“I’m glad.” She gripped the sides of her dress to hide her anxiety. “Have you made a decision yet?”
“Well, I was planning to have Raoul call you Monday. But since we are all here celebrating a magnificent win…”
She caught her breath.
“We should celebrate another—congratulations, Señorita Craig!” He grabbed her and kissed her on both cheeks. “The Bruguera Boutiques would be pleased and honored to carry your jewelry.”
“Oh, thank you, Señor Bruguera!” She leaped up and hugged him around his beefy neck. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”
“Please, call me Enric.”
“Oh, of course. And I’m Ashley.” She couldn’t stop hugging the man. If grouchy Raoul had been there as well, she would have kissed his sourpuss too. “Beck, Beck, did you hear? My jewelry is going to be in Enric’s lovely boutiques. My designs!” She abandoned Enric and wrapped her arms around Beck. “Oh, my gosh! I can’t believe it.”
“Neither can I.” Beck’s arms had automatically come around her, but he wasn’t really returning her hug. They parted and she noticed his face had hardened into a cold expression that she had never seen before. She quickly turned to Enric.
“What happens next?” she asked Enric.
“Raoul will send you contracts to read early next week. After the lawyers are happy with the paperwork, we start our relationship. I know you are familiar with the American clientele but I would like you to travel to our boutiques in Barcelona and Nice soon.” He made a uniquely Spanish shrug. “The European ladies, they sometimes prefer slightly different styles.”
“Oh, my.” Ashley grinned like crazy. A steady contract plus a trip to Europe? She couldn’t believe how wonderful it all sounded. It was her dream come true after all these years of generic frozen dinners, cans of soup and cold cereal for dinner. Heck, Teddy got better food than she did. “I’ll look for the papers soon,” she promised.
“Wonderful.” Enric kissed her on each cheek again. “I must tell you, Señorita Ashley, it has been many years since a designer was brave enough to make such arrangements to sell me herself—her designs,” he corrected. “And to think you went to all this trouble to get into the Bella Florida Polo Club. Brava, Ashley, brava.” He gave a little bow and returned to the party.
Ashley had the feeling her party was over. “Beck—”
He kept his tone low to not attract attention in the middle of the ballroom, but his words might as well have been shouted. “So this is why you came here? Not to spend time with your friend, not to watch our polo tournament, but to stalk that man to sell your jewelry?” His voice dripped disdain, as if she were selling gold chains in a tacky sidewalk kiosk.
“Please, Beck, let’s talk about this outside.” She tried to guide him away from the crowd, but he shook her off. His eyes were cold chips of amber set in his hard golden face.
“No, tell me now.” He wouldn’t budge.
She took a deep breath and told him how she had been struggling along and how the fire next door was the last straw. He didn’t seem to understand her desperation, though.
“Why didn’t you tell me that your shop burned down? That your business was in danger of bankruptcy?”
She looked around and saw the other guests beginning to stare in their direction. Beck’s mother was making her way toward them, an expression of concern on her face. Probably that Ashley would embarrass her golden boy after his great triumph. But Beck had insisted they air their dirty laundry in public, so if he got a smelly sock slapped across his face, it was his fault.
“Because I was embarrassed, that’s why! I was trying to sell lovely, expensive jewelry in a strip mall between a cigar store and an insurance agency, and it wasn’t working. I had no idea what to do except go along with Tisha’s plan to meet Enric Bruguera at the polo club to look at my designs.”
“Ever heard of small business loan assistance?”
“I have tons of assets on paper! But my landlord won’t accept a pair of sapphire earrings for rent, and the grocery store doesn’t have a precious metals option when the cashier hits the total button.” She gestured around the polo club in frustration. “You might be in the same situation some day. How many of your assets are tied up in your horses? If you ever get short on cash, do you plan to give one pony to your accountant and another to your mortgage company?”
“No, of course not!” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I would have other options.”
His mother touched his sleeve. “Beckett, is everything all right?”
