He shifted and turned his attention to the next task on his to-do list.
* * * *
The interview was planned for noon, so Sabrina decided to sleep in late. She called to check on Jewel and they chatted for almost an hour before she started getting ready.
She took great care with her appearance, donning a taupe pencil skirt and a white silk blouse whose ruffled front hid its buttons. She finished the look with a wide belt and pinned up her spiral curls, allowing a few loose ones to fall around her face.
Yesterday she’d spent the afternoon unpacking and setting up her home office again after Renaldo had left to go back to work. To her surprise, he’d asked Vera to prepare the guest bedroom on the top floor instead of one of the three bedrooms downstairs. She would have preferred to stay on the first floor, as far away from him and the temptation to enter the master suite they’d once shared, but she’d decided to pick her battles and hadn’t voiced her opinion.
Renaldo trusted Vera completely, knowing she’d never say anything about him and Sabrina sleeping in separate bedrooms. He paid and treated her well, and she took care of his home with military precision. From the moment Sabrina had moved in with him over a year ago, she’d recognized that the employer-employee bond was strong.
When they’d first arrived yesterday, she’d been tense. But the familiarity of the modern, state-of-the-art interior helped her relax. Each room was decorated with one-of-a-kind paintings, minimal furniture, and clean lines. Remote controls scattered around the apartment managed the opening and closing of the blinds and curtains, the brightness of the lights, and the soft music from the speakers hidden strategically throughout the home.
On her way out the door, she stopped in the living room, and tension filled her again as the differences smacked her in the face. Their wedding album was nowhere to be found, and he’d gotten rid of all the photographs that she was in, including their gold-framed wedding picture from its prominent position on the wall. The photographer had managed to capture them in a moment of levity, laughing and smiling at each other. It was one of her favorites from their wedding, which was why they’d made it the focal point in the room.
Now, the only photos on display were of him and his family. They showed him through the years, starting from age eight with his parents—both of whom had passed away years ago. His mother was a petite woman next to his much taller father. His younger sisters, Beatrisa and Carolina, were tall, too, the three of them obviously inheriting their height from their father. Other pictures showed his extended family.
All visual evidence of her had been wiped out. It was as if she’d never even been part of his life. Her eyes misted over at the thought, and she sank her teeth into her bottom lip to bite back the tears.
No feeling sorry for yourself. It’s your own fault and now you have to live with the consequences.
She hurried out of the room before she broke down.
At SDG headquarters a half hour later, she was composed. She received a boisterous greeting from the security guard on the bottom floor.
“Bom dia, Senhora Silva.”
“Bom dia.”
On the way up in the elevator, more familiar faces greeted her and people expressed how happy they were to see her. By the time she arrived in the executive suite of offices, she was practically walking on air. Renaldo may have erased her from his personal life and wished he didn’t have to accept her back into his home, but here, at the office, she was missed.
Bárbara’s welcoming smile met her when she stepped off the elevator onto the top floor. She sat behind a large desk in an open reception area between Sabrina and Renaldo’s offices.
“Bom dia. Senhor Silva said you were visiting today.” Bárbara had always switched between English and Portuguese, depending on if she spoke to Renaldo or Sabrina. Sabrina had told her she didn’t have to do that, but Bárbara refused, choosing instead to accommodate her by speaking English. “It’s good to see you.”
“Thank you. Good to see you, too.”
“Have you been enjoying your time off?”
“I miss work,” Sabrina answered truthfully.
“I understand. Senhor Silva misses you, too.” Bárbara lowered her voice. “He has not been the same since you have been gone. We keep praying you will return soon.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. He never smiles, and he is always in a bad mood. Believe me, ma’am, we cannot wait for you to come back.” Then, Bárbara blushed and added, “Claro, he is a wonderful boss. I love working for him.”
Sabrina smiled to ease her discomfort and because it was nice to be missed. “I know. That’s just between you and me.” She winked and continued to Renaldo’s office, knocking before entering.
He looked up from the stack of papers on the large wooden desk that was his pride and joy. It was an old desk and didn’t fit the modern décor, but like the Rolex, it had been his father’s, so it had sentimental value. He sat like a king on a throne, in a black leather executive chair in front of windows with the blinds drawn up, affording an unobstructed view of the city below.
“Good, you’re here on time.” He rose from the chair without commenting on her appearance.
She shoved down her disappointment. In the past, he would have paid her a compliment before rewarding her with a wolfish leer. Depending on how busy their work schedule was, she’d lock the door and hike up her skirt. She’d ride him on the chair, wrinkles be damned. That chair had endured a lot. It was strong, durable, and worth every dime he’d paid for it.
“There’s been a change of plans,” he said. “The reporter wants to have the interview at the construction site instead. They will take the publicity photos there.”
Sabrina looked at her attire. A skirt and heels weren’t exactly the right clothes for a construction site. “If I’d known, I would’ve worn jeans.”
