Carter reached out and took her wrist, his fingers warm as they curled against her skin. “I had to come, Abby. We weren’t finished.”
“Oh, yes,” she said. “We were.” But she couldn’t find the strength to pull away from him. “There’s no solution, Carter.” That was the hell of it. “I can’t see a way forward. Unless I give up everything. And even then, it would be on the off chance that we might end up with more than a hot and crazy affair.”
“Oh, Abs.” He closed his eyes and bowed his head, his posture defeated. After long, confusing seconds, he straightened and made her sit down again. He angled his body, so she could see his face. “I love you, sweet woman. And yes, it’s for real. I struggled as much as you did. We were both struck by lightning, weren’t we? And it left us reeling. But even if it was quick, it wasn’t fake. We have to get used to that idea, maybe. But I have time, if you do.”
“I don’t understand.” She was afraid, too afraid to be crushed a second time.
Carter looked as if he had aged in a week. He was haggard, with dark circles beneath his eyes. The handsome cowboy was still there, but he was rough around the edges.
Now he took both of her hands. “I have never felt for any woman what I feel for you, Abby. It’s as if we swapped hearts, and yours is beating inside me. When I first saw you that night, I thought you were beautiful and mysterious, and I wanted to know more. By the time we left the bar at the Miramar, you had already staked a claim.”
“Love doesn’t happen that fast,” she whispered.
“Maybe it does.” His smile was curiously sweet. “I’m thirty-four years old, Abby. I’ve made my share of mistakes. But I don’t want this to be one of them. Tell me, Abs. Am I on my own here?”
For the first time, she saw the vulnerability deep in his blue-eyed gaze. She found her voice. “I love you, too, Carter. How could I not?”
But even then, her stomach clenched. Love wasn’t the problem.
He folded her close against his chest. They had skated perilously close to disaster. He stroked her hair. “You’re my heart. I’m sorry I hurt you. That was the last thing I wanted.”
In his arms, she was safe. Secure. Loved. But still she felt shaky. There were questions. And hurdles. Did she have the courage to bet all her cards on this one man? What if she gave up everything, and the two of them didn’t last? “I’ll have to figure a few things out,” she said. “But I’ll do it.”
Carter pulled away, his chiseled jaw hard. “No. This is all on me. And I’ve already put things in motion.”
“In motion?” She frowned at him.
He shrugged. “I’ve spoken to my family. Told them I’m in love with you. And I’ve made it clear that Sunset Acres will no longer be my first priority.”
She blinked, stunned. “What does that even mean?” Was he proposing a long-distance relationship?
Carter’s eyes seemed to be sending her a message, but she was puzzled. “I’ll still hold the reins if they want me to,” he said. “But we’re hiring a manager. My parents and my sister agreed once they understood my position. I’ll still have to spend a few days in Royal once a month, but other than that, I’m yours. We’ll travel the world, or you can show me New York. Whatever you want.”
She put her hands to her cheeks. “But that ranch is you, Carter. You love it.”
He shook his head slowly. His gaze locked on hers as if he was willing her to believe. “It’s just some cows and dirt. You, Abby. It’s you I love.”
Tears leaked from her eyes. The enormity of what he was saying overwhelmed her. How could a man walk away from a legacy?
He reached in his pocket. First, he handed her an expensive linen handkerchief. It was too pretty to get wet, but she wiped her face anyway.
Then Carter held out a box. “I went to Harry Winston before I came to find you. That was probably a mistake. I realize that now. I should have let you choose. But I wanted to give you a ring, so you would know I’m serious. We can exchange it.”
Was this really happening? In a situation that was impossible, had Carter actually found a way?
Abby flipped the lid. She stopped breathing for a full three seconds. “Oh, Carter.” He had bought her an enormous, flawless emerald. The setting was extremely plain, so there was nothing to detract from the magnificence of the stone. It would have cost him a fortune, even by Royal standards.
When she didn’t move, he tried to take it back. “You’d rather have a diamond, wouldn’t you?”
The dismay on his face galvanized her. She smacked his hand away. When she pulled the ring from the box, a ray of sunlight peeked from behind the clouds, struck the stone and flashed emerald fire in a million directions. She stared at the stone in awe. “Put it on me, please.”
Gently, Carter slid the ring onto her left hand. “Marry me, Abby. When the engagement has been long enough. When you’re sure.”
Her heart quivered with relief and hope and love. “I’m sure, Carter.” She cupped his face in her hands. “Maybe you won’t believe me, but I’m sure I want to live with you in Texas. Honestly, I do. All my life I’ve searched for a way to fit in. But then I met you, and I realized I had found home. It doesn’t matter if I don’t like cows, or I miss Broadway. When I’m with you, I have everything I want.”
He shook his head slowly, his expression wary. “We’ll talk about this. Marriage is about compromise, or so I’ve been told. We don’t have to make any hard-and-fast decisions today.”
