by Phoebe Conn
“I don’t work exclusively for anyone,” Ann replied.
“You’ll be free to work with whomever you choose,” Lucien assured her. “I merely want you for the launch of the fragrance. We’re aiming for the fall to market during the holidays.”
“Aren’t there enough perfumes on sale now?” Alejandro asked, and he caught a bright spark of anger cross Lucien’s gaze. “Of course, I know nothing about ladies’ perfumes.”
“Apparently nothing about women at all,” Lucien countered. “Women never tire of shopping. When they become tired of a favorite scent, they want something new, something captivating. Ana’s face and figure are perfect for my new perfume.”
“So there’s always a market for perfume and shoes?” Alejandro surmised.
Lucien regarded him with a condescending smile. “Always. I love women and never tire of designing for them. Ana doesn’t drink while she works, but I should have offered you wine.”
“Thank you, but not today.” Alejandro asked a question about shoe manufacturing, and Lucien supplied such intricate details, they had finished lunch before he concluded.
“I can see you’re tired, my dear. I believe we have enough to work with today. I’ll speak to your agent about scheduling the perfume ads. We have the bottle now, a beauty of spun glass, and we could use it even while it’s empty.”
“Advertising always makes the product look better than it is,” Alejandro offered.
“I disagree,” Lucien countered. “I can’t guarantee happiness or success in love, but my name is synonymous with excellence. I hope you’ll forgive me, Ana, but I couldn’t resist getting a small present to thank you for the last two days.”
Alejandro squeezed her hand as they entered the living room. “Presents aren’t necessary, Lucien,” she told him.
“Gifts are a wonderful surprise, not a tiresome obligation.” He opened a small chest and removed a white box with a big silver bow. “I hope you don’t mind, Alejandro. Ana appears to be confused about her marital status, so I don’t feel as though I’m giving presents to another man’s wife.” He handed Ana the pretty box.
Caught off guard, Alejandro nodded rather than argue they were married when they weren’t. “Ana makes her own decisions.”
“Thank you, Lucien.” Ana untied the bow and opened the box to find a white gold bangle circled with pave diamonds. It was gorgeous, but she immediately replaced the lid. “I can’t take this.”
“Why not?” Lucien asked. “I’ve seen you wear bangles, and the dusting of diamonds doesn’t make it a costly piece. Try it on and see how you like it.”
Ana slid the beautiful bracelet onto her wrist. “This is lovely, but it’s too much, Lucien.”
“Nonsense,” the designer argued. “I want you to keep it and give me an occasional thought. That’s all I ask.”
Ana hesitated, and then left the bracelet on her wrist and dropped the jewelry box into her bag. “Thank you so much. I’ve enjoyed working with you, and the perfume ads should be fun. Let’s go home, Alejandro.”
Alejandro wouldn’t have forbidden her to take the exquisite bracelet, but he was annoyed that she’d kept it. “Yes, let’s go while there’s still time for me to get in a ride.”
Lucien accompanied them to the door. “Are you a serious cyclist, Mr. Vasquez?”
“Not serious enough to train for the Tour de France, but it’s good exercise for staying fit.”
Lucien swept him with an appraising glance. “Clearly it is.” He brought Ana’s hand to his lips and turned it to kiss her wrist. “Good-bye, dear. I’ll speak with you soon.”
Alejandro held his breath as they walked down the hall, and waited until they’d entered the elevator to speak. “Did you have to keep the bracelet?” he asked.
She turned it on her wrist. “It’s just a bracelet, Alejandro, and I want him to believe I’m looking forward to working with him again. We can’t make him suspicious about our motives.”
“Oh, of course not,” he replied in a hoarse whisper. “Refusing a gift might make him believe we don’t trust him.”
“You already know I don’t trust him. You needn’t be jealous.”
“I’m not jealous,” he insisted through clenched teeth.
She gave him an ear-tickling kiss. “You certainly sound like it. Be sure to rinse off the powder before you go out for a ride.”
