Slightly Imperfect

by Tomlinson, Dar

  "Goddamn you, Abriendo," he ground out above the low, throaty growl of his abuser.

  Zac strode forward, snapped the leash in place.

  "I told you, Ian." He felt calm now, his breath evened out. He smelled resolution. "Do you remember when I told you?" He caught the front of Ian's tank shirt. This one read HARD ROCK BEVERLY HILLS in the debilitating light. It ripped. Ian fell back. Zac grabbed the wounded, bloody arm, jerked. "Get up, and take the rest of what I promised you."

  Ian scrambled to his feet, slipping, gaining balance by clutching Zac's leg. Zac stepped back, kicked at him, felt the hard bone of Ian's knee against the toe of his shoe, heard a crunching sound. Ian went down again. Zac lifted his foot, placed it on Ian's thigh.

  "I'm going to stomp you." He consciously eased the strain on the leash. Delilah bounced forward. Ian cowered. Zac jerked the leash, raised his foot again, and Josh moved in on cue.

  "That's enough." Josh caught Zac's arm. Zac wrestled away. Josh restrained him, just as they'd rehearsed.

  Ian scrambled to his feet, his arms out forward, palms spread in an almost feminine gesture. "Let it go, Abriendo," he rasped. "I give. Let's drop it."

  Zac let the leash out. Delilah caught a leg of Ian's khaki shorts, swung on them, her feet leaving the ground. Ian backed haphazardly. The shed door clanged shut, trapping him with no place to hide. Josh lunged for Delilah's collar, pulled her off.

  "Give me the old key." Zac held out his hand.

  Ian fumbled in his pocket, held the key out.

  Delilah growled.

  Zac addressed Ian's nameless rescuer. "Call the police."

  "No!" Ian almost screamed it. "No. Don't do that. I've got a family. I can't go to jail."

  Zac wished for Maggie.

  He held the light inches from Ian's nose. "What can you do, Ian?"

  "Quit. I'll quit, Zac." He pushed the light aside. Josh raised his light, centered it on wild eyes. "I'm out of here. Don't file charges. I'll bring the stuff back. All of it."

  "No, thanks. We make it a point not to use contaminated products. You keep it. Look at it now and then and ask yourself if it was worth it—but don't sell the stuff, because I'll hear about it, and Delilah and I will come alone next time."

  "I'll burn it."

  "Don't burn it."

  "Okay. Whatever."

  "Take it with you when you move out of Galveston County, because you won't be able to get a job around here hanging fly strips—not to mention cabinets."

  Ian ripped the torn shirt over his head, wrapped it around his mangled arm. "Right. I hear you."

  "Don't come for your check."

  "No way." He limped to the truck, opened the door.

  "And, Ian?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Don't ever see Maggie again. Don't even say goodbye. Don't call her. Don't think about her. I've got a witness here." Ian had never gotten a look at Josh's face, couldn't come back on him. "If you ever contact Maggie, Fitzpatrick Enterprises will file charges and you'll rot in jail."

  "No problem."

  Not anymore.

  Ian got in, started the truck, and pulled away.

  Zac and Josh watched in silence until Josh's breath evened out.

  "Let's put this back." Zac nudged a bundle of insulation with his toe. "Then let's get back to that boat, Josh, and those women. Let's get back in touch with the sanity in our lives."

  "Let's do it, Mr. Z. We're lovers, not fighters."

  * * *

  Zac saved the new Disney movie for their last afternoon on the Irish. He instated the whole crew, including Sylvania, in the main salon to watch. Figuring the fresh movie was good for a couple of consecutive run-throughs at least. He then invited himself into Victoria's hallowed, air-conditioned stateroom.

  After making love, he shared his foremost thought. "We have to get married."

  "Have to?" She sat in bed, legs folded, the sheet draped loosely across her lap, naked from the waist up. Her fingers trailed in a feathery touch up and down the length of his body. "Has anyone ever told you you're beautiful, Zac?"

  His smile served as a disclaimer.

  "You are. From every angle, in every way. Sometimes—when we're apart—I wonder if you're really this beautiful. I convince myself you can't be." She smiled, ran her hand up his inner thigh, stopped strategically. "But you are."

