She checked her makeup. Still on point. She went into one of the stalls to pee. She was finishing up, when a group of women filed in.
“Did you see the cousins square off?”
“Yes, that was hot.”
“Joaquín is good looking, but he seems so cold. His poor wife, Elena. I don’t blame her for dallying with the foreman.”
“That’s gossip.”
“But look at that cold fish.”
“His face looks carved out of ice, you’d probably need to stick a hot iron in his ass for him to bring some heat into bed.”
Ariana shook her head. Women could be vicious.
“Yes, compared to Miguel. Rawr!”
She froze and held her breath.
“Now that’s one hot papichulo.”
“Tall, broad, and all man. Good in bed?”
The girls giggled. Ariana clenched her fists. Two of the women went to the stalls. One washed her hands. So it appeared to be three of them.
“I wouldn’t mind climbing that mountain.”
“Ugh, did you see who he married?”
“Are they really married? She has a ring, but no diamond.”
“Ha! He got her cheap.”
“Don’t you know who she is?” The girl who didn’t use the toilet said.
“She looks familiar—” one started.
“That’s Raul Ortega’s sister!”
“Yes!”
“Madre de Dios. Why did Miguel marry her?”
“Look at her. She’s like a goddess.”
“But bad family.”
The sound of running water drowned their answer.
“—wouldn’t last. He’s just infatuated.”
“Why don’t you introduce me to him?”
“What? I’m not crazy enough to do that.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t think Miguel likes good girls. Rumor is, he has tattoos on both arms.”
“Oooh, I can be a bad girl for him!”
They laughed and Ariana gritted her teeth.
To her relief, they opened the door and the rest of their words were muffled and it was silent again in the restroom.
How humiliating!
She sat there with her ass hanging on the commode while she listened to three women drool over her husband and poke at her insecurities. At least they said she looked like a goddess. Ariana smiled bitterly. What happened when the beauty faded?
She exited the stall, washed her hands, and checked her makeup one more time.
Was Migs just infatuated? She fingered her wedding band. She never wanted a diamond. Their marriage wasn’t meant to last, but these past few weeks were pure bliss. It was real.
When she emerged from the ladies’ room, she was appalled to see three women standing at the mouth of the hallway. Were they the ones who were gossiping in the bathroom? Before one of them spotted her, Ariana turned the other way. She’d been in this country club when Tessa was going through the punch list with the event coordinator and knew her way around. She was about to turn into another corridor when she recognized Migs’ broad back.
Maybe she’d surprise him, but a voice stopped her cold.
“Really, Miguel, let’s talk about your wife,” Joaquín said.
“Careful what you say, cuz.”
“I’m being honest. How can you bring a gangster’s sister into the family?”
“None of your fucking business.”
“It is my fucking business, Miguel! You endanger all of us. Do you think Abbi Mena’s name carries as much weight now than it did then? They’re putting cocaine in our trucks! And, somehow, when I try to fix it, I’m the villain?”
“I’m done here.” The voices moved further into the hallway away from her.
What was she doing eavesdropping? Nothing good was coming out of this.
“What’s the matter, cuz? You’re regretting it, aren’t you?”
“I’m not talking to you about my marriage.”
He didn’t answer directly. A physical pain pierced her heart as she forced herself to move away, returning to the first hallway she’d escaped from. Thankfully, the three women weren’t there anymore. The past ten minutes were excruciating, and she could feel a headache coming. She had styled her hair in a sweeping updo, but right now the pins in her hair felt like they were digging into her skull.
“There you are,” Lettie hustled to her. “The speeches are about to begin. Have you seen Joaquín?”
“He went off with Migs.”
“Ugh!” Lettie sounded frustrated. She was the program manager. “He’s supposed to give the first speech.”
“Lettie, what are you panicking about?” Hector appeared beside them.
“Where is your brother?”
He laughed and nodded to his right. “You mean that brother?”
Two men were walking around the perimeter of the ballroom, their faces both thunderous.
“Hmm, it looks like their talk did nothing,” Hector said and stopped a waiter holding a tray of drinks. He grabbed a glass of wine and offered it to the women. Ariana and Lettie declined, so he shrugged and took it for himself.
“Abuelita will notice.” Lettie shoved her cousin forward. “Can you tell your damned brother to smile? And you.” She turned her attention to Ariana. “Do something about Migs’ face.”
She stalked back to the stage.
“Well, you heard the general. When did she become so bossy?” Hector took a sip from his glass and started to walk away. “I better get away from your side. Here comes your man.”
Indeed, Migs was heading straight for them. The cousins nudged each other on the shoulder, on purpose, as they passed.
These two.
She was also aware of eyes on them as Migs grabbed her hand and brought her close. The doubts and heartache plaguing her eased a little. Between the two of them, their relationship was fine, but Migs wasn’t an island. He loved his family, and Ariana was a complication. How long before cracks in their marriage appeared? They couldn’t stay cocooned forever from the rest of the world.
“You doing okay?” Migs asked, his brows drawn together, eyes studying her face.
She was unable to withstand his scrutiny. “Yes. I was looking for you. Lettie was panicking.”
