California Royale

by Deborah Smith

  “Alejandro, you certainly know how to simplify a situation.”

  “The name’s Mr. Araiza, remember.” He gestured toward her desk chair. “Please sit down, Ms. Somerton.”

  She sat, and he sat down in the guest chair facing her. Shea rubbed the tense muscles in her forehead and eyed him wearily. “This isn’t going to work,” she said. “I know we agreed to be all business for this meeting, but it feels silly.”

  His eyes were both somber and sympathetic. “I think it’ll be easier this way. Humor me.”

  Shea nodded. “All right.” She exhaled deeply, tried to ignore the thudding of her heart, and placed a note pad in front of her. Shea picked up a pen and poised it over the pad. “Well, Mr. Araiza, now that you’ve had two weeks to look the estate over, I’d like to know what you think.”

  His eyes locked on hers and didn’t waver. “As a business investment, it’s fine. No hassle, management is extremely capable and dependable, and the operation turns a modest but consistent profit. Plus, owning the estate entitles me to a certain amount of social prestige that I didn’t have before.” He paused. “However, I don’t give a tinker’s damn about social prestige, and I do care about my conscience. It sticks in my craw to own a place that has no purpose but to pamper a portion of the population that’s already too pampered.”

  Shea nodded again, while dread clutched at her stomach. She knew all this; the important news was still to come. “And therefore, your intentions?” she asked quietly.

  “I’m going to divide the estate acreage in half. The half that includes the fat … the health spa, will continue under your management.”

  Shea felt her eyes growing wide with wonder and hope. “Alejandro,” she whispered in amazement.

  He held up one hand and gave her a warning look. “But I’m going to develop a camp for underprivileged kids on the other half. And those kids will use the estate’s facilities on a regular basis.”

  Shea put her pen down and propped her chin on one fist. She felt stunned. “Which facilities?”

  “The pools, the stables. I’ll hire a separate staff for the camp—in the state’s social services lingo it’s called a group home—but I’ll also want some of your staff to take part. We’ll set up a schedule—specific times when the kids will be on the estate grounds each day. The guests won’t be inconvenienced that much.”

  “What kind of underprivileged kids are we talking about?”

  “Like you and I were. Poor. Mostly inner-city kids who’ve never had a chance to see anything but concrete and smog, and country kids who’ve never had a taste of anything fancy.” He smiled grimly. “When I was growing up I had a lot of, uhmmm, experience with organizations that try to help kids like that. Now I’m on the board of directors for several groups. I’ve already discussed my plans with them, and they’re enthusiastic.”

  “You told me that you knew how to hot-wire a truck by the time you were ten years old,” she reminded him, frowning. “Are you hinting that these organizations work with juvenile delinquents?”

  “Mild cases. Rowdy kids but basically harmless.”

  Her throat dry with the turmoil of conflicting emotions, Shea rose and walked to a window. She stood with her back to him, her hands clasped rigidly in front of her. He’s going to resurrect my past, she thought wretchedly. These kids were living her old life, a painful life she’d struggled to forget.

  “Bringing underprivileged teenagers to the estate wouldn’t be too risky,” she told him, trying to sound calm. “But bringing in juvenile delinquents would invite trouble.”

  “They’ll be supervised.”

  “There will be problems, regardless. The first time a guest misplaces a piece of jewelry the kids will be suspected, whether they stole it or not.”

  “We can handle it. I think you’re overreacting.”

  Shea’s anger flared. She hurt as if she were being beaten, even though she knew that this plan was noble. She loved him for caring about people, but she couldn’t begin to love his plan. Shea whipped around and faced him.

  “The estate will lose clients because of this. People pay thousands of dollars a week to stay here. You can’t expect them to put up with a bunch of problem teenagers.” Duke’s expression was slowly darkening, but she rushed on. “Wouldn’t it be more feasible to keep the camp separate from the estate? You could build a separate stable, separate pools …”

  “You love this place. You should understand why I want poor kids to experience it.”