  "We have to get married."

  Smiling, she moved her hand.

  "This isn't high school," he said. "We can't keep grabbing bits and pieces of each other on the sly. We're running out of Disney movies. I just want to be able to announce I'm taking you to bed when I want to make love to you."

  "Announce to whom?"

  "To your children. They'll be our children then. It won't come as a big shock to anyone else."

  "I've been married, Zac. It ruined a perfectly good sexual relationship." She did, however, keep smiling.

  "You haven't married Mexican yet. We like sex. Even after the ceremony."

  "No, I haven't." She stretched out beside him, on her stomach, tucked her arms neatly up against her breasts. Centerfold material. She sought his mouth, kissed him wetly, convincingly, then pulled back to meet his eyes. Hers were green orbs of promise. "But I'd like to marry this Mexican."

  "When?" He propped on his elbow, head in his hand.

  "Now. This moment. I'd love that."

  "That's a yes. I recognize it. No stipulations, either."

  "No stipulations. But we should do it right."

  "Yeah. I want to do it right. Big wedding. Reception in the Valdez ballroom.

  Honeymoon on the Irish, sans crew." He ceased holding his breath when she didn't get that crease between her brows. "How does that sound?"

  "Perfect. Coby will give me away." She smiled. "If he's having a charitable day."

  "Done," he assured her. "We'll have lots of cafe-au-lait babies, and I want to adopt your children. I want all of us to have the same name."

  The crease came, but she smiled through it, caressing his face. "I doubt Christian will let you do that. Is the deal off?"

  "He'll let me, once he sees it's for the best."

  He watched hesitance form before she whispered, "You can't take Marcus's father's name away from him."

  "Marcus never really knew Tomas Cordera. I'll be his father now. Think about it, Victoria. It's right. We'll be a beautiful family."

  She lowered her cheek to her folded arm, her eyes away from him, thinking, he hoped.

  He continued selling. "I can't tell you there won't be disagreements. Probably most of

  them will be over the children. But I can promise you no disagreement will involve apathy. I care and you'll know it."

  "I love your positive nature, Zac. You make me believe."

  She made him believe it was perfect, sane and viable.

  * * *

  Coby waited on the dock when they pulled in. Zac hadn't recognized him under the dim, bug-infested dock lights. Just someone tall and rangy.

  "Coby!" Victoria raced into his arms the moment the gangplank was lowered, Zac's juices not yet cold in her body.

  "Co-bee!" Ariana echoed as Zac followed, bearing her and Alexander.

  "Cool," he heard Marcus say, and hoped it was going to be.

  "Hey, guy." Coby called to Zac, smiling over Victoria's head. "Nice boat."

  "Yeah." Zac accepted the outstretched hand awkwardly, gripping Alex in the crook of his arm to keep from dropping him.

  A sudden, irrational image of Tomas Cordera's boat and all he'd read about his murder ripped through Zac's mind, until he squelched it. He thought of his sisters, Carmen and Concepcion, and wondered how many years it would take him to run into their arms if one of them had killed Victoria.

  Zac made himself offer, "You could have come on the Irish with us. I didn't know you were home." He looked to Victoria for the answer.

  "He wasn't." Her joy proved a little scary. "But he is now."

  Coby's arm tightened around her shoulder, drew her in, si
gnifying a stranglehold that would be hard—maybe impossible—to break.

  She curled into him. "Oh, God, Coby," she crooned. "It's all over, and you're home. This is wonderful."

  He kissed her temple and eased away, reaching for Ariana.

  "Co-bee," she cooed fickly, her little nails scraping Zac's warm neck as she let go.

  Coby took Alexander in his other arm, then knelt to Marcus's level. "Hey, guy," he said again, softly, winningly.

  Marcus moved forward, away from Zac's side.

  "Did you have fun?"

  Zac smiled more generously than he felt. Victoria's edging around them all, closer to Zac, her hand finding his, helped.

  Coby looked up from his squat. "I heard your message, Tori. Zac's too. I got the hotel van to bring me over so we'd have room for your luggage."

  Josh, Sylvania and Lizbett were disembarking, bearing the first load of stuff.

