by Pamela Aares
“Wouldn’t miss the Fandango,” Enrique said, drawing Natasha back from her thoughts. “That is if I can get the time off.” He winked at Natasha. “We might be working double shifts, huh, boss?” From the shelf near her door, he lifted the tray of salvia starts she’d repotted earlier in the day.
“You know what they say about all work and no play,” Natasha said. The business of managing people came easily to her. All she had to do was put herself in the other person’s shoes. “Of course you can go.”
“Then I’d better hustle.” His slow smile was aimed at Tammy. “Those salvias we ordered won’t come in until Tuesday and the gift shop needs these for their retail orders.”
Under her breath, Natasha said a silent prayer for Enrique. Without his help she would’ve already failed. An angel from heaven couldn’t have been any more welcome.
After Tammy and Enrique left, Natasha checked the voice messages on her cellphone. She tried to pretend that she was happy that there wasn’t another message from Adrian, but that’d be an outright lie. One message was from the attorney Mary had recommended. The woman said she was booked and didn’t give any suggestions or other recommendations.
Natasha clicked off her phone. Evidently finding an affordable attorney was not a quick process. It didn’t help that her funds were so tight. If she had more money, she could hire the best. But she didn’t.
Guilt nagged, sapping her energy. That her future—worse, Tyler’s future—pivoted on her limited income rattled her. How many mothers felt just like her? Measured their success as a parent by what they could provide? Even though deep down she knew that it was love and attention that mattered—that and good guidance—she couldn’t help but be angry about the injustice in the world. And staggered by the powers of chance and coincidence. She sure didn’t want to think of the twists and turns in her life as fate. Or destiny. But her mother’s voice from her dreams taunted her.
Bet on the number seventeen, it will lead to your destiny.
Yeah, well, look where that landed her.
But a new thought cracked through—the bet had landed her at Casa.
The job had forced her to deal with her disability head-on.
The part about the whole thing that she didn’t want to face was that the bet and its repercussions had also landed her in Adrian’s arms. Had shown her what love felt like. What a kind, thoughtful—right, Natasha—kind and thoughtful and sinfully handsome, sexy… and, unfortunately, ridiculously rich man. She wished she could believe the rich part didn’t matter, but this was life, not some children’s tale. She needed to get a grip and keep her future firmly in her own hands. She couldn’t rely on Adrian or his money to solve her problems.
She scraped a hand across her face and sat up in the chair. Placing her palms on her knees, she took a deep breath just like the counselor had shown her during the second night of class. Breathe in. Relax. Breathe out and imagine all negative forces known and unknown dissolving away. Breathe in and—
The phone on her desk rang, startling her.
“Natasha?”
Eddie.
“I told you I’d call you,” she said as firmly as she could.
“I was headed up your way, and I hoped that maybe I could meet Tyler and—”
“No, Eddie. I need more time.”
“Two days, then.”
“Another couple of weeks.”
He could get an order from the court to see Tyler; Mary had looked into the particulars of the issue for her. But she wanted to stall him as long as possible, needed time to get help. Time to think. Time to improve her skills so that her job would never be in jeopardy.
Her stomach lurched as she hung up the phone. How had he found out where she worked? And why was he in such a god-awful hurry to meet Tyler?
Eddie’s anxious tone made her more nervous than a bossy, confident tone would have. Maybe he really did want a family? Maybe he was truly serious about wanting to be part of their lives? But if that were true, why the rush? Why wouldn’t he do everything he could to ease his way gently into their lives—to earn their trust? It didn’t add up.
She turned to the computer screen and tried to focus. The one task she’d kept for herself was reconciling the orders and inventory—it would look darned suspicious if she foisted too much of her work off on Enrique. But her nerves wouldn’t settle, and her anxiety made reading impossible. And no amount of mediation was going to change that right then. But maybe a change of focus would.
Eddie’s voice rang in her ears as she walked into the greenhouse to check on the starts she and Enrique had transplanted the prior week.
Thirty flats of young plants lined the state-of-the-art facility. The monkey flowers looked worse for the transplant, but they would be hardy once they took hold. The false indigo had perked up and put out new leaves, and most would be ready for sale in a week or two.
She didn’t like to sell starts until the root hairs had grown out and the plants were hardy enough for even a less-than-careful gardener to transplant.
For a couple of hours she tended the plants, immersed herself in the feel of the soil in her hands and tried to force her fears about Eddie out of her mind. And she only thought about Adrian maybe a hundred times a minute.
Later that afternoon, Natasha and Enrique took a badly needed break from the heat of the greenhouse. They sat under the shade of a nearby oak and split the iced tea that Tammy had left for Natasha.
“Something’s eating you, boss.”
“I have a lot on my mind.”
He took a swig from his cup and eyed her over the rim. “Can I help?”
Eddie’s call had seared desperation into her. “I need to find an attorney,” she heard herself saying. “A really, really good one who will work for next to nothing.”
“You’ve come to the right guy,” Enrique said. “I know a good attorney—and he owes me a favor.”
Natasha must’ve looked surprised, because he quickly added, “Any immigrant dealing with the Feds knows attorneys. Ones who’ll work for reduced fees. What’s your problem?”
