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

by Marjorie Pinkerton Miller

  “No,” she said. “I never lied. You assumed. That’s different. In fact, at first I was disappointed that you didn’t want to come into the company with me. But then, I saw what you were capable of doing, your vision, your calm management. I’ve been so proud of you. None of that would have been possible if you had been reduced to building roads.”

  Rick didn’t know how to react. He had never heard his mother express any appreciation for his work or his business. Was that because she was afraid that eventually this very conversation would result—that eventually, she would have to tell him the truth about his father?

  He stood up and thrust his hands deep in his pants pockets. Had he already stopped worshiping the man, like his mother had fourteen years ago? Maybe, but it would take time, and it wouldn’t be easy, he knew.

  “I’m going to go for a walk,” he said softly. “I need to step outside to clear my head.”

  “Fine,” his mother stood up and walked over to hug him quickly. “I understand. I’ll go get dinner ready. I made your favorite: carnitas and beans.”

  ~

  When they sat down in the dining room to eat, mother and son said little to each other. They had already talked more that evening than Rick could ever remember, but it was clear to Rick that his mother understood him a lot better than he had ever understood her. If she was telling him the truth, then he had assumed so much about her that was wrong. And given the fact that Beau was now available to counter any lies, she would have been foolish to embellish history to make herself look better. If there was anything about his mother that would never change, it was that she was not a fool.

  “I’ll take care of Beau,” Janet finally broke through the silence. “If he was driving a lumber truck, I can undoubtedly use him on my heavy equipment crew.”

  “Thanks,” Rick said. “I don’t really think he’s my kind of guy. I can’t imagine him as a finish carpenter. Although that’s probably unfair. What do I know?”

  “What are you working on next?” His mother offered a change of subject.

  “God, I don’t know,” Rick said, relieved to move on. “My projects are nearly all finished, and I’ve been working on trying to get a small deal done up in the Movie Colony. But then, today, I got this letter from the woman in Mexico who owns those three empty lots in Warm Sands that everyone has lusted after forever. Maybe there’ll be something there.”

  “Really?” Although most of her jobs involved highway construction out of town, his mother knew Palm Springs well enough to know exactly what property he was talking about. “That’s wonderful. But how did that fall in your lap?”

  “Unfortunately, it was Amy. She went to Mexico behind my back and somehow convinced the woman that I should develop her property for her.”

  “How the hell can that be unfortunate?”

  “Well, even if I was right for the wrong reason, the woman’s letter proves that Amy is power-hungry, manipulative, and not to be trusted. There’s no way I can go forward with it.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “The woman wrote that she wouldn’t do the deal with me unless Amy was project manager. I don’t think she would have included that provision if Amy hadn’t told her to.”

  Janet put down her fork, got up and left the dining room. She walked back in with a bottle of Malbec and started to remove the cork.

  “Here, Mom, let me do that,” Rick said, standing up and reaching for the bottle.

  His mother shooed him away, and Rick sat back down.

  “You need to do some new thinking, here Rick,” she said, turning the corkscrew into the bottle with practiced ease. “Back when you thought I pushed your father out for no reason other than my greed, that was the filter you were seeing Amy through. That’s the filter you saw all women in your business through. But, now you know better. Maybe the señora liked Amy. Maybe Amy is just really good at negotiation.”

  “Well, I have no reason to believe that,” Rick said.

  “Let me tell you this, son,” she said, popping the cork out of the bottle and refilling Rick’s empty glass. “If it turns out that the provision wasn’t Amy’s idea, that she was only trying to help you, you owe her an apology. I hope you’re man enough to deliver it.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Rick said. “It’s too late. She’s gone to L.A. She’s gone back with Rob.” Rick tried not to let his mother see how much it hurt to say that, to know that, to accept that. He shook his head and met his mother’s eye. He could see he hadn’t succeeded. His disappointment must have been why she walked around the table, put her arms around her son's shoulders and held him tight.

