One Way to Succeed (Casas de Buen Dia Book 1)

by Marjorie Pinkerton Miller

  For all the research she’d done in looking into Rick and his past, she had spent no time looking into the size or success of his mother’s business. Obviously, things had gone very well for the D’Matrio Construction Company.

  “Wow.” Amy sat and stared at the mansion while Rick hopped down from the cab and walked around to the passenger door. “If I could buy any house in the world, this might be it,” she said.

  Immediately, she regretted it. It sounded like a wish for an inheritance, she realized, and that was the last thing she wanted to imply. Luckily, Rick didn’t react. He held out his hand to help her out of the cab, studiously watching her feet as she stepped down.

  Inside, the decor was as perfect as the exterior. Tiles lined the risers of stairs, Navajo rugs lay at oblique angles on hand-scraped wood and terracotta floors, and more ornamental ironwork graced the interior balconies that opened up to second floor rooms. Amy stood inside the front door and let her eyes wander up to the ceiling and back down to the perfectly balanced Mission-style furnishings as Rick took off to locate his mother.

  “I am way out of my league,” she whispered. “How the hell am I going to get through this?” Suddenly she wished she’d taken a couple more swigs of that Jack Daniels before they left the office.

  The sound of toenails clicking on floor tile drew her attention down a long hallway to her right. A big yellow lab pranced toward her followed by a petite brunette who appeared to be about the size Amy had been at the age of ten, who was followed in turn by Rick. The woman’s hair was pulled up on top of her head as well, and she wore a little black dress with an empire waist and a standing collar, a modest strand of fresh-water pearls, and tiny pearl earnings. She held out her hand as she reached Amy.

  “Welcome Amy!” she said warmly, grasping Amy’s hand with both of hers. “I’m Janet, Rick’s mom. Welcome to our home.”

  Amy looked down and noticed the woman’s long, ringless fingers. Somehow she had assumed Rick’s mother would be a big, masculine woman—nearly as tall as her six-foot-three son, with the bulk and toughness to operate back hoes, bulldozers, and front-end loaders as well as bark orders at similarly bulky and tough union workers out on construction sites.

  “You have a beautiful home,” Amy said, smiling and radiating as much humility as she could muster.

  “Only half as beautiful as its guest!” Janet said. “Rick didn’t tell me…” Janet turned toward her son and punched him in the arm.

  “Tell you what?” Rick was obviously not as charmed by his mother’s lovely presence as Amy was.

  “That she was so pretty,” Janet said, turning back to Amy. She leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “Run! Don’t stop at go! You are too good for him!”

  “Well, I’m working for him, not dating him,” Amy said, fighting to keep her smile from morphing into a frown. Did his mother really think she was dating him?

  “No matter,” his mother said, winking up at her. “Run anyway! Oh, and this is Lenny.”

  Janet gestured at the dog, sitting patiently off to the side of the human gathering. Hearing his name, Lenny stood and walked close enough to nuzzle Amy’s hand. Amy scratched his ear and lifted his head to look into his eyes.

  “He’s still young,” she said, surprised that such a young animal would be so well behaved. “Such clear eyes, and no gray around the muzzle yet.”

  “Ah, you like dogs! Yes, Lenny is only four, but he’s got an old soul. And now, let’s toast this beautiful new friendship. Come on back into the kitchen. That’s where all the action is around here. Elaine is already here. Howard should be along any minute.”

  She turned and led Amy back down the hallway. Rick looked down at her and rolled his eyes as she passed, following with Lenny.

  Elaine was nearly as tall as her brother—they must have gotten their height from their father—and nearly as good looking. Elaine was working in the family business as an attorney. She managed the contracts, the licensing, the construction bonds, the labor negotiations, and settled or litigated any disputes that arose out of business. Listening in, Amy began to realize that their business was much bigger than she had assumed. She could learn a lot from Elaine, if she had the chance.