  “They won’t benefit,” she countered. “They’ll resent it. They’ll hurt because they have to leave it to go back to a world that’s harsh and disappointing. I know your intentions are good, but what you’re proposing is cruel.”

  Breathing harshly, Shea pivoted and stared out the window again. She heard a soft rustling sound and knew that he had gotten up from the chair. Turning her head, her jaw clenched and shoulders stiff, she watched as he walked over to her. Anger was stamped on his face. He grasped her forearm.

  “I think what you really mean is that you don’t want a bunch of rough-cut kids to darken the pristine scenery around here,” he said in a low voice. “Hell, Shea, is that it? Have I misjudged you so much? I really thought this plan of mine wouldn’t upset you.”

  “I’m not a snob,” she told him fiercely. “You know that I grew up without much love or help.…”

  “And you’re damned defensive about it. Over the past two days I’ve told you a lot about myself and the way I grew up. But you refuse to return the favor.”

  “My life was ugly. I hated it. I made a decision years ago to put it behind me, and I won’t dredge it up now.”

  “Not even to share with me?”

  She inhaled raggedly. Tears of frustration and sorrow stung her eyes. “Not even for you, Alejandro.”

  “Funny kind of love.”

  “It’s the best I can do! It’s more love than I’ve ever given anyone else in my whole life!”

  “It’s not enough.”

  She jerked her arm away from him and turned away shivering. “I don’t want those kids on the grounds of the estate,” she said finally, her voice choked. “I think they’ll be unhappy and I think the guests will resent their intrusion. I think there’ll be trouble. I like the idea of helping needy kids, but if there was just some other way—”

  “No,” he interjected curtly. “Why don’t you have the guts to tell me how you really feel? Admit it—you’re queen bee of an aristocratic little society here, and there’s no room for commoners.”

  Shea hid her anguish behind a glacial stare. “Mr. Araiza, I’ll manage the estate however you wish.”

  “But not happily. I wanted you to feel like a partner, to have the same enthusiasm I have.”

  “I’m afraid that’s not possible. If you want someone else for the job …”

  “No,” he said viciously. “You may be cold, but you’re reliable.”

  She ducked her head, biting her lip to distract the pain and fury that his words caused. “I am cold, I fear. Cold and heartless and whatever else you’re so eager to believe.”

  “This is tearing me up,” he added. “You don’t give an inch.”

  She turned toward him, her eyes flashing. “Do you want a good manager? You’ve got one. That’s enough. You want to force this plan on me regardless of how I feel about it. Don’t expect me to be happy.”

  “The woman I made love to over the past two days is a compassionate person who’d welcome the opportunity to make the world a better place!”

  “You don’t care about making the world a better place, you just can’t bear to let elegance and serenity exist! My world is elegant and serene, and I won’t let you ruin it because of the petty malice you developed growing up!”

  He grabbed her by the shoulders. “Dammit, don’t throw away what we’ve got because you can’t be flexible!”

  “You came here and disrupted everything I’ve worked years to maintain, and now you expect me to adjust without batting a
n eyelash?”

  “I expect you to be the kind of lady I thought you were! I expected you to take these kids to your heart!”

  Shea shut her eyes and fought for composure, but the truth bubbled up despite her efforts to ignore it. I don’t want those kids to get close to me. I can’t bear their problems, and I don’t want to remember mine. She looked at Duke, measuring the anger and disappointment in his eyes. He’d never understand.

  “I’ll do whatever you want professionally,” she told him in a clipped, formal voice. “But I won’t take a personal interest in this project.”

  A muscle worked in his cheek. “Fine.” His voice was lethal and cold. “A construction crew will show up early next week. They’ll be working on a site I’ve already picked out on the other side of the estate. My plan calls for several buildings.”

  “How long will each group of teenagers stay?”

  “Two weeks. With any luck, I’ll be able to bring in the first group within a couple of months.”

  “Fine.” They were both distraught; the undercurrent of emotion made shivers run up Shea’s spine. “If you’d like,” she managed in a tight voice, “you can write the rest of the details and just leave them with Jennie.”

  “Which translates to ‘Get the hell away from me,’ ” he whispered angrily.