  ~

  Rick got to the office earlier than usual the next day. He couldn’t sleep anyway, and it seemed there was so much to figure out: how to respond to Marlena Benavides, how to break in his new COO—if he accepted the job offer—and how to find a replacement for Amy. He also needed to make some progress on his Movie Colony plans, or his contractors would be moving on to other companies’ projects to keep busy.

  Sandra had not yet arrived to occupy the reception desk when he heard the bells on the front door jingle and a woman’s voice called out, “Is anyone here? Is Rick D’Matrio here?”

  More surprises? Rick wondered. He questioned whether he wanted to get up and see who was looking for him before eight o’clock in the morning. Beau’s arrival the day before was enough to satisfy his need for surprises for several months.

  Before he could decide, a tiny grey-haired woman stood in his doorway and peered in. She was dressed in a neat Chanel suit and carried a small clutch that hung on her arm by a delicate chain.

  “Excuse me?” she asked in perfect English that made him question his first impression that she was Mexican. “Can you please tell me if Rick D’Matrio is in yet?”

  Rick stood up quickly and motioned for the woman to come in. He walked around his desk, placed his hand under her elbow, and escorted her to the guest chair next to his desk.

  “I’m Rick D’Matrio,” he said. “I am going out on a limb here, but I’m guessing that you are Senora Benavides.”

  “Yes,” she said. “Marlena Benavides de Pascal. And I have to say you are every bit as handsome as I figured you must be.”`

  “You figured how?”

  “No way could you have captured that girl’s heart unless you were a young Cary Grant, is what I thought,” the woman said, chuckling slightly.

  “Please sit,” Rick said. There were some compliments that felt good, and then there were some that just signaled more trouble coming. That was one of them. “And tell me why you are here.”

  ~

  Marlena started at the same place she had with Amy: telling Rick how she had lived in Palm Springs for years, and how she and her husband had purchased the property. Then, she reiterated her proposal, the same one she had written in the letter. He had assumed that she had an attorney or business manager write it for her, but from the way she laid out the terms and the specifics of what she wanted, it was clear that she was perfectly capable of handling this negotiation on her own.

  “Now, what I need to know is whether you are interested in doing this with me, or if you have a counter proposal you would like to discuss first,” she concluded.

  “Why did you choose me?” he asked first.

  “I told you in my letter. Amy was the first person who ever showed up at my door and asked me what I wanted to do with the property. Her question wasn’t just how much money I wanted. She wanted to know what my vision was. We had a nice conversation about it. Everyone else just wanted to shove something down my throat.”

  “I’m glad she didn’t shove anything down your throat,” Rick said, and was immediately embarrassed by the sarcasm in his throat. “Because I think she was trying to shove something down my throat.”

  “What do you mean?” Marlena looked surprised. Apparently, Amy had won her over completely.

  “First of all, she no longer works here,” he said. “Secondly, I can’t let a
ny woman blackmail me into doing something.”

  “I’m not blackmailing you!” Marlena was clearly offended.

  “No, but Amy did.”

  “How?”

  “Getting you to put that condition into your proposal. The one where she would be project manager.”

  “Oh, that wasn’t her idea,” Marlena said. “And you’re telling me you let that woman walk out of your life? If that’s the case, you are not half the man she seems to think you are. I’m surprised that she loves you so much.”

  Why, Rick wondered, did everyone assume that Amy loved him? All he was sure of was that she was physically attracted to him, but that was nothing new. Walking around with his father’s face and his mother’s dark eyes had pretty much guaranteed him a steady source of willing partners since he was old enough to know what to do with them. Amy wasn’t any different.

  Marlena sat and watched Rick while he tried to imagine how he would feel about her proposal if he believed her—if he believed that Amy hadn’t asked her to blackmail him into letting her manage it. All of his assumptions about her motives were starting to disintegrate in front of his eyes, and what he saw emerging from the detritus was his admiration for her. She was smart. She was amazingly capable and quick. Obviously, she had a talent for negotiation. And, of course, she was beautiful. Sexy and beautiful.