Hope shot into her and to her surprise, she told him about Eddie, about her fears regarding losing Tyler. She was on the verge of telling him the extent of her disability, but her instincts for self-preservation kicked in. No matter how much she might like and trust and appreciate Enrique, she couldn’t risk word getting out that she was basically unsuited for her position. She couldn’t risk losing her job, not now, not with a possible custody hearing looming.
If the instructor and counselors were right, with another few weeks of classes she’d be able to handle the accounts and the orders with only a little help. She was surprised that she’d actually learned some techniques that worked and dared to hope they were right. Until then she’d just let Enrique think she was too busy—that she’d delegated the financial accounting and ordering as part of her management plan.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “My guy can help you. He’s good at getting people out of legal scrapes.”
Legal scrapes. Her life with Tyler was on the line. What she faced felt like a helluva lot more than a legal scrape.
Enrique leaned close and patted her arm. “Hey, I know how loving someone can make you feel desperate, make you do desperate things.”
“Am I interrupting?” The hard edge in Adrian’s voice sent shock waves of pins and needles through Natasha. Sitting behind the trunk of the old oak, she hadn’t seen him approaching.
Enrique released her arm and jumped up.
“We were just taking a break from the heat.” Natasha heard the defensiveness in her voice, but the fiery look in Adrian’s eyes had set her on edge.
“I should check on the new irrigation lines we put in,” Enrique said smoothly. He tapped two fingers to his forehead. “Welcome home, Mr. Tavonesi.”
She knew nothing was wrong with the irrigation lines but was glad for Enrique’s quick response. Adrian watched Enrique depart with a narrow stare. When he looked back at her wit
h slitted eyes, the judgment she saw riled her.
And then it occurred to her—he was jealous! If only he knew that when she wasn’t trying to find a way to deal with Eddie and to figure out how in the heck she was going to do the job Adrian had foisted on her, that her every other thought was of him.
The muscles around his eyes softened. “You look like you haven’t been sleeping well.”
“I’m okay. Fine.” She’d admitted to enough for one day. Maybe too much.
He glanced around and then drew her into his arms. She had no defense against his kiss. His hands pressed up the small of her back. Her body trumped her mind and her defenses, and she melted into the kiss she’d craved for the past two weeks.
When Adrian eventually broke off the kiss, he stepped away from her. She followed his gaze. Several of the vineyard crewmembers were walking toward the supply shed next to the greenhouse.
Adrian held out a hand. “Come with me. I have something to show you.”
The gift shop at the Casa was buzzing with excited voices when Natasha and Adrian entered.
Coco, Zoe and Alana stood next to an easel covered with a bright blue cloth.
Coco swept out her hand and whisked the cloth away. “The logo for your new business!”
The colors nearly jumped off the small canvas. The painting was exquisite. Perfect. Vines twined around bees and butterflies and wildflowers set against a backdrop of the Sonoma hills and a setting sun.
“Coco did the photo montage and then I painted it,” Alana said. She squinted at Adrian. “He didn’t tell you, did he? We wanted to surprise you.”
He’d surprised her all right. His kiss had twisted what little good sense she’d held on to and sent her senses scrambling into full-on want. But seeing his family gathered—with a surprise they’d created just for her—brought tears to her eyes.
“It’s… it’s beautiful.” There was no way she was going to bawl. If she let even one tear loose, the emotions that threatened to engulf her would drown her.
“I’m going to make a poster from this that we can sell at the Fandango,” Coco said. “And we’ll auction off the painting. Of course, all the funds will go to Inspire.” She crossed her arms and shot a pointed glance at Adrian. “It’ll have to do until my brother helps me corral the men I need for the calendar.”
A frisson of embarrassment riddled through Natasha. It was likely that by now, all the Tavonesi women knew her background. Who knew what sort of secrets sisters and cousins shared among themselves? And yet here they were, celebrating her. If only the future could be as rosy as they imagined.
Alana took Coco by the arm. “No sibling fights; this is a celebration.” She pulled a bottle of champagne from a galvanized bucket sitting on the table next to the easel and popped the cork. “A sound I’ll never tire of,” she said with a laugh. But her smile faded. “Glasses. I forgot the glasses.”
Zoe darted behind the counter and returned brandishing a stack of Dixie Cups. “These will have to do.”
“To our new native garden business,” Adrian said, tapping the paper cup he held to Natasha’s. “And to the Casa’s newest manager.”
She touched her cup in turn to those held out by his sisters and cousin. But she was feeling anything but celebratory.
“We’ve started a book group,” Alana said. “We’re going to focus on books about the local region. And Coco’s going to work on her English.”
Coco took a playful swat at Alana. “I believe my English may be more fluent than yours.”
“We want you to join us, Natasha. We’ll meet here so it’s easy,” Zoe added.
Natasha felt like she’d been dropped onto the stage of a vaudeville farce and felt laughter threatening. What other impossible challenges could the universe throw at her?
“And to celebrate the success of our new endeavor, I’m taking you and Tyler to the Giants game on Sunday,” Adrian said in his matter-of-fact tone that told her he assumed she’d have no objection. “Alex got us special tickets.”