She beamed at him. “But you already have. You were ready to give up your family’s legacy. That means more to me than you’ll ever know.” A man who would do that wanted more than sex. He wanted forever, it seemed. The knowledge made her dizzy.
Carter kissed her forehead. “I want you to be happy, Abs. That’s the most important thing, I swear. And I’ll prove it to you.”
“I believe you.” She held out her hand and let the sun play with the emerald.
He tucked her in the crook of his arm. “The doorman told me your mother had moved out. And that you were living up there in that apartment all alone. Though he wouldn’t give me any clue where to find you, so I’m not exactly on good terms with him.”
“George is a sweetie. I’ll vouch for you.”
Her new fiancé kissed her hard, making her pulse race. “Does that mean I can stay for breakfast?” he asked, his hot gaze locking with hers, making her shiver.
“Oh, yes.” Her body heated, already imagining the long night ahead.
They stood in unison, each ready to get on with their new life. Carter tucked his arm around her waist. “I love you, Abby.”
“I love you, too.”
He pulled back for a moment. “One more thing. I think you may have been right about the festival money. I’m sorry I tried to steer you away.”
“Tell me.”
He stared at her, started to speak and then kissed her forehead. “Can it wait until tomorrow? We’re going to have to go back. But we can hash it out together. Okay?”
“You’re really going to keep me in suspense?”
He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “This thing with you and me is brand-new, Abby. And we’re here in this romantic city. Let’s take one night just for us. Dinner and a show? What do you think?”
She searched his face and knew he was right. The festival secrets would keep. Tonight was a celebration. As she went up on her tiptoes and kissed him, his arms came around her and held her tight. “I love you,” she whispered. “And if you don’t mind, I think I’d rather spend the evening in bed. It seems like an eternity since we were together.”
His eyes blazed with happiness and sexual intent. “I won’t argue with that, Abs. Take me to your apartment and have your way with me.”
“I thought you’d never ask...”
* * *
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One
Esmeralda Sambrano-Peña leaned on the door to the small Washington Heights apartment she shared with her mother and took a moment to catch her breath. She could hear the excited chatter and laughter coming from inside, and the image of her mother and her three aunties holding their weekly get-together brought a tired smile to her face. Her tías and their penchant for neighborhood gossip and salacious jokes always managed to put her in a good mood. And after an extremely long and disappointing day it was comforting to hear familiar voices.
Her smile flagged when she realized she’d have to tell her mother, in front of her tías, that her project had been turned down. Again. Esmeralda sighed and tried to regroup with her body resting against the door. This rejection had hurt more than the others because she’d come so close. The TV series pilot she’d been trying to sell for almost two years had been inches away from actually getting produced. But at the last minute the producers had backed out, claiming the subject matter didn’t have wide commercial appeal. Esme let out a frustrated huff as she put the key in the door and pushed it open.
“Hola, Mami!” she called tiredly from the narrow hallway leading to their small living room, while she took off her shoes and hung her jacket on the rack by the door. The apartment wasn’t big, but it was enough space for them. Two bedrooms, with a living room and kitchen, on Riverside Drive was real estate gold in New York City. Esme flinched at the memory of how they’d ended up in the apartment she and her mother shared. Thinking about the reasons they’d been forced to move here in the first place still filled her with anger, even ten years later.
“Mija, the tías are here,” her mother called loudly, as if Esme wasn’t only a few feet away.
She shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips, as she stepped into the living room and found the four older women sprawled on the sectional couch, each with a glass of wine in hand. They were dressed to the nines, as always. To her mother and her aunts, leaving the house without a perfectly put together outfit and full makeup wasn’t even an option.
“Ladies.” She walked over and dutifully kissed each one on the cheek. They were supposed to be discussing self-help books. But each week the affirmations and book talk lasted about thirty minutes, and the rest of the time was dedicated to downing chilled Moscato and gossiping about the latest news in the neighborhood or back home in the Dominican Republic.
“I see the book conversation is going well,” she teased, taking a seat between her mother and her aunt Rebeca.
“What did they say?” Ivelisse asked, ignoring the comment about the neglected books on the coffee table. And of course the mere mention of her production meeting had the rest of the tías perking up. As soon as Esme sat down, she noticed that her mother looked a bit tense. Her usual cheerful expression was tentative, like she was anticipating trouble. She probably suspected Esme’s meeting had been a bust.
Esme closed her eyes and shook her head, feeling defeated. “They passed on it.” Words of encouragement quickly followed from all directions. Her mom threw an arm around her and her tías all shuffled around so they could pat her on the leg or the arm in an effort to reassure her.
“Their loss, mija. One day those dummies will wise up to your brilliance, and when they do, it’ll be too late.” Esme opened her eyes to find her tía Rebeca looking thunderous. She had always been Esme’s number-one fan. Even back when Esme would make short films on her phone about events in the neighborhood, Rebeca would always sit down and watch, fully focused on her creations. She never hesitated to give her serious feedback.
