid the gate shut. The control panel had three buttons. He pressed the top one, and the elevator began a slow assent with a low, throbbing hum. He hit the stop, and caught her between his outstretched arms.
“Santos!” She giggled. “Is this what you really wanted?” She leaned close to give him a slow deep kiss. His scent drew her in, made her long for more, but not now, not yet. His lashes were so long and thick they shaded his eyes but didn’t hide their teasing gleam. “I want to help Maggie and Rafael celebrate. Let’s just get your brace and join the party.”
He leaned in to kiss the tender spot behind her ear. “They won’t miss us for a while.”
His breath tickled her skin. His every touch was magic, but she called his bluff. “What are you imagining, that I’ll hike up my dress and hook my knee over your hip while you unzip your pants? Do you have a condom?”
Clearly embarrassed, he drew back. “No.”
“That’s very poor planning, but it doesn’t matter. They’d miss us long before I’d be through with you. Don’t rush me. You’re worth the whole night.” She leaned around him to hit the Up button.