“Just a minute, Mother. Ashley has been telling me about how she used me to further her career.”
“I have built my career on my own—unlike you, who have inherited everything and earned nothing.”
Beck’s mother winced but didn’t disagree.
She clenched her fists and moved closer, forcing herself not to react to his scent—and the scent of their lovemaking a few minutes ago. How had things come undone so quickly? “You have the option of a rich family who can bail you out of almost anything. I have no parents and the only family I have I borrowed from Letitia. I will not borrow money from her as well.”
“Stubborn pride? Is that all that kept you from asking?”
“You talk to me about stubborn pride? You’re the one assuming I only spent time with you to get access to some jeweler. That I lured you with wild sex to attend the polo club events.” She shook her head. “You must think I’m some kind of scheming slut. My God, Beck, if I were that good an actress I would have gone to Hollywood and not bothered busting my ass at this stupid jewelry thing.” Her voice broke at the last few words.
“Ashley…” He reached for her but she backed away.
“No, don’t. Let’s end our business arrangement now. I won’t come around here anymore and you won’t touch me. That way we have no misunderstandings, all right?” She reached into her silver purse and handed him her club guest pass. “Please turn that in for me. I got my hair done at the spa a couple times, so you can send the bill for that to my apartment. I’ll repay you as soon as possible.”
“Oh, no, my dear, please,” his mother interjected. “Beckett, this seems like a terrible misunderstanding with your nice young lady.”
“Obviously he doesn’t think of me that way, but I appreciate the kindness.”
Ashley nodded to Mrs. Emery and walked down the stairs to the front portico, where an idle livery driver was more than happy to run her home.
She refused to cry as he settled her into the backseat and drove away from the ball. The clock had struck midnight for Cinderella and it was time to go back to reality.
BECK WAS STILL DUMBFOUNDED as she dashed past him. “Ashley, where are you going?”
“She’s leaving you, of course.” His mother put her hands on her hips. “Honestly, Beckett, I wonder if the nanny dropped you on your head when you were an infant. It was before nanny cams, so we’ll never truly know.”
His father had finally realized something was afoot and came up behind his mother. “I say, Beck, what’s the brouhaha?”
“Later, Dad.” He ran down the stairs and saw her pale face in the backseat of a town car. He raced after her along the lawn. He tripped over a hidden sprinkler head. “Ow!” The car gained speed and disappeared down the drive. He rolled onto his back, clutching a knee that had already been bruised in the match. He let rip a few more curses, not caring who heard.
Diego loomed over him, the flickering lights making him even more devilish than usual. “What the hell? I can understand you rolling around in the grass with Ashley, but alone? People are gonna get the wrong idea.”
“Shut up and help me stand,” he gritted out. Diego extended a hand and hauled Beck to his feet. “I need to find Ashley.”
“Sí, I saw her rushing away. Is she coming back?”
Beck snorted. “She is gone. Permanently gone. She used me to get into the club to meet some hotshot jeweler from Barcelona.”
“O
h, Enric Bruguera?”
“You know that son of a bitch?”
Diego shrugged. “All the girls like his jewelry. Not that I’ve ever bought any. You need mucho dinero for that.”
“So you’d be okay with a woman using you to better her own career?”
“Amigo, I would be happy to let Ashley Craig use me however she wanted.”
With a blistering Spanish curse, Beck dived for his former friend and the men fell to the ground.
“Beck, you maniac! Get the hell off me!” Diego was laughing his ass off, though, which enraged Beck further. Diego buried his face into Beck’s shoulder so he couldn’t get in a good punch.
“Let me get at you, you little…” Beck grabbed Diego’s shoulders and tried to force him down, but Diego clutched him harder.
“Beckett Emery! Honestly, do I have to turn the hose on you?” His aunt Mimi stood over them, her hands on her hips. His shocked parents and a goggle-eyed crowd had gathered behind her. Beck realized what their little tableau must look like: him in the grass on top of Diego, Diego holding onto him for dear life.
