One Month with the Magnate

by Michelle Celmer

  He walked to the front door and let himself inside. “Mama?”

  “In the kitchen,” she called back.

  He wasn’t surprised to find her at the counter, apron on, adding ingredients to a mixing bowl. She always baked when she was upset or angry.

  “What are you making?”

  “Churros, with extra cinnamon, just the way you like them.” She gestured to the kitchen table. “Sit down, I’ll get you something to drink.”

  She pulled a pitcher of iced tea from the fridge and poured him a glass. He would have preferred something stronger, but she never kept alcohol of any kind in the house.

  Handing it to him, she went back to the bowl, mixing the contents with a wooden spoon. “I guess you saw your brother’s face.”

  “I saw it.”

  “He said she attacked him. For no good reason.”

  “Attempted rape is a pretty good reason.”

  She cut her eyes to him. “Emilio! Your brother would never do that. He was raised to respect women.”

  Emphatically as she denied it, something in her eyes said she was afraid it might be true.

  “If you had seen Isabelle, the ripped uniform and the bruises on her arms… She was terrified.”

  She muttered something in Spanish and crossed her self.

  “He needs help, Mama.”

  “I know. He told me that bad people are after him. He asked to stay here. I told him no.”

  “Good. We can’t keep trying to save him. We have to let him hit rock bottom. He has to want to help himself.”

  “You told him you’re no longer brothers. You didn’t mean it.”

  “I did mean it. He hurt the woman I love.”

  “How can you love her after what she did to you? She left you for that rich man. She only cared about money. That’s the only reason she’s back now.”

  “She came to me because she wanted help for her mother, not herself. And she didn’t marry Betts for his money. The only reason she left me for him is because her father threatened to hurt her mother.”

  He waited for the shock, but there was none, confirming what he already suspected. “You knew about the abuse, didn’t you? You knew that Isabelle’s father was hurting them. You had to.”

  She didn’t answer him.

  “Mama.”

  “Of course I knew,” she said softly. “The things that man did to them.” She closed her eyes and shook her head, as if she were trying to block the mental image. “It made me sick. And poor Mrs. Winthrop. Sometimes he beat her so badly, she would be in bed for days. And Isabelle, she always stayed right by her mother’s side. I never speak ill of the dead, but that man did the world a favor when he died.”

  “You should have told me. I could have helped her.”

  She shook her head. “No. He would have hurt you, too. I was always afraid that something bad would happen if he found out about you and Isabelle.”

  “Well, he found out.” He almost told her that Estefan was the one who ratted him out, but he didn’t want to hurt her any more than necessary.

  “You had the potential to go so far, Emilio. I was relieved when she left you.”

  “Even though you knew how much I loved her?”

  “I figured you would get over her eventually.”

  “But I didn’t. As bitter as I was, I never stopped loving her.”

  Was that guilt in her eyes? “What difference does it make now? Alejandro said she’s going to prison.”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  She set the spoon down and pushed the bowl aside. “She stole money.”

  “No, she didn’t. She’s innocent.”

  “You know that for a fact?”

  “I know it in my heart. In every fiber of my being. She’s not a thief.”

  “Even if that’s true, everyone thinks she’s guilty.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t care what everyone thinks.”

  “Emilio—”

  “Mama, do you remember what you told me when I asked you why you never remarried? You said Papa was your one true love, and there could be no one else. I finally understand what you meant. I was lucky enough to get Izzie back. I can’t lose her again.”

  “Even if it means ruining everything you’ve worked so hard for?”

  “That’s not going to happen. First thing Monday, I’m hiring a new attorney.”

  “People will find out.”

  “They probably will.”

  “And I could argue with you until I’m blue in the face and it won’t do any good, will it?”

  He shook his head.

  She drew in a deep breath, then blew it out. “Then I will pray for you, Emilio. For you and Isabelle.”

  “Thank you, Mama.” At this point, he would take all the help he could get.

  Isabelle called her mother Friday, but she was out with Ben. They went to dinner with friends, then they left Saturday morning for an overnight trip to Phoenix to see an old college buddy of Ben’s. Isabelle didn’t get a chance to talk to her until Monday morning. She took the news much better than Isabelle expected. In fact, she suspected all along that Isabelle had been “bending” the truth.

  “Sweetheart,” she said, fixing them each a cup of tea in her tiny kitchenette. “You know I can always tell when you’re lying. And, Mrs. Smith?”

  Isabelle couldn’t help but smile. “Not very creative, huh?”

  “I thought it was awfully coincidental that you were working in the same neighborhood where Emilio lived. Then I mentioned him and you got very nervous.”

  “And people think I’m capable of stealing millions of dollars.” She sighed. “Not only am I a terrible liar, but I don’t even know how to balance a checkbook.”

  Her mother walked over with their tea and sat down at the table.

  “I’m sorry I lied to you, but I promised Emilio I wouldn’t tell anyone I was staying there. It was part of our deal.”