“Yeah, Tessa texted me. Program is about to begin.”
At the long table sat Abbi Mena’s sons and daughters with their spouses. Because Joaquín’s father—Don Pepito had been the eldest, Joaquín took his place at the table with his wife—a fair-skinned mestiza with thick, wavy hair. Ariana remembered the gossip in the ladies’ room, wondering if it was true that Elena was cheating on her husband.
Migs led her to another table right behind the long one.
The emcee took to the stage and told everybody to take their seats.
“Anyone who knows my abuelita knows that when you visit her home, you need to be prepared to eat all day. That’s why we Alacantara-Walkers are very lucky.”
Laughter.
Ariana smiled as her husband spoke in front of everyone. He was the last speech before dinner, thank goodness. Joaquín gave a long, boring one that lasted over five minutes. Delia followed Joaquín and then two other cousins went. Interestingly enough, only Migs talked about food his grandmother made.
“The only time she wouldn’t be cooking was when she was obsessed with a Mexican telenovela.” He grinned at Abbi Mena. “Everyone would breathe a sigh of relief when the season ended because that would mean the tortillas wouldn’t get burned or she wouldn’t forget to put the salt in the carnitas.”
Everyone cracked up and when the laughter died down, Abbi Mena interjected, “That was one time.”
“Food has always been the cornerstone of our family,” Migs continued. “It’s not surprising that it’s our business as well and that’s a heritage we want to preserve. I asked Abbi Mena once why she was always in the kitchen. I was eight years old and I wanted her to fly a kite with me instead of slaving over a stove. She said it
was her way of showing us love. But of course, to a boy my age that didn’t make sense. It wasn’t until I was a teenager and thought picking a fight with someone twice my size was a good idea, that I realized what she meant. I got my ass kicked. My mouth was swollen and it hurt to eat. And yet, abuelita painstakingly prepared food soft enough for me to handle. And the best part?” He grinned. “It tasted like dessert. And even now, anything horchata brings back those memories.”
He gazed fondly at Abbi Mena, putting a hand over his heart. “Te amo, abuelita.” There were more aws from the crowd than in any other speech preceding his, because here was a tough-looking guy unabashed of expressing love for his grandmother. Abbi Mena dabbed the corners of her eyes while emotions pricked Ariana’s own.
It was at that moment that an overwhelming ache seized her heart—that longing to be a part of Migs’ family. The purity of the love that zinged between his grandmother and him was palpable. When Migs announced dinner, the applause was deafening. He chuckled and added a quip about not knowing if that was for the beauty of his speech or the end of it.
He must have made an impression on the crowd because he was stopped by a couple of people who wanted a word with him. The waitstaff uncovered the dishes that were laid for a buffet line on both sides and some guests rushed to it while others took their time.
“You’re waiting for Miguel?” Tessa asked.
“I am.”
“Cesar can stay with you. Gigi is asleep anyway.” She nodded to her husband and the sleeping child at the toddler chair.
“Why don’t you both go? I can watch her.” She glanced again at Migs. “Looks like he’s going to take a while.”
“Ugh, that’s Tio Cris. He likes to talk and he’s fond of Miguel.” Tessa gave a pained smile. “He’s going be a while all right.”
20
Migs tried his best not to show his irritation with Tio Cris. He was his godfather after all. The man had been a patient uncle and Migs had looked up to him when he was a boy. But, although he would love to catch up with him, Miguel was impatient to get back to Ariana. He glanced over his shoulder and saw her give him a small wave.
He lifted his chin and flattened his mouth.
“Ah … impatient to get back to your esposa, huh?” Tio Cris waggled his brows. “Bah, newlyweds. It’s still exciting, but take it from your tio, you don’t want to show how crazy you are about your wife.”
Apparently with age, his uncle gave the suckiest advice as well, and yet he couldn’t help asking, “Why?”
“Because then they’ll use it to their advantage and blackmail you into doing what they want or buying them expensive diamonds.”
Migs thought of the one in his pocket. “Listen, Tio—”
“That’s what your Tia did.” He leaned in. “Heaven help you if she withholds sex—”
TM—fucking—I. What the fuck?
A buzz in his pocket gave him the perfect excuse to leave this nightmarish conversation. “Sorry, I’m expecting a call.”
“But it’s dinner—”
Migs waved him off and was already walking toward Ariana when he saw the number.
Garrison.
Why the fuck was he calling him now? “Hold a sec.”
He gestured to Ariana that he had to take the call and did an about-face. His wife didn’t look too pleased. “What’s up? Kind of a bad time here.” He pushed open one of the access doors on the divider-walls reserved for staff.
“I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t important,” Garrison growled.
“What are you—”
“Shut up and listen. Carillo is in San Diego. Signal intelligence confirms this. Intel from DEA corroborates. Benito was spotted near the country club.”
Migs froze. “I need to give Leon a heads up.”
“I have a list of—”
A booming sound came from within the ballroom.
“What the fuck was that?” John yelled.
But Migs was already barreling back into the ballroom area. Smoke and utter chaos met his eyes.