“Thanks, Tía,” Esme said wearily. She was grateful for their love and support. But she was too exhausted to go into the nonsense reasons the producers gave her for passing. “Enough about me. What else is going on—anything exciting happen today?”
To Esme’s surprise they didn’t push her to share more about her meeting. Instead every one of them shifted their expectant gazes to Esme’s mom, who in turn got that look she only had when she was about to hit Esme with a strong dose of the Dominican guilt trip. She braced herself. “Qué pasó, Mami?”
Ivelisse didn’t answer immediately, making a show of leaning over to get something that was sitting on the table. The energy in the room changed as soon as Ivelisse grabbed the white envelope. The tías all had their eyes on the piece of paper like it was a ticking bomb. For some reason Esme noticed that the vintage Tank Française watch Ivelisse never took off glinted in the light of the small lamp on the table. The gold Cartier watch had been a gift from Esme’s father. And even after everything he’d done, Ivelisse cared for it as if it was a rare treasure. “This came for you today, mija,” her mother said, bringing her out of her thoughts.
Esme narrowed her eyes at the name on the upper left corner of the envelope. She recognized it as the attorney who was handling her father’s estate. She took it from her mother, noticing it had been slit open. “Mami,” she chastised as she pulled the paper out. Ivelisse just lifted a shoulder, not even attempting contrition.
“It’s happening tomorrow, Esmeralda.”
Her mother didn’t have to say what. Esmeralda already knew.
There in large black font at the very top of the expensive stationery were the words FINAL NOTICE. Eleven months and twenty-seven days had passed since her estranged father’s death. Since she’d learned that, to the horror of his wife and his other children, he’d left a provision in his will to make Esmeralda the president and CEO of the television studio he’d turned into a billion-dollar empire. His last wish was to leave the daughter he’d barely acknowledged for most of her life at the helm of his company. Esme could still not quite believe it herself, and had done her best to ignore it whenever her mother had tried to show her the notices that had come every month since her father’s death. But she hadn’t turned it down, either, and now her time to decide was almost up.
Patricio Sambrano had started small in the ’70s, producing some radio dramas and news shows in Spanish for the Latinx community in New York City. The shows became an instant sensation, and with the vision that would make him a legend in the entertainment industry, he soon realized what his people wanted was to see their stories on the small screen. He hustled and harnessed old friendships on the island and across the US, and over the next fifteen years he brought Latinx life to American television. He’d been innovative, gutsy, political and unapologetic about showcasing the culture, and the end result had been Sambrano Studios, the first all-Spanish, all-color network in the United States.
Her father built something out of nothing with his ingenuity and raw talent. An Afro-Dominican man with barely a sixth-grade education had done all that. But as sharp as Patricio had been with his business, his personal life had been messy and undisciplined. Esmeralda herself was the result of one of the more chaotic times in Patricio’s life. Only weeks after becoming engaged to the daughter of a Dominican financier, he married her—consolidating his ability to expand the studio’s interests. It was a bold move that gave him the resources he needed to fully realize his dreams. It had been a surprise for everyone. Especially Esmeralda’s mother, who had been in a relationship with Patricio for almost five years and only found out about the wedding when she heard about it on the Sambrano evening news. She’d been
pregnant with Esmeralda when she realized that the man she loved had never intended to build a family with her.
When Ivelisse, devastated from his betrayal, finally told Patricio she was expecting, he told her he’d provide financially but he couldn’t be a father to any child outside his marriage. And in that, at least, he’d been true to his word.
And then after twenty-nine years of treating her like she didn’t exist, her father had overlooked his wife and his legitimate children to hand her the top position at Sambrano. Like that was supposed to make up for a lifetime of feeling like she didn’t matter. To erase the humiliation she and her mother had suffered at his hands. The decades of being ignored or receiving messages from third parties because her father couldn’t bother to pick up the phone when she called him.
Still, he had paid for the education that gave her the foundation to get a start in the industry and gain the experience she needed to run the studio. Because no matter how many times she’d told herself she didn’t care what her father thought of her, when choosing a college she picked the University of Southern California because of their film and television program. When deciding on graduate school she went for an MBA with a focus in entertainment. Because she was a fool with daddy issues and despite being invisible to him most of her life, she still yearned for his approval.
But she’d never asked him for a job. And because she was also her mother’s daughter, she’d wanted to show him that she didn’t need him. She wanted to climb to the very top of his own industry without him. Not once did Esme give her father the satisfaction of hearing her ask for his help. She never thought he’d noticed and yet, his last wish was to entrust her with his legacy. She could do so much as president of Sambrano, but not at the price of selling herself out. Her pride had to be worth something.
Texas Tough Page 17