  She had forgotten all about her cleavage as she and Elaine listened to Janet’s stories. The tiny woman was as animated as a ten-year-old, and as funny as the best class clown. The three women stood around the large, tiled kitchen island with flutes of a crisp, expensive champagne, while Rick sat back, seemingly focused on Lenny’s needs for treats, tummy rubs, and ear-scratches. But when Elaine’s husband walked through the back door and into the kitchen, Howard’s eyes immediately locked in on the crease between Amy’s breasts.

  Amy couldn’t put her finger on why, but she got the distinct impression that Howard was part lizard. Perhaps it was his buggy eyes, or maybe the bumpy texture of his skin. She wondered what great qualities he had going for him that made Elaine choose him over the thousands of other men who must have tried to win their way into this family through marriage.

  “Her face is up here,” Elaine said, laughing at her husband and pointing up at Amy’s nose. “Don’t be such a pig.”

  “Sorry!” he exclaimed, still staring at Amy’s breasts. “What am I supposed to do? I have been hanging around with ugly men all day, and then I’m confronted with this!”

  Rick sprung to action. He grabbed a shawl off the back of a bar stool and tossed it over Amy’s shoulders.

  “I think it’s time for us to take a little tour of the grounds,” he announced, gesturing toward the back door for Amy to lead the way. Amy was relieved. “We’ll be back shortly.”

  “But, I just got here!” Howard protested. Elaine socked him in the gut.

  Stepping down the curved terracotta stairs onto the expansive patio in the back of the house, Amy pulled the shawl around her shoulders and tried to cover herself.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess I should have dressed differently.”

  Rick smiled down at her, and she could tell he was taking a good look at the same view that had captivated Howard.

  “No, I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have warned you about my brother-in-law. He’s quite a piece of work. Come on, let me show you the garden and the casita.”

  As they walked down a lighted tile path, past a hedge of oleander, into a broad opening surrounded by hundreds of flowering plants, succulents, and cacti, Rick reached for her hand. She debated whether to pull it away, but the warmth of his touch dissuaded her. She expected he would launch into a description of the garden’s genesis, but instead, he led her directly back to a small house at the rear of the large lot. It matched the big house in style, but not in grandiosity.

  Rick pushed open the front door and held it for Amy. She walked into the dark living room, and blinked, waiting for her eyes to adjust. Again Rick surprised her, reaching around from behind to encircle her waist with his arms and burying his lips in the side of her neck. Amy’s back arched involuntarily, and she felt a jolt of excitement run up her spine from between her legs. She stood still, trying to make sense of both his actions and her reaction.

  “Amy, I can’t pretend any longer,” he whispered, his lips touching her ear. “When I ran into you yesterday, I knew you felt this, too. Please tell me you do.”

  Amy swallowed hard. She wanted to turn around and pull his face down to hers, bury her lips in his, and let him explore her body with his warm hands. She had wanted that for nearly as long as she had known him, but now she froze.

  “Amy,” Rick pleaded. “Please.”

  Finally, she pulled loose, turned and found his hands. She grasped them tightly and held them down at his sides.

  “Rick,” she said softly, surprised at how husky her voice sounded. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I am working for you. I can’t let this attraction ruin things. I need to …”

  Rick ignored her words and pulled her tightly against him. She braced for a deep, hard kiss, but he surprised her a thi
rd time. His lips touched hers lightly, and then tugged gently, like tiny little pinches from the softest fingers, and she longed for more. The seductive touch of his tongue killed her resistance, and she reached up his back with open hands, pulling his chest hard against hers.

  He moaned. His kiss became more desperate, more searching and she responded, sucking his tongue into her mouth. His hands moved up from her waist, slowly, agonizingly slowly. Finally, they cupped her breasts, and he pinched her nipples lightly through her dress.

  Amy lost her breath, and pulled her lips away.

  “We can’t do this,” she panted. “You have a kitchen full of family in there waiting for us.”

