Billionaire Triplets Matchmakers

by Mia Caldwell

  “Hasta luego!” Joan and Lissa called as the two women drove off.

  When the car was gone, Javier helped Lissa and Joan load the boys into the minivan, each of them into their own car seat, and stowed in the strollers in the back. They left the city center and headed back towards the house in L’Eixample.

  The boys were quiet, as they often were when in their car seat, and Lissa took advantage of the peace to call their mother. She left a message explaining why Joan would be staying over at the house and that they looked forward to seeing her the following morning.

  With Javier’s help, they carried the groggy boys inside. It took almost an hour to get them changed, fed and back to sleep in their cribs.

  “Did you ever hear from Julio?” Joan asked after they’d gone into the kitchen and made some tea.

  “He texted me and said that he wasn’t going to make it home,” she said. Joan could tell that her sister wasn’t happy was this news, but was trying to act like it was no big deal.

  “Are you going to be all right?” Joan asked.

  “Of course, I’m going to be fine. Last minute issues with the project, no doubt. He’ll meet us at the country house tomorrow. Nothing to be concerned about.” she added. Joan knew the deep furrow between her sister’s beautiful brows was proof that Lissa was very worried indeed, but she didn’t want to belabor the point.

  “Well, sis, you better go to bed,” Joan said as she washed their cups and laid them upside down on a drying mat. “I’ll be in the guest room downstairs, so if the boys wake up I’ll take care of them. You’re the bride and it’s going to be a long day tomorrow, you’re gonna need all the beauty sleep you can get.”

  “Thanks a lot, sis,” Lissa said, sardonically, but yawned and nodded, turning towards the steps.

  Joan faked a yawn of her own, but sleep was the farthest thing from her mind. She had things to accomplish before morning.

  Chapter Thirteen

  JOAN WASHED HER FACE and changed into a black turtleneck jeans. She threw on her camouflage beige and brown military jacket, laced up her Doc Martin boots, slicked her hair back into a tight ponytail and pulled her black wool beanie down past her ears. She looked in the mirror and realized was dressed for cat burglarizing, although she had no intention of stealing anything.

  It wouldn’t be stealing if Antonio still had her sister’s thousand dollars - it would be liberating.

  As soon as she came out of her room she hesitated, doubt stabbing at her. Could she face him and not be seduced by him? She needed to be back before anyone knew she was gone.

  Not willing to move ahead with her plan or go back to her room and give up on the idea, Joan decided to check on the triplets.

  They were all fast asleep except for Marco, who was standing in the crib. He reached out for her the moment he saw her.

  “Hi Marco. Can’t sleep?” she asked as she scooped him up and took him to the rocking chair.

  Marco smiled and pulled at her hair, then started to doze off. Joan knew that it would take a few minutes of rocking to get him to sleep so she pulled out her cell phone. She’d meant to call a cab and have it meet her around the corner. She’d go over to Antonio’s hotel, knock on his door and try and get the money, then come straight back.

  With Marco in her arms she realized that she couldn’t do anything so foolish. How could she risk another interaction with Antonio after the way she’d reacted before? What if he tried to seduce her back into his bed? She shook away the thought. She was done with Antonio Ferraro as a lover. That ship had sailed, when he walked out on her in the middle of the night, taking her money with him.

  Even if she could resist his seduction, was it safe to go there by herself? Maybe she could ask someone to go with her. But, who?

  She could call Javier, the family driver, but he was loyal to Julio. Surely it would get back to Lissa, and how would she react?

  No, there had to be another way.

  She rocked the chair harder. Marco was fidgeting, not falling asleep - his eyes were wide open and fixed on hers. “What do you think I should do, Marco?” she whispered.

  He tried to grab her phone.

  “You want me to call someone?”

  He used two hands, stretching to try and grab the phone.

  “Okay, but who?” Joan asked she swiped the phone on. Butterflies took flight in her stomach. There were several text messages waiting for her. Were they from Antonio? Was he trying to explain what happened? Maybe it was all a big misunderstanding.