  "Put all of that in my truck," Zac said quietly to Josh as he passed. His grip tightened on Victoria's suddenly icy hand. "Use part of the back seat if you need too. Marcus can sit up front with Victoria and me."

  Coby stood, laughing. Polished. Zac granted him that. His eyes, blue pits of amusement, met Zac's stony resolve.

  Coby shrugged, elevating the twins for a moment. "You brung 'er to the dance. You'll be takin' 'er back. Right, Zac?"

  "You're quick, guy." He slipped his arm around Victoria's waist and felt some of the tension leave her.

  "Come with us, Coby," she said, softly. "We'll put the children to bed, and then the three of us will have champagne. I'm so glad you're home. Zac and I have something to tell you."

  Coby was quick all right, but not quick enough to keep Zac from seeing a crease, so like Victoria's, manifest between his eyes.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  "Victoria? It's Taylor Summers."

  Her heartbeat snagged when she recognized the name of the Aura executive with whom she had negotiated her latest contract.

  "I've been thinking about our last conversation. We've done a lot of preliminary work on the new product—Luminesque. We were planning on you and the twins." He paused. "You were planning on it too, evidently. I have the signed contract in front of me."

  "You're saying you'll hold me to that contract?"

  "I'm saying you need to look at it from Aura's angle. It's business. Big bucks for you and the kids. At what point did you change your mind?"

  "When I realized the emotional damage I could be doing to my son."

  "Sheila Massey picked up on that. Maybe the end would justify the means though, Victoria."

  "I don't think so. I'm living now with ends that justify nothing. They became consequences. I'm trying to learn to think ahead, rather than attempt to piece fragmented lives together after the fact."

  "You should have thought along that vein before you signed the contract."

  "You're threatening me. I thought we were above that."

  He sighed heavily. "Okay. Tell me what you would like."

  She tried to keep her pulse out of her voice. "A campaign that includes my son. His name is Marcus. He's six years old."

  "Sheila said he's stunning. Her words, not mine."

  She sensed hope. "You wouldn't have to change the name. Doesn't Luminesque mean light—more or less—or reflecting light? He has wonderful hair."

  "Sheila said he's—"

  "Mexican. He's beautiful, Taylor."

  "Is this a part of your sordid past?"

  She had never met Taylor Summers, beyond the telephone, but he knew her well enough to chide her. He had been through all the ambiguity of Tommy, during her past Aura association, knowing something was amiss, never knowing what.

  "Yes. But more importantly, he's part of my future."

  "Well."

  She held her breath.

  "Maybe we could feature an all-around politically correct shampoo. Blend, maybe. What do you think of that name?"

  "I need this contract, Taylor. I would be grateful."

  "I'll get back to you. You don't have any more surprises?"

  "No. Not at the moment."

  * * *

  "Good morning, Tori."

  "Hello, Coby." She held her cheek up to his kiss, admitting him to the suite as she waved goodbye to Zac and Marcus before the closing elevator door could shut them off from her.

  "I brought you something." He handed her two folded-back newspapers, eyeing her robe, her uncombed hair. "Where are dos amigos off to so early?" He grinned wryly.

  "Zac jogs by here in the mornings—most mornings. Sometimes he picks up Marcus, to go fishing, or just to spend the day with him."

  "Nice guy." He smiled, his eyes assessing her again.

  She spared him a smile as she unfolded a paper.

  "That's the Ramona News," he said. "It's also in the Houston paper."

  She and Coby had driven up to Port Arthur two nights before to hear Zac speak. The News contained a picture of the two of them with Zac and Gerald along with a short, factual, unbiased article. The Houston paper contained a similar picture, with in-depth coverage. Gerald's views on gambling, Zac's role as a local fisherman who advocated gambling, Victoria and Coby's familial affiliation with Pierce, and his views on gambling. The story raised question as to whether Victoria and Coby's attendance at the rally was a statement opposing their father's. Most disturbing was the final paragraph: a brief synopsis of the scandal five years ago, Pierce's subsequent withdrawal from the senatorial race, and Victoria and Coby's untimely reunion.