  “Emilio is going to help you, right?”

  “He’s going to talk to his brother on your behalf. You won’t be serving any time.”

  “But what about you?”

  They had been through this so many times. “There isn’t anything he can do. You know what Lenny’s lawyer said. The evidence against me is indisputable.”

  “There has to be something Emilio can do. Can’t he talk to his brother? Make some sort of deal?”

  She was just as bad as Emilio, refusing to accept reality. She wished they would both stop being so stubborn. But she didn’t want her mother to worry so she said, “I’ll ask him, okay?”

  Her mother looked relieved.

  “So, tell me about this weekend trip. Did you have fun?”

  She lit up like a firefly. “We had a wonderful time. Ben has the nicest friends. The only thing that was a little unexpected was that they put us in a bedroom together.”

  Her brows rose. “Oh really?”

  “Nothing happened,” she said, then her cheeks turned red and she added, “Well, nothing much. But he is a very nice kisser.”

  “Only nice?”

  Her smile was shy, with a touch of mischief. “Okay, better than nice.”

  They talked about her trip with Ben and what they had planned for the coming weekend. He clearly adored her mother, and the feeling was mutual. Isabelle was so happy she had found someone who appreciated her, and made her feel good about herself. At the same time she was a little sad that she wouldn’t be around to see their relationship grow. Of course, they could always write letters, and her mother could visit.

  Maybe she was a little jealous, too, that she had finally found her heart’s desire, and it had to end in only a few weeks. They wouldn’t even get to spend Christmas together.

  She drove back to Emilio’s fighting the urge to feel sorry for herself. When she pulled in the driveway there was an unfamiliar car parked there. A silver Lexus. She considered pulling back out. What if it was someone who shouldn’t know she was staying there? But hadn’t Emilio said he didn’t
care who knew?

  She pulled the Saab in the garage and let herself in the house. Emilio met her at the door. “There you are. I was about send out a search party.”

  “I went to see my mother.”

  “Is everything okay? She wasn’t angry?”

  “Not at all.”

  “I need to get you a cell phone, so I can reach you when you’re out.”

  For less than a month? What was the point? “Is there something wrong?”

  “Nothing. In fact, I have some good news. Come in the living room, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

  There was a man sitting on the couch, a slew of papers on the table in front of him. When they entered the room, he stood.

  “Isabelle, this is David Morrison.”

  He was around Emilio’s age, very attractive and dressed in a sharp, tailored suit. “Ms. Winthrop,” he said, shaking her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “You, too,” she said, shooting Emilio a questioning look.

  “David is a defense attorney. One of the best. He’s going to be taking over your case.”

  “What?”

  “We’re firing Clifton Stone.”

  “But…why?”

  “Because he’s giving you bad advice,” Mr. Morrison said. “I’ve been going over your case. The evidence against you is flimsy at best. We’ll take this to trial if necessary, but honestly, I don’t think it will come down to that.”

  “I was using Lenny’s lawyer because he was representing me pro bono. I can’t afford a lawyer.”

  “It’s taken care of,” Emilio said.

  She shook her head. “I can’t let you do this.”

  “The retainer is paid. Nonrefundable. It’s done.”

  “But I can’t go to trial. The only way my mother will avoid prison is if I plead out.” She turned to her “new” attorney. “Mr. Morrison—”

  “Please, call me David.”

  “David, I really appreciate you coming to see me, but I can’t do this.”

  “Ms. Winthrop, do you want to spend the next twenty years in prison?”

  Was this a trick question? Did anyone want to go to prison? “Of course not.”

  “If you stick with your current attorney, that’s what will happen. I’ve seen lawyers reprimanded and in some cases disbarred for giving such blatantly negligent counsel. Either he’s completely incompetent, or he has some sort of agenda.”

  Agenda? How could he possibly benefit from her going to prison? “What about my mother? What happens to her?”

  “Alejandro already told me they wouldn’t ask for more than probation,” Emilio said.

  “When did he say that?”

  He hesitated, then said, “The day you came to see me in my office.”

  So all this time she’d been working for him for no reason? She should be furious, but the truth was, it was a million times better here than at that dumpy motel. And if she hadn’t come here, Emilio would have gone the rest of his life hating her. Maybe now they even had some sort of future together. Marriage and family, just like they had planned. Hope welled up with such intensity she had to fight it back down. She was afraid to believe it was real.

  “You really think you could keep me and my mother out of prison?” she asked David.

  “Worst case you may end up with probation. It would go a long way if the last few million of the missing money were to surface.”

  “If I knew where it was I would have handed it over months ago. I gave them everything else.”

  “I’m going to do some digging and see what turns up. In the meantime, I need you to sign a notice of change of counsel to make it official.”

  She signed the document, but only after thoroughly reading it—she had learned her lesson with Lenny—then David packed up his things and left.

  “I told you I wouldn’t let you go to prison,” Emilio said, sounding smug, fixing himself a sandwich before he went back to work.