  She felt a pain in her stomach when she saw that the messages were from her new AA friend. It reminded her that she’d invited Raul to be her plus one on a whim to get back at Antonio. She couldn’t remember why. He’d sent four messages. Why so many?

  She imagined what they night say - he’d gotten the wrong idea about how she felt about him and was already planning their future wedding. Shit. “Darn it, Marco, how could I have been so stupid?”

  Marco cocked his head, giving her a curious look. It wasn’t an expression Joan had ever seen before. Despite herself, she couldn’t help but laugh.

  “You’re right, Marco, I need to be brave. The least I can do is read what he wrote. You want me to read it to you?”

  Marco’s face lit up.

  “Okay, just let me read it first and make sure it’s okay for baby ears.” Joan poked her finger into his belly, marveling at how much less chubby Marco was compared to his two brothers. Marco smiled. He liked having his belly poked.

  While she tickled his belly with one hand she scanned the message. It didn’t look like any kind of dating talk or flirting - mostly thank you stuff - so she started to read aloud in a voice low enough not to wake up Marco’s sleeping brothers.

  “Dear Joan,” she began, and then to explain things to Marco she added. “This is from a new friend of your Auntie Joan’s. I’m helping him to meet your papa for business. He wanted to come with me to your parent’s wedding. He’s just texting to thank me.”

  Marco didn’t look happy.

  Maybe it was gas.

  She started over. “Thanks again for the invite. I can’t wait to meet Julio Torres in person. I owe you!”

  Joan put down her phone and leaned back in the rocking chair.

  “Well, that was nicer than I expected. What do you think, Marco?”

  At that moment, Marco decided to straighten out his legs and body as stiff as a board.

  “What are you doing?” Joan asked, laughing a little.

  He relaxed, then reached for the phone, again. “Are you telling me I should ask him for a favor? What favor?”

  Joan was just kidding around with Marco, but she had a flash of an idea. If Raul came with her to visit Antonio, there would be zero risk that she’d be tempted back into Antonio’s bed. Also, since he was a fellow AA member, no matter how things went with Antonio he’d help her keep her away from a drink. She might as well take him up on his offer of a favor now, it wasn’t like she’d have the opportunity once they moved to the country house for the honeymoon, or to Milan, or once she was back in New York. It was a win-win, he wouldn’t have owed her anything for the ticket or introduction.

  Joan chewed on the idea. What if was looking for a relationship? Would he get the wrong idea?

  No, not if she made it clear as soon as she got him on the phone.

  She looked at the clock on the wall. It was almost eleven o’clock, getting late. What if he was already in bed?

  If she told him she wasn’t interested in dating, he might not be willing to honor the favor tonight. Also, what if he wasn’t trying to have a relationship? Maybe he only wanted to meet Julio and nothing more - it would be embarrassing if she presumed otherwise and was wrong.

  She checked the date time stamp on the text, then hit reply.

  “This is good news, Marco,” she said. “He sent this text less than thirty minutes ago, so I bet he’s still up.

  What do you think? Should I call him?”

  Marco looked honestly
confused. “Should I call Raul?”

  He shook his head violently and let out a whimper.

  Joan’s eyes widened. “Marco, honey, what’s wrong? Are your ears hurting?”

  She propped him up so she could get a better view of his ears under the light and looked inside. She moved her fingers close to his ears and pressed gently, watching his face for signs of pain.

  Marco’s eyes were narrowed and he didn’t look happy, but there were no obvious indicators of a looming ear infection.

  “Well, I think you’re going to be all right, little man,” she said, relieved, thinking how Lissa would react if the triplets all got sick just before the wedding.

  Ear infections were bad at any time. She checked the other ear and it looked okay as well. She rose from the rocking chair, carrying Marco with her. “I should put you back to bed, sweetie, I need to get going.”

  After putting Marco down, she went back to her chair and dialed Raul’s number.