He yanked a handkerchief from his pocket and rubbed it off with angry swipes.
Barcelona had few bike lanes, but Alejandro still liked cruising the city. Early mornings were the best time, but that afternoon, he needed to get out and ride to clear his head. He chose the streets leading to the docks and zigzagged in and out until a black Mercedes sedan came out of a side street and began following too close. To get out of the driver’s way, he rode up on the sidewalk and grabbed a light pole for balance. As the car sped by, he made a note of the license number. Remaining uneasy, he kept a close watch on the traffic behind him, and when the sedan again appeared, he made a quick turn into a narrow alley.
He hadn’t gotten a good look at the driver’s face, but he had an impression of a big man. Whoever he was, Alejandro wouldn’t take a chance on seeing him again. He cut from alley to alley and raced for the Ortiz Line building. He left his bicycle and helmet at the security desk and went up to his office in his shorts and sweaty shirt.
Carlotta was poring over the papers on his desk. Her black suit fit her lush curves to voluptuous perfection and reminded him of a suspect in a murder mystery. “Are you looking for something in particular?” he asked.
She swept him with a disbelieving glance. “You can’t possibly expect to do business dressed like that.”
He had only meant to find a quiet place to make a phone call. “I took the day off. Please don’t move the papers on my desk, or I won’t be able to begin where I left off.”
“Your desk?” she cried. “My beloved Orlando’s body isn’t even cold.”
“He died two days ago and couldn’t still be warm. That isn’t the point though, is it? I’ll be happy to help you with whatever you need, but you can’t walk in and out the way you did when my father was alive.”
“You can’t shut me out,” she hissed. “The firm belongs to me and my boys as well as you.”
Alejandro had read the will and being the principal heir, he wasn’t fazed by her anger. “We’ll see. We could meet with the attorneys tomorrow morning to read the will if you’re free.”
“Of course, I’m free. My husband is dead. We can make plans for the funeral then. His associates are asking for details, and they need to be decided.”
“You know my father didn’t want a funeral. His directions are clear in his will.”
She clenched her fists. “He will have one of the finest funerals ever seen in all of Spain.”
Alejandro sent her a darkly disapproving glance, and she stamped out on teetering stilettos. He vaguely recalled the television coverage of Miguel Aragon’s funeral. Thousands of fans had surrounded the cathedral, but his father hadn’t been a popular matador, and the church wouldn’t be crowded if they held a funeral, which he was determined they would not.
He leaned against the desk and called Montoya. “Lucien believed your traffic-ticket story, but a black Mercedes followed me this afternoon, and the driver could have been the chauffeur he said no longer works for him. Fortunately, I was faster on my bike than he was in his car, but I have the license plate number for you.”
Montoya wrote it down. “I have the officer’s notes. There are a great many Frenchmen named René Charles, and several live here in Barcelona. Was the Mercedes merely following you, or did you perceive it as a threat?”
“The driver came too close the first time, and the second time I saw the car, I didn’t give him a chance to do it again.”
“I’ll take that as a yes. Shall we keep this from Miss Santillan?”
Alejandro pulled in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I don’t keep anything from her.”
&
nbsp; “Really? How brave of you. I’ll call when we know who owns the sedan.”
“Thank you.” Alejandro looked over his desk. Carlotta hadn’t made too big a mess. She had to have been searching for bank records, and he didn’t leave those out for anyone who might wish to look. He locked the office, went downstairs to fetch his bike, and rode home in a weaving circular path. While he saw many black sedans, none was the one he’d spotted earlier.
Alejandro brought vegetable empanadas, a green salad and ice cream to Ana’s that night. He looked relaxed in a shirt and jeans, but his ride had left him more jumpy than when they’d left Lamoreaux’s. She was dressed in a long, pale blue skirt and top, and with her hair flowing free, she resembled a serene angel. He combed his fingers through her curls to pull her close for a hungry kiss.