  That was too much. Tears slipped down her cheeks. “I love you,” she murmured, “but you’re hurting me.”

  He looked down at her with an expression that said he was drowning in regret and anguish. “I don’t know what to think,” he said. “It never occurred to me that you’d react this damned bad.”

  “Everything has happened too fast between us. We both need time to figure this out. It’s good that you’re leaving for your ranch today.”

  “You think I’m going to leave with this business unsettled between us?”

  She stared at him. “How do you want it settled, Alejandro? You want us to pretend that we’re not disappointed with each other? I don’t think we can.”

  Breathing roughly, he stepped very close to her and bent his head so that she could hear the low, wounded words he spoke in Spanish. Shea shut her eyes and swayed unsteadily. “I can still feel you and taste you from this morning,” he told her. “I can still hear you calling my name. I can remember every word you’ve spoken to me in the past two days.”

  Shea nodded. She could recall the same things about him. Vividly. “We were very special together,” she said in a barely audible voice.

  “Were,” he echoed bitterly. “But you don’t care.”

  Without another word, he turned and went to the door. Shea pressed a hand over her mouth to keep from calling out to him as he left the room.

  Seven

  “Calm down, Red. It’s only a dust catcher.”

  “Pal, that piece of porcelain cost more than my car. If you’d take your hard hat off of it, I’d breathe much easier.”

  Jennie’s words, followed by a squeal of fear and the sound of sudden movement, made Shea hurry out of her office. She found a lanky, blue-jeaned man lounging by a table in the reception area, an orange hard hat grasped lazily in his hands. Jennie stood beside him, clutching the base of a large porcelain vase that wobbled back and forth on the table top. It settled to a stop, and Jennie glared up at the man.

  He grimaced. “Sorry,” he told Jennie. Then he winked at her and directed his attention to Shea. “Greer O’Malley. Construction contractor,” he said politely. “Here to work on the group home. Duke Araiza said that my crew and I could get lunch at the estate every day.”

  “For safety’s sake, we’ll serve you on paper plates,” Jennie informed him. He was a big, good-looking redhead, and Shea watched with grim amusement as he gave Jennie and her red hair a calm appraisal.

  “Bad temper suits you,” he quipped. “Makes you look sexy as hell.”

  Jennie blushed from the collar of her white suit to the top of her head. “You and your men will eat in the kitchen and stay away from the guests,” she retorted. “Any more cute remarks and you’ll eat in the stables.”

  “I don’t care where we eat, Red, as long as we eat soon. I’m on a tight schedule.”

  Shea walked over, extended one hand, and introduced herself. She noted that O’Malley’s eyes narrowed with intense curiosity when he heard her name. “Mr. Araiza left instructions about you and your men,” she told him. “The kitchen has a dining area set up.”

  “No health food,” O’Malley cautioned.

  Shea nodded wearily. “As Mr. Araiza instructed, you’ll get basic meat-and-potato menus every day.”

  “Neanderthal food,” Jennie interjected airily.

  O’Malley growled at her. She retreated behind her desk and sat down with stately disdain. Shea touched the contractor’s arm and he returned his attention to her.

  “Tell me a little about the work,” she asked. “What style are the buildings going to be?”

  “They’ll look like big log cabins. Duke’s in a hurry to get the project finished, so I’m adapting some prefabricated kits to suit his requirements. He wants a two-story main house, a smaller second house, a recreation building, a couple of utility buildings, and a separate cabin for the head counselor. We’ve just finished grading the primary road, and we’ll be hauling materials in by late this afternoon.”

  “Primary road?” Shea asked in bewilderment.

  “A long driveway. It goes to the paved road behind the property. We’ll be cutting a second road from the camp to the edge of this property.” He gestured around him, Indicating the estate.

  “A pathway for invading construction workers,” Jennie said sardonically. “And later for juvenile delinquents.”

  O’Malley put one hand on the expensive porcelain vase. “I used to be a delinquent myself. Be nice to me, Red, or I’ll have an accident with this doodad.”

