by Carla Luna
“I’m fine.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “Why don’t you go back to the kitchen and finish up?”
Ben’s gaze moved from Rafael to her and then back to Rafael. Like he was putting the pieces together. He narrowed his eyes at Rafael. “Are you fucking her?”
No. She had to take control before things went off the rails. She addressed her ex firmly. “Ben, it’s time for you to go. I’m going to call you a ride.”
“It’s true, isn’t it?” He gave her a look of contempt. “You’re nothing but a slut.”
“Don’t speak to her that way.” Rafael clenched his hands.
Her heart rate quickened at the sight of Rafael, fired up and ready to take down Ben. “Stop it, both of you. I’m exhausted. All I want to do is clean up and go home.”
Ben clamped his hand on her arm. “Answer the question. Are you fucking him or not?”
Rafael took another step closer. Though he was only a few inches taller than Ben, his muscular build and menacing scowl gave him a more intimidating appearance. “You need to leave.”
“Fuck you, Ramón,” Ben spat out. “You’re fired. I don’t want you or your damn company anywhere near my wedding.”
Victoria’s stomach plummeted. In all the worst-case scenarios she’d envisioned for the wedding—the trees not arriving, the weather turning nasty, the ballroom catching on fire—she’d never imagined a showdown between her ex and her lover.
“You can’t fire him,” she said. “There’s no way we can find another caterer before Saturday.”
He gave a dismissive snort. “I don’t care. I never wanted Mexican food in the first place.”
As much as it pained her to humble herself, she softened her tone. “Please don’t do this. Rafael’s worked so hard on this wedding. We both have.”
His lip curled in a sneer. “I don’t give a shit. Find me someone else. And get this prick out of here.”
“Victoria?” Rafael said. “Are you going to take this from him?”
She gnawed on her lip, biting it until she could taste blood. Ben was a first-class asshole. And he was too drunk to realize the absurdity of what he was asking. How on earth could she find someone to replace Tres Hermanos in three days?
But she knew what her father’s response would be. Ben was her client. And this was her job.
Rafael stared at her with a stunned expression on his face. “This is bullshit. We have a contract.”
Ben released her arm and turned toward Rafael. “Didn’t you hear me? Get the fuck out of here.”
“I heard you,” Rafael said. “But I want to hear it from Victoria.”
She wanted to stand up for him. To show her entitled ex he held no power over her. But she couldn’t find the words.
“If you don’t fire him, I’m calling your father,” Ben said to her. “And I’m telling him everything.”
No. Victoria could only imagine her father’s wrath if he learned about her fling. She forced herself to meet Rafael’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t have a choice.”
With a look of fury, he turned and strode out of the ballroom, slamming the door behind him. One of the silver ornaments fell off the nearest tree and crashed to the floor, shattering into tiny pieces. Like her heart.
Ben raked his hand through his hair. “That fucker was out of line. You need to find me someone who knows his place.”
“Are you out of your mind?” She wanted to shake him. “The wedding’s in three days.”
“You want me to call your father and tell him you’re not up for the job?”
“Don’t. Please. I’ll find someone else.” She blinked back tears as the shame washed over her.
Ben smirked. “Good girl.”
As his eyes raked over her again, she trembled, suddenly aware of her vulnerability. She dug her nails into her palms. “You…you should leave.”
“I’m going. You think I want you, knowing you’ve been banging that asshole?” He turned and left, tripping over one of the bins as he approached the door. He kicked it, sending it skittering across the room.
Only after he left did Victoria cry.
She was back to square one, no better off than she’d been before.
No. She was worse. She’d allowed herself to fall in love and contemplate freedom when it was obvious she couldn’t have either one.
Chapter 26
Rafael stormed out of Blackwood Manor and didn’t stop until he reached his car. He leaned against it and let out a long breath, watching the warm breeze send dusty brown leaves spiraling against the pavement. The balmy weather only deepened his remorse. If the night had gone as planned, he would have spent it with Victoria, making love under the stars.