  “I still don’t like that you’re paying for it. What if someone finds out?”

  “I’ve already said a dozen times—”

  “You don’t care who finds out. I know. But I do. Until I know for sure that I’m not going to prison, I don’t want anyone to know. Even if that means waiting through a trial.”

  “I suppose that means we’ll have to wait to get married.”

  Married? She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She knew he wanted to be with her, but this was the first time he had actually mentioned marriage.

  “I was hoping we could start a family right away,” he said, putting the turkey and the mayo back in the fridge. “If we haven’t already, that is. But we’ve waited this long. I guess a few more months won’t kill me. Just so long as you know that I love you, and no matter what happens, I’m not letting you go again.”

  He loved her, and wanted to marry her, and have a family with her. She threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. This was more than she ever could have hoped for. “I love you, too, Emilio.”

  “This is all going to work out,” he told her, and she was actually starting to believe it.

  “So, do you have to go back to work?” she asked, sliding her hands under his jacket and up his chest.

  He grinned down at her. “That depends what you have in mind.”

  Though they had spent the better part of the weekend making love in bed—and on the bedroom floor and in the shower, and even on the dining room table—she could never get enough of him. “We haven’t done it in the kitchen yet.”

  He lifted her up and set her on the counter, sliding her skirt up her thighs. “Well, that’s an oversight we need to take care of immediately.”

  Sixteen

  Isabelle never imagined things could be so wonderful. She and Emilio were going to get married and have a family—even though he hadn’t officially asked her yet—and she and her mother weren’t going to prison. Her life was as close to perfect as it could be, yet she had this gut feeling that the other shoe was about to drop. That things were a little too perfect.

  Emilio wasn’t helping matters.

  He called her from work Thursday morning to warn her that a package would be arriving. But it wasn’t one package. It was a couple dozen, all filled with clothes and shoes from department stores and boutiques all over town. It was an entire wardrobe, and it was exactly what she would have picked for herself.

  Her first instinct was tell him to send it back, but now that she wasn’t going to prison she did need new clothes.

  “How did you know what I would like?” she asked Emilio when she called to thank him.

  “I had help.”

  “What kind of help?”

  “A personal shopper, so to speak. I swore her to secrecy.”

  Her? Who would know her exact taste, that Emilio knew to contact? There was really only one person. “My mother?”

  “I knew you wouldn’t get the clothes yourself, and who better to know what you like?”

  “I talked to her this morning and she didn’t say a word.”

  “She wanted it to be a surprise. If there’s anything that you don’t like just put it aside and I’ll have it returned.”

  “It’s all perfect.”

  “There should be something coming later this afternoon, too. A few things I picked out.”

  Isabelle called her mother to thank her, but she wasn’t home so she left a message. After that she waited, very impatiently, until the package with Emilio’s purchases arrived later that afternoon. She carried it into the living room where she had been sorting and folding all the other things.

  Sitting on the couch, she ripped it open. It was lingerie. The first two items she pulled out were soft silk gowns in pink and white. When she saw what was underneath the gowns she actually blushed. Sexy items of silk and lace that were scandalously revealing. She’d never owned anything so provocative. There had never been any point.

  She called Emilio immediately to thank him.

  “I wasn
’t sure if they would be a little too racy,” he said.

  “No, I love them!”

  “You’ll have to try them on for me later.”

  “I might just be wearing one when you walk in the door,” she said, and could practically feel his sexy smile right through the phone line.

  “In that case I may just have to come home early.”

  After they hung up Isabelle was gathering all her new clothes to take upstairs when the doorbell rang again.

  More new clothes?

  She walked to the foyer and pulled the door open, expecting another delivery man, but when she saw who was standing there her heart plummeted. “Mrs. Suarez.”

  “May I come in?” Emilio’s mother asked.

  “Of course,” she said, stepping aside so she could come inside. “Emilio isn’t here.”

  “I came to talk to you.”

  The last time she had seen Mrs. Suarez, Isabelle’s father had been accusing her of stealing from them. And after threatening to have her arrested, and her younger children taken away by Social Services, he’d fired her.

  The phone started to ring. “Let me grab that really fast,” Isabelle said, dashing to the living room where she’d left the cordless phone, answering with a breathless, “Hello?”

  It was her mother. “Hi honey, I just got your message. I’m so glad you like the clothes. Wasn’t that a sweet thing for Emilio to do?”

  “Yes, it was. Mom, can I call you back?”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Everything is fine.” She glanced over and realized Mrs. Suarez had followed her. She was looking at the piles of clothes strewn over the furniture, specifically the lingerie, and she did not look happy.

  Oh, hell.

  “I’ll call you soon.” She disconnected and turned to Mrs. Suarez. “Sorry about that.”

  “How is your mother?”

  “Really good.” She gestured to the one chair that wasn’t piled with clothes. “Please, sit down. Can I get you something to drink?”