  Rick pulled her face to his chest and held it there. He was breathing as heavily as she was. His heart was pounding.

  “No, of course,” he said. “Let’s go back in there and get this over with quickly. Then we can get back to town, and …” He stopped.

  “And, what?” Amy laughed. She knew what. She knew exactly what. And his next kiss showed he did, too.

  ~

  The evening had started out pleasant enough, and if Rick hadn’t warned Amy about his alienation from his mother, she might have been more surprised by how it ended. By the time the free-flowing alcohol had done serious damage to everyone’s equilibrium, it was clear that the schism between Rick and his mom wasn’t simply a product of his own insecurities. There was some genuine dislike on both accounts, and although Amy wasn’t privy to it, she surmised there was some nasty family history behind it all.

  The dinner was catered by a couple of young men who arrived about the time Rick and Amy returned from the casita. Amy was grateful for the timing. No one asked them silly questions about where they’d been or what they’d been doing. They had dropped hands before coming back into the house, and Amy quickly moved away from Rick as he slid into a chair across the table from her. She imagined that if they stayed close to each other, the sexual tension between them would appear as visible heat waves in the air.

  Amy tried to focus on the conversation at the table, but she was having a hard time thinking of anything except Rick’s kiss and the way his hands felt on her breasts. She caught her breath a couple of times, glad that the noisy conversation at the table covered for her.

  At one end of the table, Howard and Rick started the kind of argument about local politics that only two people who had spent their entire lives in the valley could have. Amy had only been in town for a couple of years, and had no reason to focus on the various factions the way someone working with city officials on a regular basis did. At the other end, Elaine and her mother argued about an offer to buy out D’Matrio Construction that they had received from another general contractor in town. Elaine opposed it; what would she do with her life if she lost her job?

  “You’d just live a life of leisure, darling,” her mother said. “I, for one, am ready for a little retirement.”

  “But you’re fifty-five,” Elaine said. “I’m not.”

  Amy was surprised that the two women were willing to discuss such an important family matter in front of her. Maybe they thought Rick had already shared the news of the offer with her.

  “Mom.” Rick interrupted. He and Howard had taken a break from their political dispute. “I saw Carl this week at his job downtown. You know the one across from the Blue Coyote? He wanted to know if you were interested in selling out to him too.”

  “Well, that would make two offers in two weeks,” Janet said, pointing her fork at Elaine. “Don’t you think that’s a sign?”

  “You’d probably get a pretty nice payout,” Rick said.

  “Oh, so you’re on the side of selling out too?” Elaine turned on him angrily.

  “Rick, you have nothing to say about this,” Howard joined the fray.

  Amy started to wish they’d all consumed a little less wine. It appeared that a full-blown family argument was about to be launched.

  “He’s right, Rick,” Janet jumped back in. “You decided you wanted nothing to do with a woman-run company a long time ago, and now is not the time to start butting back in.”

  “Mother!” Rick was angry now. “You know why I bowed out. It had nothing to do with you being a woman.”

  “Of course it did,” Janet said. She turned to Amy. “I think if you ask him, he’ll deny being a sexist pig. He thinks he’s some kind of modern man because he can sleep around and isn’t beholden to his parents. But he is a sexist pig. Look at that office of his. Is there a woman there who isn’t in a clerical position?”

  “Mother, I wish you wouldn’t talk about me like I’m not here,” he said.

  “Well, you might as well not be,” she retorted, “for as much as you ever listen.”

  ~

  The arguments at the dinner table eventually petered out, and by the time they sang happy birthday, consumed half of a layer birthday cake, and Amy and Rick prepared to leave, everyone had calmed down.

  As Rick steered around Howard’s car and out the driveway, Amy wondered where the animosity between him and his mother came from. Had it started before he left for college? When he got back?

  Once they got back on Highway 111 for the straight shot back up to Palm Springs, Rick turned to her and smiled wanly.

  “I’m sorry about all of that noise back there,” he said. “I probably didn’t warn you enough.”