“Someone followed me while I was riding this afternoon. I reported it to Montoya, and he’ll let us know who owns the car.”
She grabbed hold of his biceps. “You’re sure they were following you?”
“Positive. I only got a glimpse of the driver, but it wasn’t the chauffeur who’s currently working for Lucien.” He helped her to the table, and she slid into her chair.
Their places were already set, and she played with her napkin. “Could it have been one of your stockholders?”
“The price of the stock did fall after my father’s death was announced, but today it’s bouncing back to its former level, so no one could be that incensed. There’s my father’s widow, who will never make things easy for me. We’re not reading the will until tomorrow morning, so I should have been safe from her today.” He went into the kitchen to toss the salad.
“Didn’t your father leave her well provided for?”
“Yes, he did, and there are trust funds for the boys, but the majority of the family stock was left to me. She may assume there will be an equal distribution for her and her sons, but that’s not what my father wanted. Now let’s talk about something else.”
“Thank you for again bringing dinner. This looks delicious. Everything you bring does. I wish I could cook something for us, but…”
“Learning to cook is on our list, remember?”
She brushed a crumb from her lips. “Yes, I do. We haven’t added anything.”
Alejandro had brought beer for himself, and he’d given her a glass of water. He swallowed a long drink before speaking. “We thought we were staying together when we began the list. Lamoreaux said you were confused about your marital status. What did you tell him?”
She plucked a black olive from her salad. “Only that it’s complicated, and I changed the subject. I don’t discuss my personal life on jobs. That’s not included in my fee.”
He ripped an empanada in half. “I understand, but we do need to make plans, Ana. My father’s family lives in the penthouse of the Ortiz Line building. There are apartments for guests to use. I could move into one so I’d be close to the office, but I intend to keep my studio. You love your home, and I should bring the kittens back. Meeting for dinner every night is nice and sleeping over is great, but don’t you think we ought to try actually living together?”
She regarded him with a wistful smile. “I suppose we could, and I do miss the kittens.”
“Could you try for a little more enthusiasm?”
She reached for his hand. “We have such a great time together, but when I’m as round as I’m tall, your bed in your loft will look awfully good to you.”
He laughed in spite of himself. “You can’t get that big, and you’re having my baby, so I wouldn’t complain. Is that your real fear? That I won’t find you attractive the minute you begin to show?” He had a call and checked his phone. “It’s Montoya. Let’s see what he’s found.”
“It’s a rental car,” the lieutenant reported. “And I’ll bet you can guess the name on the rental agreement.”
“René Charles?”
“Correct. He gave an address that doesn’t exist and returned the car this afternoon after having had it only half the day. Paid in cash.”
“Wonderful, so he may come after me next time in a red convertible. I won’t be doing any riding for a while.”
Montoya hesitated a moment. “You may want to reconsider.”
“Now I’m going to be the bait?” Alejandro asked.
“It’s a thought.”
“Good-bye, I need to finish my dinner.” He slid his phone into his pocket. “Where were we?”
“What does it matter? Does Montoya want you to ride around the city until René Charles comes after you again?”
He shrugged. “That doesn’t mean I’ll do it.”
She pushed her plate toward him. “I’m not hungry.”
He pushed it back. “You should eat all these nutritious vegetables to have a healthy baby. Do you want to work on names?”
“Names?” She put her head in her hands to smother her laughter. “You’re like some crazy amusement park ride tonight, one of those with buckets of people whirling in circles and barely missing each other.”
“Is that bad?”
It took her a moment to become serious. “You’ve lost your father and become CEO of the Ortiz Line, which is a huge responsibility, and you’ll have to postpone becoming an architect. Your stepmother may order a hit on you, and someone’s following you, apparently with bad intentions, when you ride your bike. You’ve got problems coming at you from all directions, and you want to work on baby names?”
He looked puzzled. “Does it strike you as an inappropriate time?”
“Inappropriate, inopportune, and flat-out crazy.” She picked up her empanada and took a bite.