His eyes assessed her clothing, but his face remained inscrutable. Still no wolfish leer, like in the past. “Jeans would not have been appropriate for the interview. What you’re wearing is fine.”
She preceded him out the door when he held it open for her, feeling like an employee instead of his wife. The difference in his behavior toward her was another reminder of how the interaction between them had changed. He hardly looked at her on the way to the car. He didn’t touch her, either. She missed the way he used to place his hand in the small of her back, or hold her arm right below her elbow. Small gestures she’d taken for granted and now missed because they’d illustrated the closeness between them.
When they arrived at Estação Central, the reporter and photographer from Semanal were already there and had set up the chairs and equipment a safe distance from the construction in progress.
Mixed-use developments were sprouting up all over Latin America, and the plans for this one were geared toward business people and their families. In addition to retail stores and high-end apartments, the complex would also offer condominiums, office space, shopping, and recreational activities. All in one area with easy access to public transportation.
It was hard to envision all of that with the condition the area was in, but Sabrina had seen the plans and knew what was to come. She wished she could be around to see the finished product. Right now, all she saw was a work site with orange “Men Working” signs, and a large sign outside the fenced area declaring the location an SDG project. Workers were gutting the old structures to make way for the new, and the real work would begin after the probation period.
They all sat down, and the reporter, Isabela Coron, asked them about the project and others in the pipeline. The photographer snapped shots of Renaldo as he explained his ideas for Estação Central and his plans for expanding the company. Sabrina took over when costs and financing came up, pulling stats and figures from memory even though she hadn’t looked at the numbers in weeks.
After over an hour, Isabela assured them she only had a few more questions. “Our readers like to get to know the people we feature in our magazine
on a more personal level. I’ll start with you, Senhora Silva. Did you speak Portuguese before coming here?”
“No, I only knew the words and phrases Renaldo taught me. I took an intensive course when I arrived, and of course, living in the country has helped a lot.”
Isabela nodded. “Living in a country is truly the best way to learn a language. I learned to speak English when I traveled to the States to study journalism. Since you’re a husband and wife team, your story will be especially appealing. I’m sure you’ve told this story before, but for the sake of the Semanal readers, how did the two of you meet?”
“If you can believe it, in a bar,” Renaldo answered. He placed his arm on the back of Sabrina’s chair and gazed down at her adoringly. Her mouth dried up, and she almost believed what she saw there. But it was all an act for the benefit of the reporter. “I was in Chicago on business. She walked in, and I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.”
She really wished he wouldn’t look at her like that, as if he wanted them to be alone right now. She hated the warm, inviting tone of his voice, making her wish that they were.
“Was the attraction mutual?” Isabela asked, looking at Sabrina.
What a ridiculous question. How could any woman not be attracted to her husband? “Yes, definitely. He swept me off my feet. When he asked me to marry him, I couldn’t believe it. What could I do except say yes?” Her heart constricted at the painful truth. She remembered that moment as if it were yesterday. She’d been so thrilled, so happy. How could she have screwed it up so badly?
“Have you found working together causes friction in your marriage?”
“No, we work well together,” Renaldo answered.
“We complement each other,” Sabrina added.
“Your business is booming, and you’re happily married. You must give me some dirt to write about,” Isabela said with mock exasperation.
“There’s nothing to tell.” Renaldo grasped Sabrina’s shoulder in what looked to be a loving gesture, but which Sabrina knew to be a warning to keep up the pretense.
Isabela thumbed through her notes, but when she looked up at them, it was clear that she’d planned to ask the next question all along. “So then why the rumors that you’ve separated?”
“Separated? Where did you hear such a nasty rumor?” She heard the edge in Renaldo’s voice.
“I don’t reveal my sources.” A triumphant smile played at the corners of Isabela’s lips. “Senhora Silva has not been at work for weeks, isn’t that true? Is there already trouble in your new marriage?”
“When did Semanal become a gossip rag?” Renaldo asked. He kept his tone even, but anyone within earshot could tell he was annoyed.
Isabela appeared unruffled by his question and kept going, a true tenacious reporter. “As I said, our magazine touches on all aspects of business, including the lives of the people we profile. But I’m sure you already knew that. So is there any truth to the rumors?” She looked at Sabrina.
“Of course not,” Renaldo answered. “Your so-called source gave you wrong information.”
“I was asking the senhora.”
This was why Renaldo needed her here, and she would not let him down. Sabrina pasted a smile on her face.
“Of course there isn’t any truth to it.” She placed a hand on Renaldo’s thigh, just above his knee, and felt the muscles tense, the heat there making her palm tingle. “I took a leave of absence, but I’m back now to support my husband.” She looked at him. “I love him, and there’s no place I’d rather be than by his side.” She hoped he could see what was in her eyes and believe what she said was the truth. She didn’t want their marriage to end.