“Ummm…” Beck just knew he was beet-red. The guests behind his aunt giggled and whispered behind their hands. When things couldn’t get any worse, the sprinkler head he’d tripped over decided to get its own revenge and promptly fired a jet of water into his face.
“Well, that will cool you off.” Mimi shook her head in disgust and turned away. “Hey, haven’t you people ever seen a fistfight before? Not much of one, but that’s what it was.”
Diego finally let go of Beck and fell wheezing on the ground, laughing too hard to breathe. Beck scraped together the shreds of his dignity and struggled to his knees. His father helped him to his feet. “Thanks, Dad.”
His father slapped him on the back. “Buck up, champ. It’s always darkest before the dawn.”
“Beckett, are you hurt?” His mother brushed a wet lock of hair out of his face.
“Just a bruise.” Just his pride.
What a humiliating night: finding out Ashley had only been hanging around with him to get access to that Barcelonan jeweler, having her walk out on him when he confronted her, and now the whole polo club thought he and Diego had something on the side. “I’ll check on the ponies before I go home.”
His dad nodded approvingly, but his mother still wore a frown of concern. “Please, dear, is there anything we can do?”
Surprisingly his father stepped in. “Not now, Madeline. Sometimes a man just needs to have some time alone.”
That was good enough to turn her focus to her husband. “Is that why you live on your boat six months out of the year?”
He kissed her forehead. “I’m just waiting for you to join me, Maddy.”
“Oh, Preston.” His mom melted. “Do you really want me to come sailing with you?”
“Of course. We’ll set sail once everything is settled.” He gave Beck a pointed stare. “Beck will be fine, won’t you?”
“Yes, just fine.” He limped toward the stables, knowing he had just lied to his father.
“KNEW I’d find you here.”
Beck stopped petting Caesar’s muzzle and turned to look over his shoulder at his aunt. “Hey, Mimi.”
She stomped toward him. If she cared that her gray silk dress was dragging through the stable’s dust, she certainly didn’t let on.
“You know, Beck, everyone says you’re so smart, but for the life of me I don’t know why.”
“Mimi, I don’t want to be rude—”
“Why not? I am.”
He snorted. “Okay: butt out.”
“No.” She stopped beside him, her bright-blue eyes flashing.
“What do you mean, ‘no’? You never stick your nose in my business.”
“True,” she mused. “I leave all that messy emotional stuff to Bootsie—much easier that way. Your mother has tried coaxing you into taking some of the business load off her shoulders, but doesn’t want to scare you off. I, however, have no agenda aside from seeing you grow into the man you should be. Beckett, my dear, you have come to what the touchy-feely idiots call a turning point. Are you going to continue your current career path of charming, shallow young man to its inevitable conclusion as an aging roué?”
He winced. “Geez, Mimi.”
She shrugged. “At least I didn’t say ‘dirty old man.’”
“You just did. And I am not shallow.”
“No, you’re not, but you’ve done your best to convince the world that you are, and hell if I know why.”
“Is that really what people think of me?” He gripped the top rail of Caesar’s stall.
“Most of the people we know don’t think, Beck. You understand that,” Mimi scoffed. “What’s important is your family, your friends—and your girlfriend.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Not anymore, you don’t!” She slugged him in the shoulder. “Tell me, Beck, what did she do that was so unforgivable?”
“She used me to meet Enric Bruguera to sell him her jewelry designs.”
“Half the people here use the club to make business contacts. Why was this different?”
“Because…because…” He struggled for words to explain her betrayal.
“Because, you poor sap, you love her.”
“Love,” he automatically spat.
“Yes, love. Don’t feel bad. It makes boneheads of us all. Bootsie went overboard with her baker’s dozen of husbands, and I drove away the only man who ever loved me.” She said that last phrase matter-of-factly. “He wanted to marry me, but I let stupid pride get in my way.”
That was the first he’d heard of that, but from the faraway look in Mimi’s eyes, it still bothered her.
