He looked at her for a long time. “Well, damn. You’re probably right. Her mom just disappeared on her, leaving her with nothing. If it hadn’t been for a neighbor taking her in, she would have been on the street. From there she went into foster care, then she came to live with us. The last couple of years have been completely unstable. She’s got to be scared.”
He drew in a breath. “She’s one of us. We’d never get rid of her, but I’m not sure she sees it that way.” He nodded. “Thanks for telling me. I need to figure something out. So far it’s not been a good day when it comes to my sisters.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” He smiled. “Can I change the subject?”
“Of course.”
“I’d like to see you again. Are you dating anyone else?”
That was incredibly direct, she thought, both flattered and slightly disconcerted. “Um, no. I’m not seeing anyone.”
“Me, either. I’m not good at playing the field, unlike my friend Santiago. He always has a revolving door of women in his life. Variety and all that. I prefer to get to know someone first. It’s a flaw.”
She laughed. “It’s not a flaw and you know it.”
“Sometimes it works against me. How about dinner?”
“I’d like that.”
“Me, too.” He glanced around. “I’m going to leave now because I have an overwhelming urge to kiss you and this is not the place.”
“There’s the coffee bar storeroom,” she teased. “Want to go there?”
“Don’t tempt me.” He rose. “I’ll text you and we’ll figure out when and where.”
“That works.”
His humor faded. “Thank you for telling me about Keira. I appreciate it.”
“I’m glad.”
She watched him walk away, admiring the cut of his suit and the body that filled it. Malcolm was an appealing guy. Honest, caring and totally clueless when it came to Keira. With a little nudge in the right direction, he could turn out to be an excellent big brother. As for her and what she thought of him, well, she was a little tingly and wildly intrigued.
chapter ten
Alberto’s Alfresco owned three warehouses in the SoDo district, close to the stadiums. Alberto had bought two of them back in the early 1970s when prices had been cheap. The company’s growth had forced a third warehouse to be added around 2005 and that had cost more than double the other two combined, but had been worth it. The following year, there had been a major overhaul of production, moving departments into different buildings so that all the frozen foods were shipped from a single warehouse rather than all three. The dry goods were put together, as were the supplies for the gift baskets.
When Santiago joined the company, he’d gone over the production schedule and had suggested several changes—most of which involved modernizing equipment. He and Malcolm had come up with a five-year plan, then had self-funded the project. In this warehouse, the gift basket section was finished and the update of the dry goods division would start in a couple of months.
One day, Santiago thought as he walked into the warehouse. One day they would be bigger than Amazon. He laughed out loud. Okay, maybe not that big, but close.
He signed in with security, showed his badge, then went into the oldest of the three warehouses.
Alberto’s Alfresco sold everything from cheese plates to pasta to decadent handmade chocolates. There was a line of house-branded cookware and celebrity cookbooks, along with spices, rubs and salts. In addition to prepared soups, there were packages of dry soup mixes and seasonal drink mixes, including a proprietary hot chocolate mix that was only available at the holidays.
Huge vats with giant mixers blended the company’s various recipes to create the perfect seasoning for minestrone soup or spicy sangria. The mixed ingredients were placed in bins that were later poured into a funnel where they were measured out and put into small plastic bags, then sealed—all by hand.
With the soup mixes, the flavor packet was only one element of the whole package. Some contained dried beans, pasta or rice, along with dehydrated vegetables. All those individual pieces had to be collected into one upscale package.
This part of production was the oldest and most in need of refurbishing. Soon, Santiago thought as he walked the line and greeted the employees he knew. Automation would replace aging manual processes. Employees would be shifted to other divisions—the company was growing so fast, even with new computer-assisted robotics, no one would be laid off.
He and Malcolm made it a point to visit each of the warehouses every quarter, visiting at least two of the departments. That way they got to each division at least twice a year. Everything that mattered happened on the factory floor, he thought. Alberto had taught them both that.
He grabbed an inventory sheet, then went to spot-check the storage area. Keeping track of what was in the process of being created versus what was finished and waiting to be sold was an ongoing nightmare. Cost accounting had been one of his least favorite classes in college and now he had to deal with it every day. Irony, he thought with a grin. Life had a sense of humor.
As he headed for the storage area, he saw one of the first-level supervisors talking to a couple of employees and slowed his step. No big deal, he told himself, only it felt like a big deal mostly because the supervisor in question was his brother Paulo and the previous weekend when Santiago had brought his niece and nephew back home after their day together, he’d overheard Hanna and Paulo fighting.
Santiago had made a lot of noise as he’d ushered the kids in the house so Hanna and Paulo would know they weren’t alone anymore. The fight had stopped and Paulo had ducked out the back before Santiago could talk to him. From the little he’d heard, the fight was a familiar one—Hanna wanted more for her family and was working toward it. Paulo was happy right where he was and didn’t see the need to try any harder. It was a hurdle they couldn’t seem to get over.