The shadow of some emotion flashed in his eyes before it disappeared. Then he covered her hand with his own. His skin was dark—almost as dark as hers—and his hand large and masculine. It covered her smaller one, and the nerves under her skin twitched at his electric touch, sending a line of goose bumps up her arm.
“You see, Isabela,” he said, speaking only to Sabrina. “You have the wrong information.”
“It seems I do.” Isabela’s voice was tinged with regret that there was no juicy scandal to unearth and print in the magazine.
Minutes later, she wrapped up the interview. They took some photos of the construction site, and more of Renaldo and Sabrina. In one shot he had his arm around her as they stood in front of one of the abandoned buildings, and for that one brief moment, Sabrina let herself believe it was all real.
“What a beautiful couple you make,” Isabela commented as the photographer snapped away.
Sabrina smiled bravely, doing the best she could to hide the sadness in her heart.
Chapter Nine
“Thank you,” Renaldo said.
“For what?”
Renaldo and Sabrina were on the way back to the office. She truly was a good actress. For a moment back there he’d believed her words of love and devotion. But now she sat on the other side of the limo, as she had the other day, putting as much space as possible between them.
“For what you did with Isabela. You appeared very natural. I don’t think she suspected anything and will only print what we tell her.”
Sabrina shrugged. “It’s important to both of us. There’s a lot of money at stake.” The moment she said the words, he could tell she regretted them. “I-I mean—”
“I know what you mean.”
“Do you? Do you know what I mean?”
“Of course. Money is very important to you. You didn’t have much growing up.”
“It’s important to you, too.”
“But it’s a priority for you.”
After the stilted exchange, she didn’t respond and chose instead to clasp her hands on her lap. She looked a little sad and he couldn’t stand it. It ate at him. Turning away from her, he hardened his heart, which he was doing a lot lately.
He couldn’t allow his desire for her to cloud his judgment again. He refused to fall for her vulnerable act. There was a time when he’d wanted to protect her, take care of her, but no longer. What she’d done was too much to overlook.
If only he didn’t want her so much. Didn’t notice the way she brushed the loose curls from her eyes as the wind blew them across her face while they were on site. Didn’t enjoy the way the curve of her back felt as they stood together taking photos.
A prickling sensation remained in the spot where she had touched his leg. It was difficult not to think about it because it became the focus of his attention.
Fortunately, his phone rang and saved him from his thoughts. He answered it in a clipped tone.
From the corner of her eye, Sabrina watched Renaldo as he talked on the phone. There’s a lot of money at stake. She mentally kicked herself. Wrong thing to say.
What she should have said was, “I’ll always have your back.” Instead, she’d mentioned the money, and the change in him had been immediate.
She’d missed the opportunity to show him how much she cared and how she was as vested in the company as he was. From the day they’d said their vows, she’d promised to support him in everything. She couldn’t take back what she did that night, but she hoped eventually he could see past what she’d done.
Listening on her end, Sabrina heard him mention a fire at an apartment complex he’d purchased with the intention of turning it into condominiums. “Problem over at Avenida de Jabaquara again?” she asked when he hung up.
“Isn’t there always?”
“Was anyone hurt?”
“Luckily, no. The last tenants moved out a couple of weeks ago.”
Progress on the conversion to condominiums had been slow because of all the problems over there. The property seemed to be cursed. Even with a despachante, it had taken longer than usual to get the building permits needed to make the renovations. Then one day, lightning had struck a large tree on the property, splitting it in two. One-half fell on a truck parked nearby, and the resultant lawn fire had sent everyone into a panic before the fi
re department arrived to put it out. Next, a car had crashed into the front door and destroyed the leasing office, but luckily no one had been hurt. Now another fire had consumed an entire building before it had been contained.
“What could possibly happen next?”
“I’m waiting for the plague of locusts to descend.”
It was such an odd thing to say, that she lifted her head to look at him. Despite the sarcastic comment, he looked extremely upset, as if he truly thought that could be the next catastrophe to hit.
He had a dry sense of humor, and she hadn’t witnessed it in so long. It was one of the things she loved about him. He’d often made her laugh, telling her she took life too seriously. He was right, but she’d seen so much sadness and desolation growing up, she’d grown used to being cautious. Orphaned as teenagers, she and Jewel had struggled to make ends meet, afraid of going into foster care and being separated.
While he’d been growing up in a loving, nuclear family, she and her cousin had begged for food and depended on the kindness of others for a place to lay their heads at night. It’d been a horrible time, even more horrible than when their mothers had been alive. At least then they’d had two adults, even if the women seemed more concerned about feeding their drug habits than feeding their daughters.
So many of their family members were in jail or dead. That’s why she and Jewel were so close. They’d seen the worst the world had to offer and survived when so many others didn’t.
“A plague of locusts is a bit much, isn’t it?”
“Is it?”
She smiled, and it turned into a short laugh, which she stopped short before it rolled into a full-blown chortle.
Renaldo raised an eyebrow. “You find this funny?”
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