  Rick caught himself. He had to quit focusing on Amy and especially her body or he was going to embarrass himself as his crotch swelled right in front of Marlena. Before nine in the morning.

  He straightened up and reached for his phone.

  “Let’s call her and see if she’s still in town,” he suggested. Marlena smiled and nodded. She rose and said she was going to find the ladies’ room, but Rick knew she was mostly leaving so he could talk with Amy privately.

  ~

  Rick drove Marlena back to her hotel and promised her that he and Amy would meet with her the next day. He didn’t tell her that Amy hadn’t answered her phone.

  He knew where Amy lived—a condo on the city’s southern edge that was obviously more than she could afford on the salary he was paying her. Clearly, Rob was still subsidizing her housing, something that made him cringe.

  A dark circle on the cement next to the ground-level front door looked like it had been formed by a plant that suddenly disappeared. It was still damp. He knew what that meant: The plant had found a new home. Amy was either gone or she was ready to leave.

  Rick punched the door bell, and then punched it again in case he hadn’t depressed it far enough. He waited about five seconds and hit it a third and a fourth time. He felt the panic rise, tightening his throat. He was about to pound his fist on the door when suddenly it swung open and a groggy-eyed Amy squinted out at him.

  “What is your problem?” she asked. She looked unsteady, like she was ready to crumble to the ground in exhaustion.

  “You!” he answered unequivocally.

  He stepped inside and grabbed her shoulders in his hands and pulled her to his chest. Her body fell against his lazily at first, but then he felt her stiffen. She straightened up and pushed him away.

  “I have no idea what you are talking about, but I need you to leave now. I am driving to L.A. today. What time is it?”

  “It’s almost noon. And you need to come with me. We need to negotiate a deal with Marlena.”

  “I’m sorry, did I just wake up in an alternate universe?” Amy shook her head as if still trying to gain consciousness. “All of the sudden you want to do Marlena’s project? Why should I believe a word you say?” She turned and struggled for a moment to gain her balance. “First you accuse me of blackmail, and now you come in here telling me I have to help you. Not going to happen, Rick. You’re on your own now.”

  “I was wrong!” Rick followed Amy as she stumbled back to the couch. “Marlena is here, and she talked about things, and I see that I was wrong. It was Marlena’s idea that you work on this project, not yours. I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

  Amy sat down hard and looked confused. “Marlena is here? Here in Palm Springs? I thought she didn’t like to travel anymore.”

  “You’ve got to come back and work on this with me, Amy. Even if you don’t stay at Buen Dia. Marlena needs you as much as I do.”

  “As much as you do?”

  “Yes. As much as I do.”

  Amy looked suspicious.

  “How much do you need me, Rick?”

  “As much as I need air,” he whispered.

  Amy held his eyes for a moment, and then placed her palms together and stuck her hands down between her knees. For several minutes, she sat and stared at the floor, shushing Rick with a frown whenever he tried to talk. Finally, she shook her head and sighed deeply.

  “Okay Rick,” she said. “I will come back, but only to help you close this deal. I’m doing it because I really like Marlena. She deserves better than you, by the way. I hope you realize that.”

  “I believe that you both do,” he said softly through a broad smile. “You both deserve better than me.”

  ~ Twenty-one: Amy ~

  Rick waited while Amy took a quick shower and dressed. Then she followed him back to the office, his matching Z3 just a half-block ahead of her all the way. She plugged her earbuds into her phone and called Rob along the way. The message she left on his voice mail said simply that she would be delayed by a day. Maybe more. She didn’t explain why, and gathering from the tone of his voice earlier that day, she knew he wouldn’t be terribly upset. What did he mean by “things have started to improve a bit more” for him anyway? Were women hanging off his arm at social events again? Were fans genuflecting as he walked into restaurants as they had in Palm Springs?