“Is this the point where you tell me not to repeat your mistakes?”
That wiped the wistful expression from her face, which was his intention. “No, this is the point where I take my riding crop and beat your ass until the mere sight of a saddle will make you cry.” She huffed out an indignant breath. “Don’t be a dumbass, Beck. If you can’t man up enough to start making a real life for yourself, not even my riding crop will knock any sense into you.”
15
“THAT UPTIGHT, rude bastard Beck Emery needs to come down to earth to live with the rest of us mortals.” Tisha paced as best as she could in Ashley’s living room considering that Ashley was using it as her full jewelry studio. Despite Tisha’s long flight from Buenos Aires, she looked surprisingly fresh in a lime-colored tank top and black shorts. Ashley felt haggard in comparison in her old college T-shirt and gray yoga pants.
“Why should he? It probably looks pretty good from there.” Ashley stared grimly at the wax carving of a lily-pad brooch she was working on. Fortunately lily-pad leaves were relatively smooth but she did need to add some veining to make it look more realistic. She picked up a small carving knife.
“And you.” Tisha whirled to point at her. “Why are you so calm?”
“Because my brand-new lawyer called this morning to tell me the contracts with Bruguera Boutiques are all signed and legal.”
Tisha squealed and dragged Ashley to her feet. She grabbed Ashley’s shoulders and hugged her. Ashley tried to hug her back, but wound up doing more of an apathetic pat on the back.
Tisha stopped and peered into Ashley’s eyes. “What is wrong with you? You saved your career. Why aren’t you happy?”
She shrugged off Tisha’s grip and sat at her workbench. “I am. See? That’s why I need to get to work.” She picked up her knife and started scraping at the lily-pad wax.
“It’s him, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Enric is a demanding boss, but it’s a relief to stop all the hassle of running the shop, paying rent, meeting payroll—”
“Not Enric—that rotten Beck Emery!”
Ashley’s embossing tool slipped, gouging a deep groove into the soft wax leaf. “He is not rotten!” Ashley snapped. “He is smart and funny and kind. He even founded that stable for disabled ride
rs—did you know that?”
“What stable?” Tisha wasn’t part of the horsy set.
“It’s a wonderful stable. They take kids with disabilities and help them ride horses. Oh, Tisha, it was great to see how happy they were. And it was all Beck’s doing.”
“Why doesn’t he say anything about it?” Tisha demanded. “Why keep up the whole playboy act, the whole living-off-mommy’s money thing? He must have much more depth to him if you’re in love with him.”
“Oh, he does—” Ashley started to agree until she heard the last half of Tisha’s sentence. “Wait, who said I was in love with him?” Her stomach tightened and she stood up from her bench to stretch it out. “I never said anything about loving him.”
Tisha’s big brown eyes were full of sympathy. “No, you never did. And I doubt you ever would say anything, so I’m saying it first. You love that man, warts and all.”
Ashley’s knees weakened and she collapsed on the couch. “I can’t love a man after only a couple of weeks with him.”
“No, I’d say it was love at first sight.” Tisha sat next to her and put her arm around Ashley’s shoulders. “Chica, I was there when that bolt of lightning struck you two.”
A sob ripped from Ashley’s depths and she put her fist to her mouth in shock.
Tisha yanked her hand away as if Ashley were one of her toddlers. “Look at you! Your first honest emotion of the day and you are literally stuffing it down. Stop!”
“No. I’m fine.” In reality, her living room was blurring as she blinked quickly.
“You are not. What kind of Cuban are you?” Tisha demanded. “Cry! Rage! Throw things—I’ll duck. God knows I had enough practice growing up with my mother. Lose your temper! Scream at the sun, howl at the moon.”
Ashley shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Why the hell not?”
Her voice came out in a whisper. “Because I’ll shatter into a million pieces with no one to put them together.”
“Oh, baby.” Tisha’s own eyes filled with tears and that was the last straw.
Knowing the Score Page 14