His eyes widened. “Now you’re questioning my sanity?”
“No, you’re so normal it’s frightening. You’re as steady as the Rock of Gibraltar, and all I can do is hang on while the world disintegrates around me.”
“Eat so you’ll have the strength.”
She took another bite. “This is awfully good. The vegetables are crisp, and the crust is flaky.” She took several more nibbles. “I can’t get used to the idea of having a baby.” She looked into the living room. “My home would be small for the two of us, and it’s much too small for three with all the things babies need.”
“A crib, a stroller, what else?”
There were only crumbs left on his plate, and she was full with half an empanada. She placed the remaining half on his plate. “We had a big lunch, and I’m full.”
“Thank you. I forgot a highchair. What else does a baby need?”
“Toys.”
“We’ll buy a toy chest. I’ll take the little guy to work with me if he’ll be in your way here.”
“Fatima will take care of him, or her. It’s not that, Alejandro. I’m simply overwhelmed with the thought of caring for someone else.”
“Ice cream will make you feel better. Calcium is soothing.”
“It won’t make me feel any worse. There should be more of the meringue cookies. I’ll make coffee.”
He finished the empanada and got up. “I’ll handle it.”
She sat back and attempted to fold her napkin into a rabbit, but gave up. “You’ll make a wonderful husband.”
“Thank you,” he called from the kitchen. “You’ll make a wonderful wife. I brought butter pecan tonight. I hope you like it.” He returned with generous servings for both of them.
“I love it.” She hummed as she swallowed a spoonful.
“Back to making plans…”
She waved her spoon. “I don’t want to plan anything more than finishing this delicious ice cream. I thought you’d brought me too much. It’s so good, though, I may have a second bowl. There’s nothing that has to be decided tonight, is there?”
“Just the kittens’ residence.”
“Fine. Bring them with you the next time you’re here.”
He regarded her as closely as he would an exotic museum exhibit. “You make it sound as though I might not be invited back.”
She brushed
a curl away from her face. “Did I? I’m sorry. I’m just tired, and maybe nothing is coming out right.”
That was a lie if he’d ever heard one, but he wouldn’t call her on it. “I understand. Maybe I should go back to my studio tonight. I’ll clean up the kitchen first.” She didn’t argue with him, and he left her seated on the sofa with a book. She looked more lost than tired to him, but clearly she didn’t crave his company as badly as he longed for hers.
When Alejandro got up the next morning, it hurt to stretch, and he hadn’t slept nearly as well alone as he did after spending hours making love to Ana. The overcast morning contributed to his dark mood, and the hot water and steam from the shower just made him wet. He rubbed his hair dry as he surveyed his closet. He had bespoke suits, monogrammed shirts and designer ties, so he looked the part of CEO of the Ortiz Line whenever he had to, and it was required for the reading of the will.
As he dressed, he replayed his last conversation with Ana, but no matter how he shuffled the exchange, she’d simply brushed off his suggestion they live together with a halfhearted concern they might feel crowded with a baby. Their baby wouldn’t be born for months, so it was a lame excuse and made him wonder if she cared for him at all. He thought she had to like him a little. Clearly she liked the sex as much as he did. Maybe he hadn’t given her enough time to get over his lie about their marriage. If that held her back, he hoped time would take care of the problem long before they became parents.
Carlotta was the last to enter the boardroom, and she’d brought her sons, Rodrigo and Francisco. They were ten and seven respectively, and while handsomely dressed, looked as though they’d prefer to be in school. They had neatly trimmed black hair and their father’s gray eyes. Alejandro had been aware of their existence but had never played the role of big brother. He supposed he really ought to own up to it now.
There were also half a dozen members of the Ortiz Corporation’s board present, men who’d admired Orlando and expected Alejandro to follow his lead. The corporate attorney, Jacob Tabladillo, had also handled Orlando’s personal affairs, and he had the will ready to read. He was a thin man with intense black eyes who looked as though no aspect of any maritime law had ever escaped his notice.