  Sandra looked up as she walked in the door and let out a little squeal. “Hey! You’re back! I’m so glad!” She got up from her seat behind the reception desk and skipped around to give Amy a hug.

  “My gosh, girl,” Amy said, laughing. “I only left yesterday. And I’m not here to stay. I just have to help Rick with one project. I’m still moving to L.A.”

  Sandra smiled and winked at her. “Are you sure?” She jerked her head toward Rick’s office. “I haven’t seen a smile that big on his face since the Monday after your dinner at his mom’s house.”

  “Well, don’t jump to conclusions,” Amy said. “Now excuse me, I have to get to work.”

  Amy didn’t stop in her old office, but walked right into Rick’s. “Are we going to work in here?”

  In answer, he pulled two chairs up to the large work table and tossed a couple of manila pads and a calendar on it. He sat down and patted the seat next to him.

  “Come on, we need to get a proposal to Marlena by tomorrow morning. We’ve got work to do!”

  They started by each re-reading Marlena’s letter. Then Rick grabbed a roll of flimsy white paper and tore off a large section.

  “Here’s what we’re working with,” he said, sketching freehand. He drew a rectangle to represent the property’s boundaries and then put a few large circles in it to indicate where the large trees and bushes were. Amy realized as she watched him that he knew the tract well.

  “When did you get so familiar with this plot?” she asked. “I thought you said it wasn’t worth your time.”

  “I discovered it like you did, but about six years ago,” Rick said. “I looked it over really well, and I was going to try to find the owner back then. But a friend of mine dissuaded me. He told me the same thing I told you: don’t even try.”

  “You gave up that easily?”

  “Yeah.” He grimaced. “I am no Amy Prentiss.”

  Amy laughed. “Thank god. Imagine two of me in this office.”

  Rick sat back and put the pencil to his lips. He looked like he was trying to imagine just that: two of her, and a suggestive smile crept across his face. “Hmmmm….”

  “Oh stop it!” Amy swatted at him. “I can see where you’re going with that. You’re the one who said we have work to do. Focus!”

 
“Okay.” Rick was serious again. “This area is zoned R-3, which makes it perfect for us. Small hotels okay; big ones, no.”

  “I don’t think Marlena knew that.”

  “I’m sure she did,” Rick said. “That woman’s no one’s fool.”

  They worked through the day, starting with the basic decisions of the number and size of the rooms, what amenities they’d include, landscaping, screening, parking and building code requirements. Then, they started working on a budget and a cash-flow projection. Quickly, it was obvious that what Rick knew about scoping a construction project and what Amy knew about finance made them a strong team. At one point, Amy mentioned that she was pretty good at interior design, too.

  “I know,” Rick said. “I came to your condo today, remember? I figured that was your labor I witnessed there and not Rob’s. Everyone thinks they can do interiors, but it’s just not true. You have some talent.”

  Sandra ordered sandwiches and they ate at the table, never stopping their work, except when Amy knocked over a big glass of iced tea. Finally, they started experimenting with different layouts and elevations that showed what the hotel would look like. Leaning over Rick’s shoulder as he drew a proposed façade, Amy realized she had put her hand on the small of his back, and he hadn’t flinched at her touch. He kept sketching. It felt natural: their physical familiarity matching their professional partnership.

  Amy stopped following Rick’s sketch and watched his face. After a few more lines, Rick looked up and met her eyes.

  “What are you thinking, Amy?” he asked in a whisper. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “I’m wondering why it took us so long to get to here,” she said. “To get right here, working like this, being partners. Was it the sex? Did that distract us?”

  “Perhaps,” he answered. He smiled slyly. “It definitely distracted me. But that wasn’t it. It was my fault, and I’m sorry.”

  “No,” she said. “I was just thinking that it was my fault. I was in too much of a hurry to get my hands in your business, prove to you that I could do it. To prove I could be COO. I wasn’t willing to wait my turn, learn the business, get responsibility slowly.”