Instead, he was in hell.
He wrenched open the door of his Honda and slid inside, intending to peel out of the parking lot. But he couldn’t start the engine. All he could do was sit motionless, staring at his phone, willing Victoria to call him. To apologize and beg him to come back. To assure him he hadn’t lost the contract.
But as time crawled by, minute by agonizing minute, he had to accept the horrible truth. She’d hung him out to dry. Not only that, he’d screwed up beyond measure. With one brief altercation, he’d lost the all-important Cavendish-Macalister wedding. If he’d stayed in the kitchen and kept his mouth shut, none of this would have happened. But instead of letting Victoria deal with her drunken ex on her own, he’d rushed to her defense. In his desire to protect her, he’d made everything worse.
How could he have been so stupid?
Sitting in his car solved nothing, so he forced himself to turn the key in the ignition. As he drove back to Escondido, he set his phone on the passenger seat in case Victoria called.
Not going to happen. You’re not worth it.
When he pulled into his spot outside the apartment complex, he hesitated before going in. As riled up as he was, he didn’t want to deal with Ernesto or Dario. He walked over to JJ’s Tap—the same dive he’d taken Victoria to—and found a stool at the bar. More than anything, he wanted to get hammered and forget he’d ever met her. But he wouldn’t let himself fall into that trap. Instead, he ordered a beer and nursed it slowly while a group of hipsters postured at the nearby pool table. Occasionally, he checked his phone to make sure it was still on, but the lack of notifications made his stomach churn.
By the time he got home, he could barely keep his eyes open. He crawled into bed, wishing he could sleep for the next forty-eight hours.
Tomorrow, he’d have to face his brothers and tell them everything.
When Rafael woke on Thursday morning, he grabbed his phone. He’d slept so deeply he could have missed a text from Victoria.
Nothing.
He staggered to the bathroom to take stock. Not good. Bags under his eyes, mussed-up hair, scruffy stubble. At least he wasn’t hungover. But mentally, he was still in the lowest circle of hell. He stepped in the shower while the water was still cold, hoping the chill would revive his senses. As he was getting dressed, his phone buzzed with a text. He leapt for it, praying it was from Victoria. Instead, he got a message from Tony. What time are you coming in to prep?
Prep. Jesus. They’d done so much prep for this event. Thousands of dollars of food, all wasted.
As much as he wanted to go back to bed, he had to face up to his mistakes before anyone put another minute of work into this damn wedding. What killed him the most was that he’d tried so hard to show his brothers he was responsible. And up until Wednesday night, he’d succeeded. He’d made everyone proud.
But now? He’d let his heart derail everything.
He sent Martin and Tony a text. Meet me in the tasting room ASAP.
In the hopes of calming his nerves, he skipped his usual cup of coffee. A decision he regretted during the drive to Tres Hermanos as the slow-burning agony of a caffeine headache seeped into his brain. The irony of confessing to his brothers in the room where he’d first met Ben and Missy wasn’t lost on him. He would have avoided so muc
h grief if Missy had chosen a different caterer.
You don’t mean that. You had a good time with Victoria.
Maybe so, but her actions had confirmed his worst fears. Even if she’d enjoyed his company and delighted in sharing his bed, she didn’t think he was worth fighting for. To her, he was nothing more than a passing diversion. Her dirty little secret.
Normally, the cheerful ambiance of the tasting room, with its colorful paintings and bright ceramic tiles, could perk up his mood. But not today, when his brothers were waiting for him. Tony and Martin sat at the large oak table in the center of the room, drinking coffee and munching cookies from a candy-cane-striped tin.
“What’s up?” Martin asked.
“You don’t look so good,” Tony added. “You sick?”
“Take a seat,” Martin said. “And help yourself to Luz’s cookies. I’ve put on five pounds this month with her Christmas baking.”
“It’s okay. I’ll stand.” Rafael couldn’t sit while delivering his news. Sweat prickled the back of his neck. He wished he was literally anywhere else than in this room, about to lose the respect of his brothers.
