Andres stepped off the elevator into the dark apartment. His mind had been reeling with questions. He’d learned long ago not to question the hatred between the two bickering families. Like the tropical heat, it was simply something one lived with. But it wasn’t the shared history that was troubling him. It was the sale of the paper. Stephanie had to have misunderstood. Especially the part about his family having financial setbacks. His father had just bought him a new BMW X5. People facing difficult times didn’t splurge what little cash they might have left on a high-dollar motor vehicle.
“You’re home early. I’m glad.” Guido’s voice carried up the hall from his father’s favorite chair.
“Why is that?”
“Why am I glad? She’s a nice girl.”
“Dad.”
“ I’m old-fashioned.”
“Among other things.” Andres plopped on the sofa in the sitting room.
“Not go well?”
“No. It went fine.” He studied his father’s face. His expression was calm, but his eyes were in turmoil. “You’re right. She’s a nice girl.” Much nicer than he had expected.
“She’s beautiful. Looks very much like her mother.” Guido folded the magazine he’d been reading and set it aside.
“I thought you knew her mother.”
“She was a lovely woman. Heart of gold. Cortez didn’t deserve her. Didn’t know how to take care of her. Men like that shouldn’t be given treasures.”
Andres watched his father’s grip on the arms of the chair tighten until the whites of his knuckles shone with almost-blinding brightness. “Her daughter's nice enough.”
“Has her mother’s sweetness. I could tell. She knew who we were but didn’t let that bastard’s blood taint her. Has her mother’s grace, charm. She’s a prize.”
“Like her mother?”
Guido nodded.
“She and Mom were friends, weren’t they?”
“Your mom came to visit her good friend Catherine. Since Catherine and Eduardo were married in Georgia, your mom missed the wedding. She had no intention of missing their first anniversary. That’s when Catherine introduced us. Birds of a feather. I think she knew all along I’d take a fancy to your mother.” He smiled. “Your mom was another sweet one. From the moment you were nothing more than a twinkle in her eye, she adored you.”
“I wish I could remember her.”
“She and Catherine were very much alike. When your mom passed on, Catherine was over here, hovering and loving on you as if you were her own flesh and blood. She was determined you weren’t going to miss the warmth of a mother’s love. Said she owed your mom that much.”
Odd, Andres thought, that in all his years, his father had never mentioned any of this before. “I suppose that must have been a comfort to you.”
“Some. I was a bear. A mean one. She ignored my moods, tolerated my temper, and gave me the space I needed by making sure you were well cared for. What does a grieving man know about caring for a grieving little boy? You were just a bit over three. You'd stopped talking, even to me. Only person you'd say anything to, only person you'd smile for was Catherine.”
“Looks like I've learned to make up for my silence.” Andres grinned. Though Stephanie’s questions had piqued his curiosity, he didn’t like the heavy turn of the conversation or the sadness in his father’s eyes.
Guido smiled at his son. “That was Catherine’s doing. Set us all straight. Never gave up on you or me.”
“Sounds like quite a woman. I guess Cortez was a lucky man, at least for a while.”
“He was an idiot!” Guido pushed up out of the chair, shoving it back against the wall, and stormed out of the room.
“Good night to you too, Dad,” Andres offered to an empty room. At least now he thought he might have a small lead as to where the sore spots lay between the two men. The place to start was most definitely with Catherine Cortez.
“Yes. That’s correct. A new account. Stephanie Cortez.” Patricia stood in her closet, holding the cordless phone in one hand, picking through her jewelry drawer with the other. “Yes, she’s looking for a set of emeralds. A square cut ring and matching earrings.” She picked up and examined her favorite emerald. “Yes, with diamonds.” Quietly clucking her tongue against her cheek, she shook her head, returned the piece to its velvet bed, and picked up another. “I’m sure a matching bracelet is a lovely idea. Bring it all and she’ll choose which best suits her. No, two o’clock won’t work. Three would be better.” She needed to make sure Eduardo wouldn’t still be home for lunch. Slipping the sapphire and emerald band from Van Cleef’s onto her finger, she nodded. Today she wanted to remember Paris. “Yes, the bill will be sent to Mr. Cortez. Thank you.”
Having locked the closet door behind her, she sat at her vanity, dropped the phone in its cradle, and reached for the Guerlain to dab another spot of perfume behind her ears. Today she would feel Paris. When all this was over and the little trollop was out of their lives again, she would have to take a quick jaunt. A few days shopping on the Champs Elysees would be a suitable reward for her hard work. Of course, she’d need more cash than Eduardo would allow. But that could be easily remedied. She smiled at her own reflection in the mirror. She looked damn good for a woman her age and without plastic surgery. A little pampering can go a long way.
“Excuse me, Señora,” Marta spoke from the doorway.
“Yes?”
“You told me to inform you when Señor Cortez arrives. The car has just pulled into the driveway.”