  The Sun contained Pierce's most recent blast against gambling, fraught with crime statistics.

  In the sunny kitchen, Coby looked across the top of his coffee cup, searching her reactions. "Are you upset? I can see the coverage surprises you. You're forever naïve. It's sweet, Tori."

  She felt a little sick. "I'm drowning in déjá vu."

  "I'd cool my jets for a while, considering Pierce."

  "I'm not so sure I think gambling is the curse of Texas."

  "He won't give a damn what you think."

  "I'm not sure I owe him anything, Coby." She raised her fingertips to her temples, pressed. "No. I am sure. I don't."

  "Well, maybe. But I probably won't be attending any more enlightening lectures on the fastest way to plunge Galveston County into hades." He smiled placatingly.

  "You agree with Pierce?"

  He stretched, then settled into his chair. "Until I get a job and a place to live, his opinions are mine."

  "Then you won't be at the Fischer's Landing party tonight?"

  "No. And if you've learned anything in the past twenty-nine years, you won't be there, either."

  Zac's face, his dark eyes staring into hers across a pillow, just minutes before Coby had arrived, rested gently on her resolve. "I'll be there. Simply because I have learned a few things in those twenty-nine years—but it's all right, Coby. I'm not asking you to choose. I don't need that anymore. I'm my own person. Now."

  * * *

  "Victoria, this is my father, Alejandro."

  She extended her hand, but it went unaccepted until Zac leaned down to the wheelchair, caught his father's big, calloused hand and wrapped it around hers.

  "This is my mother, Luz."

  Luz held her hand and met her eyes. Some of the discomfiting warmth in Victoria's throat, caused by Alejandro's rebuff, subsided.

  Zac eased his hand to the back of her arm and squeezed. "This is my brother Pete and his wife Estancia. My sister Carmen and her husband Luis." He propelled her along.

  She had seen shorter reception lines at weddings.

  "My sister Concepcion and her husband Rafael." His voice changed noticeably, and she caught his glance when he announced, "This is my brother Luke and his wife Jan." The elation so evident in his tone was real and unguarded, characteristic of Zac. "Jan is a gringa, too." His voice was a stage whisper, and reactions from the group ran the scale from smiles to groans. "And this is my ex-wife Maggie."

  Maggie's hand got los
t in Victoria's. She tried not to imagine Maggie lost within Zac's embrace.

  The formally attired men made a splendid display. Zac, the most resplendent of all, wore a black tux that complimented his silvering temples, a pleated shirt and a red cummerbund accenting his trim waist.

  The Abriendo women had come as a group, Maggie included, a few days before, to the Love Victoria hotel boutique. They had taken anything they desired, signing Zac's name by prearrangement. Now, Victoria tried not to notice that their hair, nails and makeup didn't measure up to their clothing. Maggie and Jan—more worldly working women—were much better turned out. All in all, the family made an impressive addition to Gerald Fitzpatrick's unveiling of Fischer's Landing.

  "It's wonderful to meet you," Victoria said collectively. When they nodded and smiled, reserving verbal judgment, she added, "Especially you, Mr. Abriendo. Zac speaks of you often, and Marcus is so fond of you."

  Zac's smile broke through Alejandro's stony silence. "Good going, Papa. You'll live to regret those words."

  "Would you like to dance, Victoria?" Luke interjected.

  "I'd love to."

  As Luke led her away, she heard Zac's invitation to Maggie.

  * * *

  "She's beautiful, Zac." Maggie peered around Zac's upper body to watch Victoria and Luke. "Perfect is the only thing you'll accept. How do you manage that?"

  "I'm a quick study after all those years with you." He bent, pressed his mouth to the top of her head. "You ruined me for mediocre."

  She cocked her head, looked straight into his eyes. "Until you gave in to your craving for Anglo women."

  Admitting his craving, the underlying issue with Carron, troubled him, especially when he considered Victoria. Classically Anglo, as Maggie had qualified her before.

  "That has nothing to do with your lack of perfection, Magatita." He smiled softly, a tender chastisement, full of hope.

  "It's prejudice," she said emphatically. "The worst kind because it's against your own people—your own daughter. Have you thought of that?"