Nothing to do but jump into the deep end.
He shoved his hands into his pockets to stop them from shaking. “Last night, I fucked up, big-time.”
“Last night? At the decorating party? Luz said it went great. You finished all those trees.” Martin narrowed his eyes. “Did you hit on Victoria?”
Of course Martin would assume that. Rafael resisted the urge to snap at him, since the accusation wasn’t entirely baseless. “No. After everyone left, I stayed to help her clean up. Ben Macalister showed up drunk and started harassing her. I was in the back, so I didn’t see what went down. But when I came out of the kitchen, he had her backed up against the wall. She looked upset.”
He’d actually been worried Ben might assault her. After all, the dick had shown up late at night, no doubt assuming she would be alone.
Tony rubbed his hands over his face. “You didn’t take a swing at him, did you?”
“I didn’t touch him. I didn’t even raise my voice. But I asked Victoria if she was okay. And told Ben he should leave. But…”
He stopped and swallowed as the words stuck in his throat. At this point, he could omit the rest of the story. Let his brothers infer that Ben was nothing more than a drunk, entitled asshole who enjoyed throwing his power around. But Rafael needed to own up to his mistakes. To admit he’d screwed up, even if his family never forgave him.
“Ben figured out the truth,” he said. “That’s why he fired me.”
“He fired you?” Tony set down his coffee cup and stared at him, slack-jawed. “That’s not possible. We signed a contract. The final payment was due five days ago.”
Another wave of guilt washed over Rafael. “Missy hadn’t paid the balance yet. When I mentioned it to Victoria last night, she told me not to worry. She said she’d deal with it today.”
Victoria had assured him the Cavendish family was good for the money, but they’d been distracted. She’d promised to call Missy first thing in the morning to remind her the final payment was past due.
Too late for that now.
Martin looked at Rafael with murder in his eyes. “There’s something you’re not telling us. What made Ben so mad?”
“That…Victoria and I were…together.” Rafael couldn’t use the word “fucking,” because they’d shared more than just physical pleasure. Or so he’d thought.
Obviously, he’d been wrong.
Martin smacked his hand on the table. “You said you were done with that shit.”
Tony groaned. “Come on, man. You’ve known her for—what—two weeks? Couldn’t you keep it in your pants for that long?”
“I… ah…” If he wanted his brothers to trust him, Rafael needed to come clean. He grabbed a cup and filled it from the tap. He downed half the water before he got the courage to continue.
Without embellishing the details, he told them about his fling with Victoria, back when they’d met in Baja, five years ago. His brothers listened in stunned silence, occasionally grabbing another cookie from the tin. Despite the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, the act of confession freed a heavy weight from his shoulders. Up until now, he hadn’t realized how much he hated lying to his family.
Martin stood to face him. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell us this up front?”
Though he had no right to go on the defensive, Rafael couldn’t hide his irritation. “Because I hate that lady-killer shit. I know I fooled around a lot in high school, and then I messed up with Sandra, but I wasn’t that guy anymore. I hadn’t been with anyone in months.” He chugged the rest of his water, hoping it would ease the painful lump in his throat. “To be fair, at first I tried to get out of catering the wedding.”
Martin crossed his arms. “Because you acted like you couldn’t handle the responsibility. You never mentioned you’d screwed the wedding coordinator.”
“Is that why you wouldn’t let me take your place?” Tony asked. “Because of Victoria?” He glowered at his coffee cup. “Is it too early to start drinking?”
Rafael could have used a strong drink. But all the booze in the world wouldn’t fix the situation. “I’ll admit I wanted to impress her. But when we first started working together, we were just friends. The sex came later.” He caught Martin’s eye, begging his brother to see reason. “I’m sorry. We kept it a secret because we didn’t want to upset anyone. Once the wedding was over, we were going to take things public.”
A guess on his part, since Victoria had never admitted she wanted a relationship. But he wanted his brothers to understand she wasn’t a onetime hookup. He cared about her. That was the only reason he’d risked so much.