  “Hello?”

  “Raul? It’s Joan Edwards.”

  There was a pause.

  “Joan, I’m so happy to hear from you. Did you get my text?”

  “I did, that’s why I’m calling.”

  “Oh?”

  “Listen, about that favor you said you owed me. Any chance you can help me out right now?”

  She gave him the basic run down of what she needed - someone to act as protection while she had a talk with someone downtown. He readily agreed and said he’d be out to pick her up in twenty minutes.

  Joan thanked him, hung up the phone and realized Marco was standing in his crib again, yanking on the rails.

  “Anton-no no—-”

  Joan blinked. Had Marco just said something?

  “Marco? Oh my God, Marco, are you talking? Say it again.”

  This was so exciting. The first of the triplets to speak! She should wake up Lissa, this was a milestone.

  “Anton- no no—”

  “Are you trying to say, Auntie?”

  “Anton no no Joan no no—”

  “Oh my God, are you—are you trying to say Auntie Joan?”

  A blush of pride washed over her as she stared at Marco in awe.

  Then it occurred to her - this was her worst fear. She’d been right about leaving the job sooner, rather than later. In fact, it was clear, that she’d waited too long! A baby’s first words were supposed to be Mommy or Daddy, not the name of their nanny.

  “Crap,” she said to herself.

  “Anton no no and Joan no-” he repeated.

  “No, no, don’t say that, you shouldn’t say that,” She said to him, voice rising.

  Marco’s face screwed up and he started to cry. “No, no, I’m sorry, don’t cry. Hush,” she said as she hurried to scoop him up and soothe him. “You didn’t do anything wrong, little man. It’s okay... shhhh, you don’t have to talk again. Saying first words is hard, isn’t it? Especially words like that. I know much easier words. You should learn Mama or Papa instead, those are easier. What do you think? Much, much easier.”

  Marco fussed, so she carried him and rocked him gently as she paced in the room. She started singing a lullaby.

  “Baby Marco, little man,

  go to sleep baby Marco,

  while your sleeping

  little angel,

  practice speaking these first words.

  Maaaama and Paaaapa,

  Paaaaapa and Maaaama,

  Maaaaama and Paaaaaapa,

  Paaaaaaapa and Maaaaaama.

  Go to sleep... go to sleep...

  Go to sleep, precious Marco....”

  Joan lay him back into his crib, making sure he was asleep, then let herself out of the house and lock the door behind her just as Raul drove up.

  “ARE YOU SURE YOU DON’T want me to come upstairs with you?”

  “No, it would be better if you were just standing by. This is something I need to do by myself.”

  “If I stay in the lobby and he tries something, how can I help you? Can I at least come up with you? I’ll stay down the hall, close enough to help if you need it but far enough away not to listen or get in the way.”

  Joan shrugged. Maybe Raul was right. They took the elevator up and didn’t speak.

  When they stepped out Joan directed Raul to an alcove where there was an ice maker and some vending machines. “Stay here unless I call for you, okay?”

  “Of course,” he said.

  She started to walk down the hallway, heart racing. The elevator dinged and her heart thudded anxiously. What if it’s him? She rushed back next to Raul and flattened herself against the wall as the door opened, then peered around the corner and gasped.

  It was Julio Torres. According to Lissa, Julio was supposed to be in Milan taking care of last-minute business details. Half expecting to see some bimbo on his arm, Joan felt an urge to jump out from behind the ice machine and scream, “Gotcha, you cheating cad!” When she heard the voice of a man speaking in Spanish she realized that Julio wasn’t there looking for a room for a tryst. He was being escorted by what sounded like some kind of hotel manager.

  She tried to understand the conversation, picking up just a few words from the manager. “I can’t let you into his room, even if you paid for his stay.” And, “Please, sir, I insist that you need to come back downstairs.”

  Julio’s response was easier to understand.

  “What if I got Mr. Ferraro on the telephone and he gave you permission to let me get his things. Then could I get in?”