  “You’re still a delinquent,” Jennie told him.

  Shea quickly stepped between them. “We all have work to do,” she told them firmly. “Mr. O’Malley, come with me. I’ll show you where the kitchen is located, and you can tell me how Alejan … Duke is doing. I understand that you’re an old friend of his.”

  “Yeah. See ya, Red.”

  Jennie eyed him warily. “Not if I see you first.”

  O’Malley chuckled over that rejoinder as he and Shea walked down a hallway through the main building, but when he stopped laughing Shea became aware of him gazing at her thoughtfully. “So you’re a new friend of Duke’s,” he said finally. “Only I doubt friend describes the relationship very well.” When she looked up at him in surprise, he nodded. “Duke and I are like brothers. He said enough that I could surmise the rest. It’s a helluva thing.”

  “Because he got involved with a coldhearted aristocrat?” she asked wearily. “I suppose that’s the way he described me.”

  O’Malley shook his head. “He hasn’t told me much of anything about you. That’s how I know that you’re very special—Duke has never been closemouthed about his ladies before. When he gave me so few details on the manager of Estate Mendocino—you—I put two and two together. First time I’ve seen Duke lose his poker face when he talked about a woman. And he’s been sleeping outside at night ever since he got back to the ranch.”

  Shea gasped and stared at O’Malley in bewilderment. “That was a week ago! What do you mean, sleeping outside?”

  O’Malley did a droll Tonto impersonation. “Man put sleeping bag on ground. Get in bag. Sleep. Wake up with dew on face. Ugh.”

  Exasperated, she ignored his joke. “Why?”

  “He sleeps outside when he’s got a lot on his mind—been that way ever since we were kids. But I’ve never heard of him sleeping outside every night for a week before.”

  “I’ve been worried about him. We said some painful things to each other, and he was upset when he left the estate.”

  “He’s no worse off than you are, I’d bet. Excuse me for sounding rude, but you look exhausted.”

  Shea nodded. “I s
hould try sleeping outside,” she told him wryly. “It might help.”

  “Call him. Communicate. I don’t know what your disagreement is about, but talking can’t hurt.”

  “We’ve talked on the telephone,” Shea confirmed in a pensive tone. “But we stick to business.”

  “Stubborn people.”

  “I’m afraid so. And very different, in ways that are important.”

  “He’s a good man, Shea. But he’s tough, and when he wants something, he pushes like hell until he gets it. I watched him take a two-bit ranch and turn it into one of the best Thoroughbred racing stables in the country. He forced the racing community to accept him, and believe me, there were a lot of blue-blooded jackasses who turned their noses up at the grandson of a poor Mexican immigrant.”

  They stopped by a huge picture window that overlooked one of the back patios. O’Malley whistled softly as he surveyed the guests sitting at the tables there. “The woman in the red. Is her jogging suit trimmed in mink?”

  Shea sighed. “Afraid so.”

  “Duke said this place was pretentious. I guess he must have fit in about as well as a wolf in a sheep herd.”

  Shea smiled sadly. “Yes.” She paused, gauging her next words, then threw caution to the wind and admitted, “And this sheep fell in love with him.”

  O’Malley scrutinized her for a moment, then nodded. “Good, because it’s just a matter of time before the wolf comes after you.”

  But he didn’t come after her, not the next week or the week after that. Shea forced herself to think about her work and her running, but in the back of her mind she never forgot about Duke. Their phone conversations about his project were maddeningly brusque and formal, and she usually had a headache by the time they ended.

  O’Malley kept her updated on the group home’s progress, and finally curiosity got the best of her. Late one afternoon she altered her running route and followed the new gravel road that led through the forest at the back of the estate. Ten minutes later she emerged at the small valley that Duke had chosen.

  Shea walked slowly around the site, studying the half-finished buildings. She gazed appreciatively at the wooded hills that rose around her and the tiny stream that gurgled down the side of one. Sunset tinted everything with an ethereal pink hue. Alejandro had chosen a beautiful place. Her eyes suddenly stinging with tears, she ducked her head and stared at the ground.