  “Well, someday maybe you can explain it all to me,” she said.

  They rode in silence, and Amy started to wonder whether the arguments had killed her libido. Had her passion been drowned out by their anger? Had his? She played the scene in the casita over in her mind to see if she had any desire left.

  The memory was more powerful than she expected. Her breath deepened, and her body felt electric. She glanced over at Rick. She waited until they crossed the city limits into Palm Springs before she reached over the wide console between them and put her hand on his thigh.

  “Amy,” he said, and stopped. It was a bad sign.

  “What?”

  “I think you were right. We can’t do this. We are working together, and I think we need to take things slowly. I was wrong to push you tonight.”

  “Yes,” she answered quickly and pulled her hand back into her lap. “Yes, you are right. Let’s go slow.”

  She turned and looked up at the street lights whipping by.

  “If we go at all,” she finally added.

  ~ Eight: Rick ~

  When Amy came out of her office to meet him in the lobby for the trip to the birthday dinner at his mother’s house, the first thing Rick saw was cleavage.

  Oh dear! he thought. How the hell am I going to keep my eyes away from that? He dragged his eyes upward to her face and hair—both just as perfect as the gentle curve of her breasts. If he was going to have to focus on her face in order to get through the evening. It wouldn’t exactly be torture.

  He ducked back into his office and grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniels he kept in a desk drawer for toasting deals and project completions. Now he needed it for courage. Keeping his cool around that body and that face while at the same time enduring an evening his mother was going to take some significant amount of liquid fortitude.

  “Shot?” he asked, popping back out into the hallway with the bottle in one hand and two plastic Dixie cups in the other. He walked quickly past Amy to the lobby, beating the temptation to glance again at the plunging neckline of her dress. “We might need it once we get there.”

  “Aren’t you driving?”

  “Yup,” he said, pouring out a couple of shots at the receptionist desk. “One shot is well below my limit. And, anyway, we also need to toast your first week at Buen Dia.”

  “A half week,” she corrected him.

  “Is that all it’s been?” He poured the Dixie cups with generous shots, and lifted on for a toast. “Then, I look forward to the first full week!”

  Later, driving back into town from his mother’s house, he knew the angry arguments over dinner had spoiled thi
ngs. Could they possibly finish what they’d started in the casita now? The argument with his mother reminded him why he had to keep Amy at a distance. When she put his hand on his leg in nearly inappropriate proximity to his crotch, he knew he had to push her back.

  By the time he pulled into the garage and walked around to open her door, Amy had gotten the message. She didn’t look at him when he reached up with his hand to help her climb down from the truck. A minute later, she was gone.

  ~

  After Amy left, he went into the office and sat at his desk, nursing a cup of coffee with a splash of Jack Daniels. He felt bereft, like his body had been ready for her and now every nerve ending was aching with disappointment. Why had he kissed her? He’d had no choice. He had wanted her so badly, he would have had to move out of California if he was going to keep himself away from her.

  But now what? In kissing her, and feeling how eagerly she had kissed him back in the casita, had he created exactly the situation he had vowed he would avoid as long as he lived: a romantic relationship at work? He had to get rid of her: not from his life, but out of the office. He wanted her as a girlfriend, not as an employee—maybe even as a potential wife, but certainly not as the woman who would take his business away from him.

  He picked up the desk phone in his office and called Kent in San Francisco. It was late, but Kent rarely went to bed before two or three in the morning.

  As he waited for Kent to answer, he wished he had a good friend in Palm Springs—someone he could get together with over a beer and talk things through. He had kept his nose to grindstone for a decade now, since starting his business, and other than his bankers, lawyers, and accountants, he had developed very few relationships. Sure, he knew hundreds of people, and all the real estate developers in town knew him. But knowing someone well enough to slap on the back at a social event and knowing someone well enough to confide in about something like his problem with Amy were entirely different kinds of knowing.