“Thank you, Marta.” She smiled sweetly at the young girl. Good help was so hard to find, and Marta was incredibly reliable. Today Patricia would join her husband for lunch. Stephanie had been so cooperative. Having breakfast after Eduardo had left for work and leaving the house before breakfast with Elena. She had no idea where the girl was gallivanting off to. Probably spending the day with her new suitor. It was all too perfect!
Patricia was too excited to wait until dinner to see how well her plans were coming together. How well her carefully chosen words were brewing. Now it was time to stir the pot, and Stephanie's absence was the perfect seasoning. Last night she could tell her words had cut straight to Eduardo’s heart. This morning would be no different. He had made it too easy for her. He always had. A hint here, an insinuation there, and he was more than eager to jump to the desired conclusion. For a man with a cunning mind for business, he was wonderfully gullible in affairs of the heart.
Eduardo wasn’t surprised by the extra place settings on the table. His wife often had breakfast after he’d eaten lunch, but he was surprised when Patricia breezed onto the patio to join him.
“Hello, dear.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek.
He refrained from sighing. Her Parisian perfume was strong enough to cover the smell of dead fish and almost always a prelude to a very expensive day. He couldn’t help but wonder what had her in such a good mood.
“To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?”
Smiling sweetly, Patricia flirted coyly with her husband. “I had a wonderful night’s sleep. I feel ten years younger this morning.”
He was going to have to make more of an effort not to neglect her so. He wasn’t as...driven as he had once been, but he would have to remember to pay more attention to her needs.
“Did you see Stephanie this morning?” Patricia served her standard single spoonful of mashed potatoes, pretending she didn't already know the answer.
“No. I’m sure after her late night she probably wanted to sleep in and have breakfast with mother.”
“Yes, as excited as she was about her date, I’m not surprised last night carried into early morning.”
Eduardo paused at her choice of words. He hadn’t remembered incorrectly. His wife had indeed misrepresented Stephanie’s feelings. Or Stephanie had succeeded in fooling him completely, but he didn’t think that was the case.
“You know how this younger generation is,” Patricia continued without looking up from serving herself. “Especially one raised in the United States. I’m sure finishing your date at breakfast isn’t anything unusual.” Patricia gracefully slipped a tiny morsel of food from her fork into her mouth.
Eduardo set his fork on the plate and watched her.
“And of course, we all know how charming the Campo men can be. So many women find them, and their money, hard to resist. I wouldn't be surprised if that's who she’s with now.” She picked her napkin up from her lap and delicately dabbed at each end of her mouth. “What do the newspapers call young Andres? Oh, yes, our own Prince Charming.”
Her words brought chilling memories to mind. Eduardo could hear almost the same phrases coming from her, only they had been said close to eighteen years ago as she walked from her desk at the paper to his. Always a passing comment. Never more than idle chitchat. Suddenly he’d lost his appetite, and from the way she was wiggling her fork at him, Patricia had noticed.
“Is something wrong, dear? You’re not eating.”
“A little indigestion. The buyout and all.” He would have sworn he saw a gleam in her eyes. Very much the way they glittered when he gave her a new bauble. Had her words been carefully chosen to misrepresent, both now and then? Had this gleam, was it of triumph, been in her eyes and he'd been too consumed in his own pain to see?
“Yes, the buyout. I’ll have Marta bring you some chamomile tea.” Smiling in her usual manner, she pushed the small remote in her lap and listened for the sound of the chime echoing in the kitchen.
“Thank you.” What was he thinking? Patricia was a wonderful, caring wife with a small penchant for gossip. That was normal for women in her circles. After all, she was asleep when Stephanie came home. She’d have no way of knowing what time the date ended. She was correct in that with Stephanie being American, few would doubt a grown woman would be unencumbered to finish a date with breakfast in bed. Still, he would have to pay more attention to his daughter’s behavior and his wife's words. Perhaps it was unfair of him to judge the daughter by the sins of the mother.
“How can this not be on microfiche, electronic files, something? This is the computer age.” Blowing away a wisp of hair that insisted on falling in her eyes, Stephanie opened another book and began flipping pages in search of this edition’s society news.
“We’ve actually managed to scan quite a bit, but we’ve only gotten as far as 1957.” Daniel put the book he’d finished examining back on the shelf and reached for another. “Though I think it may be time to look into a budget increase to hurry the process up a bit.”
“Now you think of it!” She rubbed her eyes, blinked a few times, and flipped another page. “How long have we been at this?”
“I don’t know. I decided I was happier if I stopped looking at my watch. How badly do you want to know?” He asked without looking up.
“I don’t know.” Bending to look more closely at the photo in the middle of the page, Stephanie’s jaw dropped at the tiny print under the photo. “Holy Christmas.”
“What?”
“This paper is from the year before Mom graduated college, her junior year.”
Daniel pushed away from the table and walked around to Stephanie’s side for a closer look. Reading over her shoulder, he let out a slow whistle. “The esteemed Mr. Guido Campo Hoyos, home from his studies at Georgia Tech in the United States, is seen at the annual country-club gala escorting the lovely American Catherine Howard. Wow.”