Ariana!
People screamed and bodies littered the floor, groaning. The floor shook again, followed by another ear-splitting sound. The elaborate structure behind the stage where he’d just given his speech collapsed and slammed into the long table where Abbi Mena and his parents sat.
Nausea rose in his throat. Fighting against the surge of guests, his eyes searched frantically for his wife and family.
“Migs!” It was Tessa crying and clawing to get to him. He shoved people out of the way and yanked his sister to his side. “Where’s Ari?”
“Gigi!”
“Okay, we’ll find her,” Migs said in a steady voice. Of course his sister would think about her daughter, but how did they get separated?
“She’s with Gigi!”
Finally, he saw Ariana stagger to her feet by the table where he’d left her, and she was holding his niece.
“Gigi!” Tessa cried.
When they reached them, Migs crushed his wife in his arms, but his brain switched to his parents and he couldn’t see to her comfort. He saw Pops helping his mother to her feet, completely dazed. But where was Abbi Mena?
“Is Mamá all right?” Migs shouted.
“Yes. See to your grandmother,” Pops yelled.
“She’s here.” Joaquín fell to his knees.
Migs saw his beloved grandmother sprawled on the floor right beside what looked like scaffolding and pieces of board. His lungs seized as he vaulted over the table to get to her.
“Her arm is trapped under there,” Joaquín said hoarsely. “I don’t want to move her.”
“Don’t. Until the EMTs and the firemen arrive.”
“What can I do?” Ariana rounded by his side.
At the sight of her, Joaquín rose to his feet, his face darkening with rage. Migs anticipated his reaction and blocked his path to Ariana.
“Do?” Joaquín spat. “Haven’t you done enough? This is because of you!”
Migs grabbed his collar, snarling, “Shut it!” And in a low, steady voice he said, “Speak to my wife that way again, and I don’t care where we are, Joaquín, I will break your fucking jaw. You don’t want to fuck with me. Now, focus!”
Miguel crouched down to check his grandmother’s vitals.
“Police and ambulance are on their way.” Hector skidded to a stop beside them. He grabbed his head in anguish, his face pale. “Mierda. How could this have happened?”
“Her heartbeat is strong and she’s breathing,” Migs said in relief and tried to take his own advice and to focus and assess the situation. “This might not be over.” He glanced up at Ariana. “You need to get out of here.” And then to Hector, he said, “Take her to Leon.”
His cousin nodded. “He has the other Marias and is helping my men herd other people out.”
“I’m not leaving without you!” Ariana cried.
Joaquín glared at her, but Migs shot him another scathing look. He got to his feet and clasped her shoulders. “I can’t concentrate if you’re here. I need you safe.”
She looked about to argue but gave a slight nod. Hector took her arm.
“Mamá!” Delia screamed. Migs stopped his mother and addressed Pops. “Get them out. There may be other explosives.” His other tios and tias were dazed as well but they understood the urgency to leave immediately.
“Miguel …” his mother whispered. She was shaking uncontrollably, and he could see the conflict in her eyes.
“We’ll stay with Abbi Mena until help arrives,” Joaquín said. “¡Vamos!”
The people around them jolted into action and made for the exits. His eyes followed Ariana who glanced over her shoulder even as she was being rushed away by Hector.
He crouched again beside his grandmother. In a way he was relieved Abbi Mena was unconscious given that her arm was pinned. He couldn’t bear the thought of her in pain.
“Funny, huh? You and I agreeing on something?” Joaquín said, dropping down beside Migu
el. “Maybe until the very end.”
Unbidden respect surfaced for his cousin. A man’s true grit was tested in times of adversity and nothing was more adverse than this situation given there could be a ticking time bomb still in the vicinity. A pit in his stomach had him second guessing letting Ariana out of his sight, and his blood ran cold as Garrison’s words sunk into him.
Carillo is in San Diego.
Fuck!
He pulled out his phone and called Leon. No answer, so he texted him to keep Ariana within his sight. He surged to his feet, eyes frantically sweeping across the ballroom. People were still staggering toward the exit, but he couldn’t see Ariana or Hector. No sign of his immediate family either.
“Where are you going?” Joaquín barked when Migs walked away as his eyes continued scouring the ballroom.
He called Garrison.
Ariana shuffled on her heels, looking over her shoulder where Migs dropped down beside Abbi Mena. Anxiety choked her, making it difficult to breathe. She wanted to stay, but she couldn’t distract him, not when there could be another bomb, but also because of the hate flowing off Joaquín.
He was Migs’ ally in this, but not when she was around. And her husband needed all the support he could get.
Hector suddenly veered from the path the rest were taking and led her to a side access door. She stopped just inside its threshold, digging her heels in.
“Why here?” she asked.
“This is a shortcut to Leon.”
The sight of an empty corridor raised the hairs on the back of her neck. She was regretting that she left her purse with her phone, but she had Gigi with her when pandemonium broke loose and forgot her things.
She resisted his pull.
“Ariana!” Hector growled. “We need to go.”
Protector Of Convenience (Rogue Protectors Book 2) Page 19