  “Si, Señor, Si.”

  The two men remained near the elevators only feet away from where she hid. Joan stepped back, pushing Raul father into the tiny hiding space. Ice clattered into the machine, startling Joan, and she stepped backward onto Raul’s shoe. He grunted. “Sorry,” she whispered.

  “Que?” said the manager.

  Raul’s fingers tightened on her shoulder as they both froze and tried not to breathe.

  Julio responded with irritation in his voice. “Un momento por favor, I’m still trying to get him on the phone.”

  Joan and Raul each let out tiny gasps of relief. Joan shook her shoulders and Raul dropped his hand, stepping away from her to give her space.

  At least he isn’t being a dick.

  “Ah, Antonio,” Julio said, his voice lifting with obvious relief. He spoke in English, “Antonio, this is Julio. Listen, can you please explain to the hotel manager that I have your permission to get your things out of your room?”

  There was a pause.

  “Please, don’t mention it. Like I said, I’m happy to help. Please, just tell the manager that you authorize me to remove your things.”

  Joan’s heart thumped. Antonio was on the other end of that phone call. For some reason Julio was removing his things from his room.

  If he wasn’t going to be coming back to get his things himself, then where was he? How would she question him about her money? About... well, about them, if he wasn’t coming back?

  She started to lean out into the hall, her foot pressing forward. She would just jump out, grab the phone from the manager and have a chat with Antonio while she had the chance.

  “What are you doing?” hissed Raul, pulling her back.

  Joan shook her head. Raul was right. What was she doing? The last thing she wanted was for Julio to discover her at Antonio’s hotel the night after she’d gone on an alcoholic bender over him.

  She pushed herself back into the hiding space.

  Out by the elevators, she heard the manager speaking.

  “Okay, Señor, but please be quick.”

  They heard two pairs of footsteps walking down the hall. They heard the sound of a door opening and closing.

  “We should go,” Joan said as she grabbed Raul’s arm and pulled him towards the elevators.

  “What? You’re not going to confront him?”

  “That wasn’t him... and he’s not coming back here.”

  “Who was that?”

  “Julio Torres. Y
ou don’t want him asking questions about why you and I were at a hotel together, do you?”

  “Oh, I see your point.”

  They hurried to the elevator and relaxed when the doors shut.

  “So, what now?” Raul asked, a little excited from the night’s adventures so far.

  “Get your car and let’s get ready to follow him.”

  “Who?”

  “Julio.”

  “I thought he wasn’t the guy you wanted to talk to?”

  Joan groaned inwardly. Raul was a nice guy and his heart was in the right place, but he was a little slow.

  “He’s taking Antonio his things and, since I don’t know where Antonio is, if we follow Julio I’ll find out,” she explained.

  “Oh, so the guy you want to talk to is Antonio. Who is he, your boyfriend?”

  Joan gave him a withering look.

  “Okay, okay, I didn’t mean to pry.”

  Raul got his car from the valet and they drove off, then doubled back at the next light and parked just before the hotel.

  “That’s them,” she said, pointing to the familiar limousine, driven by the Torres chauffeur.

  “Follow that car,” Joan said.

  “Your wish is my command.”

  “Where are, they going?” Raul asked after they’d followed from a safe distance and the car had gone not to another hotel or even to any other address in the city, but instead towards the highway that would take them out of town.

  “I don’t know. Can you just keep following them?”

  “Actually, I kind of can’t,” Raul said.

  “Why? I thought you said you’d help me.”

  “I’d like to, but I didn’t realize I’d have to follow somebody. I’m almost out of gas.”

  Joan leaned over and checked out his gas gauge. “Damn it,” she said.

  “You’re going to see Julio at the wedding tomorrow, why don’t you just ask him then? I’d keep following him, but we’d just end up stranded on the highway and we’d lose them for sure. At least if I go back now I can get you home again. You didn’t want to be out all night, did you?”