“Honestly?” he said. “I fell in love with her in Baja, and I still feel the same way.”
The silence that followed was so gut-wrenching he wanted to throw up. Especially since Martin’s scowl had grown even more menacing.
He took a step back, still jittery as hell. “I’m sorry.”
Martin sat back down, muttering curses under his breath. “After all this, Victoria let Ben fire you? That’s cold.”
Rafael let out a ragged exhale, relieved Martin was angry on his behalf. Like the time some punk-ass bully had hounded Rafael in the third grade, and fourteen-year-old Martin had shown up after school, threatening to pound the kid into the dirt.
“It sucks that she didn’t defend me,” Rafael said. “But that’s not the issue. I lost us a valuable contract. So…I’m going to turn in my apron. Three strikes and you’re out, right? I’ve had more than three strikes. I’m a fucking liability, and I don’t deserve to work for you or anyone in the family.”
The guilt pressed on him, crushing his chest like a vise. Mamá would be so disappointed. And he had no idea what he’d do next, where he’d go. He was running out of family members willing to take a chance on him. “I’ll work through the holiday rush so you’re not left hanging. But after that—”
Martin pointed to the chair. “Sit your ass down. Now.”
Rafael did as he said. Martin in full authority mode wasn’t someone he wanted to challenge.
“Are you saying you don’t want to work for me, little brother?” Martin demanded.
“No. That’s—”
“Then shut up. I’m not firing you. You’re family. And we support each other, even when we make mistakes.”
Rafael looked down, heat prickling his eyes. “But I messed up so badly.”
Tony slid the tin of cookies toward him. “Only because you didn’t tell us about Victoria. And you should have waited until after the wedding to get with her. But she wanted this, too, right?”
Rafael took a cinnamon-sugar cookie from the tin. “I thought she felt the same way I did.”
He sounded like a wuss, but Tony gave him a sympathetic shrug. “That sucks.”
Martin met Rafael’s eyes. “No bullshit, okay? I want you to swear you didn’t touch Ben
or threaten him in any way.”
More than ever, Rafael was grateful he’d kept his temper in check. “I swear it on Papá’s grave.”
“Then the guy’s an asshole,” Tony said. “What made him think he could harass the wedding coordinator?”
Jesus. His brothers didn’t know the truth—not the way Ernesto and Araceli did. Taking another cookie for sustenance, Rafael enlightened his brothers on the toxic, twisted history of Victoria and Ben.
Martin stood up again, back in angry older-brother mode. He looked like he was ready to punch the wall. “Let me get this straight. Our guy Ben dates Victoria, cheats on her, gets someone else knocked up, and then uses the same wedding date and venue? And then forces Victoria to coordinate the wedding?”
Rafael rubbed his temples, trying to stave off the throbbing pain. It was no use. He stood and filled a cup from the coffeepot on the back counter, without bothering to add cream or sugar. “The whole situation is dysfunctional as hell. Victoria’s dad insisted she take the job because he’s pals with Senator Macalister.”
“Figures,” Tony said. “Senator Mac’s got some serious clout. At least we get to keep the deposit.”
Rafael downed his coffee, wincing at the bitterness. The deposit was the only blessing in this whole shit show, but it wasn’t much. Ben and Missy owed them thousands more and not just for all the food and labor. His family had worked their asses off on Missy’s projects.
“Could we take him to court?” Tony asked. “Seems like a clear breach of contract.”
“I wouldn’t,” Rafael said. “He’s a wealthy lawyer with major political connections. He’d make it look like I was threatening him. It would be my word against his.”
“Victoria was there, too, right?” Martin asked. “Wouldn’t she speak up for you?”
Rafael snorted. If she hadn’t reached out to him by now, he couldn’t count on her. All she cared about was covering her ass. “I doubt it.”
“Well, fuck,” Tony muttered. “We’re screwed. What are we going to do with all this food?”