Santiago had to admit, he was Team Hanna for this one. When Paulo had first been hired at Alberto’s Alfresco, he’d been a go-getter. He’d worked hard to get promoted, but once he made supervisor, it was as if he was done trying. Hanna, on the other hand, was about ready to graduate and become an RN. She already had a job at Overlake Hospital. Santiago couldn’t be more proud of her.
Paulo spotted him. For a half second, his brother seemed just as reluctant to have a conversation, then Paulo smiled and sauntered toward him.
“Checking on the little people to make sure we stay in our place?” Paulo asked. He smiled as he spoke, but Santiago felt the sting in the words.
“Making my usual rounds,” he said easily, refusing to engage. “Everything going okay?”
“This place runs like clockwork.”
All three brothers had dark hair and eyes. Paulo was four years younger than Santiago and about three inches shorter. Both he and Luis had their mother’s slighter build, while Santiago took after their more athletic father. Growing up, he’d been the biggest, the strongest and the fastest by far. He’d also been the oldest, giving him an unfair advantage on every level. He wondered if those were all things Paulo couldn’t ever forgive.
Paulo slapped his clipboard against his thigh. “Targets are being met, bro. You’ll get your executive bonus and be able to buy another fancy car.”
Santiago was aware of the bustle of work all around them. This was not the time to get into a family argument, but he couldn’t let his brother’s words slide.
“In here,” he said firmly, pointing to the storeroom.
For a second he thought Paulo would refuse but after muttering something under his breath, he followed Santiago into the relatively private area.
“What is your problem?” Santiago demanded. “These days you are nothing but attitude.”
“I do my job.”
“And?”
“And nothing.
” Paulo’s gaze shifted. “Anything else?”
He was all bristle and bravado, Santiago thought. Just like he’d been as a kid. Paulo had wanted to be the brother good at sports, but he had neither the physical talent nor the mental toughness. He’d tried out for everything and when he hadn’t made varsity in any sport, he’d walked away and proclaimed it all a waste of time. Santiago had the feeling that was happening again.
“What is up with you?” he asked, trying to sound more interested than annoyed.
Paulo stared at him, his chin raised. Santiago half expected him to take a swing, although he had no idea why. Then his brother relaxed.
“Nothing. Nothing,” he repeated. “It’s all good here. Things are tough at home. There are bills to pay and Hanna’s on me all the time.”
“About?”
“Just stuff.” His brother’s gaze slipped to the side.
“Do you need money?”
Paulo glared at him. “No. I don’t want your money. Stop with the money. You’re rich, we all get it. Don’t you think it’s enough that you paid for my house and put my wife through college? Why don’t you just cut off my dick? Then you can be the only man.”
The venom in his brother’s voice stunned him. “What are you talking about? I’m trying to help.”
“I don’t want your help. I never asked for your help.”
“You’re being unreasonable. This is a family thing. We take care of each other.”
“No.” Paulo’s jaw tightened. “You take care of everyone else. You don’t care what we want, it’s all about you.”
“That’s not fair. Hanna wanted to go to college once the kids were in school. She always talked about it. Why is it wrong that I helped out?” He leaned close. “Don’t point the finger at me, Paulo. You had plenty of opportunities. What about your job here? You could be moving up but you won’t do the work. If you think you’re stuck, you only have yourself to blame.”
“Right.” His voice was bitter. “Let me guess. You’ll pay for me to go to college, too. Always the damn hero. That’s all you care about. As for me, I don’t give a crap.”
Paulo walked out of the storeroom. Santiago let him go. When his brother got in a mood like this, there was no arguing with him. As for being the hero, Santiago was willing to admit to that. He took care of his family, he made sure they were all looked after and he knew exactly when that had first started.
His dad had died when Santiago had been eight. At first the family had done okay, but after a couple of years, money had gotten tight. The spring Santiago turned twelve, he’d hurt himself cutting asparagus for a local farmer. The ER visit had cost a few thousand dollars and the family didn’t have insurance. He remembered hearing his mother crying when she thought everyone was asleep. There was no way to raise the money.
A week later, he’d seen a receipt for the bill—it had been marked Paid. A week after that, the same farmer had stopped by to talk to his mother.
There had been something in his mother’s voice—a controlled loathing and resentment that only Santiago had spotted. When the man had left, Santiago had tried to talk to his mother about the farmer. Why had he been there and what did he want?
Something he can’t have again.
Her words hadn’t made sense for a long time, but eventually Santiago had put the pieces together. His mother had slept with the much older man to pay the medical bill. She’d been forced to do that to take care of her son. It was all his fault.
At that moment, shame had brought him to his knees. He’d vowed he would do everything he could to take care of his own. He’d gotten serious about football and despite a minor learning disability, he’d done his best in school. He was his family’s ticket out. It wasn’t so much being a hero as making sure he never hurt his mother that way again.
These days everyone was taken care of. There was a family trust and good medical coverage and plenty of insurance. He’d been blessed and he was generous with those he loved. As for Paulo, he could see it however he wanted. Santiago knew the truth.