No. No. No. She couldn’t have Tyler falling for Adrian too. Tyler would get attached. He’d already said he wished he had a dad like Adrian. One member of the family obsessed with a Tavonesi was enough for one lifetime. Her mind began to fire excuses even as her body and her heart threw water on every single one.
But two days later Natasha did go to the ballgame. She couldn’t deny Tyler the outing of his dreams just because she didn’t have a decent grip on her emotions.
Adrian’s cousin Alex played like a fiend, hitting a double, a triple and a home run. Kaz Tokugawa, Alex’s sister Sabrina’s husband, pitched six perfect innings. But when Kaz let three runners reach base in the seventh, the manager yanked him. Natasha tried to explain to Adrian why the manager took Kaz out and put in a relief pitcher, as well as some of the subtler rules of the game. When she fumbled on the balk rule, Tyler piped up proudly. She couldn’t miss the way he lit up around Adrian. Why couldn’t Adrian be just a normal guy she’d met at the grocery store or just another worker at the vineyard? A guy she could love on an even playing field? A guy she could possibly imagine having in her future? In their future?
Adrian took a call during the game. Natasha knew from his tone that it was from a woman. The realization hurt and she worried at it, like rubbing salt on a wound. She needed to remember reality, however much it hurt.
She was quiet on the way home and glad for Tyler’s excited recap of the game and his never-ending questions to Adrian about his trip to Rome. When Adrian pulled up in front of their apartment, he reached across the seat and took her hand. With Tyler in the back seat, there was little that could be said, but the beat of her pulse told her more than she wanted to admit. He asked if he’d see them at the Fandango. Tyler’s yelping a definite yes made them both laugh. But she wasn’t laughing as she watched Adrian drive away.
It hurt that they wouldn’t be spending time together—alone—after Adrian had been gone for so long. But he’d let her know that his father had scheduled a couple of meetings for after the ballgame, meetings to deal with pressing issues at the Casa. She knew she couldn’t have all his time. She could only hope that work was the only problem keeping them apart.
It also hurt to be a realist, but life had taught her there was no alternative. Someday, maybe sooner than she wanted to admit, Adrian would no longer be her lover. And maybe not even her boss.
The next day Natasha left work early and picked Tyler up at school. He bounded to the car, full of enthusiasm.
“What do kids wear to the Fandango?” he asked.
The Fandango was a family affair. It started early enough that little ones wouldn’t be tired out, and the Casa staff had arranged for hay-bale beds and sitters for the children whose parents wanted to stay late into the night and party.
“Jeans and a shirt,” she said, distracted. The attorney Enrique had put her in touch with had called after lunch. The man was willing to help her put every obstacle in Eddie’s path.
“My Alex Tavonesi shirt, could I wear that?”
“Sure, honey.”
“What are you going to wear?”
“I don’t know, I haven’t thought about it.” She turned up the lane toward their apartment, her thoughts on the information the attorney had supplied. Even if things went well, Eddie might be able to demand visitation rights.
“You should look really, really nice,” Tyler said. “I like your blue dress.”
Why was he so keen on what she wore? And then it dawned on her—he wanted Adrian in his life.
Ever since the ballgame at Trovare, Tyler had yammered on about Adrian this and Adrian that. She tried not to read too much into his constant praise, but there was no denying Tyler loved being around him. She feared that in Tyler’s young mind he’d already formed a picture of a future that would include having the man he so admired for a father. Another job she had no power to perform. Her ten-year-old son’s attempt to help seared sadness into her soul.
Chapter Twenty
/> NATASHA WORE THE BLUE DRESS TO THE Fandango.
As she and Tyler pulled into the Casa’s drive, she watched him run a palm over his hair and straighten his shirt—the gestures of a boy wanting to make a good impression. A pang of wistfulness sprang up in her heart. If only she could give Tyler the opportunities she dreamed of. Still, a good school and a safe neighborhood were a good start.
“Wow,” he said, hanging his head out the window. The wind ruffled his hair and he looked more like the boy she was used to seeing. “So many lights. They even have lights in the trees and on your greenhouse.”
She didn’t correct him; in Tyler’s mind it was her greenhouse. Kids often thought that of the places their parents worked. She wondered if the daughters of the president thought that of the White House. The thought had her smiling.
Tammy pulled up beside them in the parking lot. She eyed Natasha’s dress.
“You look amazing,” she said. “You should wear blue more often.”
“I picked it out,” Tyler piped up.
“Care to loan him out?” Tammy said with a laugh. “I could use a wardrobe consultant.” She turned to Tyler. “There’s a pickup game in the field behind the barn. I hear Scotty Donovan is pitching.”
Tyler ran off so fast that Natasha couldn’t give him instructions on where to meet up with her.
“He’ll be fine,” Tammy said. “There are loads of people to watch out for him.”
“Mom!” Tyler shouted as he came running back. “We have to go home. I don’t have my glove.”
“Plenty of equipment down at the field,” Tammy said.
“Great!”
This time Natasha grabbed him before he could sprint away. “Meet me at the table for dinner.”