* * *
Callie couldn’t believe how long the days had become. She was used to working two jobs and having almost no time to herself. But since arriving in Seattle, she’d done exactly nothing. Saturday and Sunday hadn’t been so bad. She’d hung out with Keira, explored the house and figured out how to use her new electronics, had lunch with her grandfather. Then it had gotten hard. Monday had been a nightmare of nothing to do. Yes, she could text anyone, but it wasn’t as if she had a bunch of friends. She had nothing to look up online, nothing to do, which left her restless, confused and more than a little anxious. By Wednesday morning, she knew she had to figure out a game plan.
She’d explored the neighborhood as much as she could and had figured out the bus schedule. She’d caught a ride to Target with Carmen and had bought a decent jacket and boots, although the cost had nearly made her weep. Even so, she’d indulged in a pair of faux Uggs that had made her heart beat faster just to look at them. Her poor savings account, she thought grimly. It was gasping for air. She knew she would need more clothes, things like sweaters and jeans, but she couldn’t think about that. Not when she had more pressing matters. She needed to get a job.
She went down to breakfast early enough to see Keira before she left for school. Unfortunately that meant dealing with Malcolm, but since their, ah, discussion Monday morning about her needing a car, things had been quiet between them.
She walked into the large dining room and smiled at Keira. Her sister grinned back.
“There are macadamia pancakes,” Keira said happily, still in her bathrobe. “Have you had them before? They’re delicious. Carmen is amazing.”
Callie eyed the plate of pancakes in front of her sister. “They do look good.” She helped herself to coffee and juice and sat down.
Carmen came in from the kitchen. “Pancakes, Callie?”
“Thank you. That would be very nice.”
Carmen smiled and returned to the kitchen. Callie stared after her, still not comfortable ordering food from the family housekeeper. She kept wanting to say she could fix it herself.
But that wasn’t how things were done here, she reminded herself. The rich really were different.
“Where’s Malcolm?” Callie asked, trying to sound casual.
“He already ate. He’s in his study, on a conference call.” Keira rolled her eyes. “It’s international. He’s very busy.”
Callie grinned. “Is he?”
“Uh-huh. He’s expanded the company to a lot of Europe. I don’t know all the countries. Sometimes he travels there.” She thought for a second. “I’d like to go to London, I think. They still have a royal family and that would be fun.”
“Because you’d meet them?”
“No, but I could see a palace. And maybe Paris.” Her expression was wistful. “Angelina talked about Paris a lot.”
Paris. To Callie it was like talking about the moon. Did regular people really get to go places like that? She couldn’t imagine.
Of course a month ago, she would never have imagined that she would be living in this huge house in Seattle. Thinking about it made her head spin. She had family—a concept she couldn’t wrap her mind around. Keira was great and Grandfather Alberto couldn’t be nicer. When they had lunch, he’d told her the history of the family and had mentioned maybe five times how happy he was to have her here. Yesterday he’d talked about the company and how he started it right after the Second World War. But Malcolm was another story.
It wasn’t that he was mean, it was just that... She thought for a second—to be honest, the man scared her. She couldn’t say why, but he did. He was so stern and serious about everything. Keira had confessed she referred to him as her asshole brother. While Callie couldn’t claim he’d behaved that way with her, she got the sentiment.
She didn’t want to think abo
ut Malcolm, so asked Keira about her English project. From there the topic shifted to the reality dancing competition they’d watched the previous night.
“You’re wrong,” Keira told her. “Madison was totally the better dancer.”
“You just think she’s prettier. Anastasia knew the routine.”
Carmen came in with Callie’s breakfast. There were pancakes, bacon and a lovely little fruit garnish. “When you’re done, Malcolm would like to see you in his study,” Carmen said with a smile.
“Uh-oh,” Keira whispered.
Callie wanted to say she wasn’t worried, but she found she suddenly had a knot in her stomach.
“I’ll be fine,” she lied.
“Better you than me.”
Fifteen minutes later, Callie gave up pretending she could eat and went up to talk to Malcolm. At the top of the stairs, she turned away from her room and toward his. She told herself that if she didn’t like what he had to say, she would leave. She could find a room to rent and a job and just get on with her life, only the words sounded a lot like whistling in the dark.
She knocked once on his open door and walked into his study. She realized immediately that his floor plan was the reverse of Keira’s, only he used the front room as his home office and the back one as his bedroom.
He sat at a large desk. He was already dressed in a suit and tie, his jacket hanging by the door. He looked up when she knocked and motioned for her to enter and take a seat.
“Thanks for coming to see me,” he said. “I wanted to talk to you about how you’re settling in. Is your room comfortable?”
Was he kidding? Her room was amazing—of course it was comfortable. What else could it be? Was this a trick? She didn’t know him well enough to guess so only said, “It’s very nice, thank you.”
Emotions chased across his face, but she couldn’t read them. She supposed that a disinterested bystander would say that her brother was handsome and he obviously looked successful, but none of that mattered to her.
“I want to make sure you’re happy,” he began, then stopped. “I’m saying this all wrong.”
When We Found Home Page 12
