Best Kept Secrets

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Best Kept Secrets Page 34

by Rochelle Alers


  He told her about the two months he’d spent in Costa Rica interviewing countless candidates for the managerial position. He’d almost given up when an ex-foreman for the United Fruit Company applied for the position. He hadn’t brought up the subject of Samuel Cole, and for that she was grateful. She’d masked her inner turmoil with a deceptive calmness she hadn’t known she possessed.

  “I live there,” she said softly, pointing at the one-story house with peeling yellow paint. Silvia nagged Ramon constantly to buy some paint to touch up the siding, but he refused because he didn’t own the property. Everett got out and pulled her gently to her feet. She thanked him for dinner, then made her way to the rear of the house.

  Teresa opened the door leading into the kitchen where her family had gathered for the evening meal. “I had to work late,” she announced softly, explaining her absence.

  Silvia pushed back her chair. “I’ll get you a plate.”

  “No, Mami. I ate at the office,” she lied smoothly. “I’m going to take a bath, and then I’m going to study before going to bed.” She kissed her mother, father, and then her youngest brother. “Where’s Pedro?”

  Ramon tore a piece off the loaf of homemade bread and dabbed the residue of gravy on his plate. “He’s doing some work for Mr. Winters.”

  Teresa frowned at her father. “Is he going to pay him in cash, or will he take it off the rent?”

  Ramon returned her frown. “Stay out of it. It’s between your brother and Mr. Winters.”

  “But he’s a thief, Papa.”

  “Bastante!”

  Her temper flared. “How can it be enough when he treats us like we’re dirt, Papa? Whenever he has to repair something he adds it to the rent. This is his house, not ours, so why do we have to pay for repairs?”

  Ramon’s eyes paled. “Go to your room!”

  “I am not a child to be sent to my room!”

  Ramon half rose to his feet, but Silvia’s work-worn hand stopped him. “No, Ramon.” She turned her dark gaze on her daughter. The two women acknowledged what would’ve only ended in a stalemate, resentment and hostility.

  Turning on her heel, Teresa walked out of the kitchen. She had enough on her mind without arguing with her father about their unscrupulous landlord.

  She had to let Samuel Cole know that she was carrying his child.

  Teresa unlocked the door and went completely still. Samuel sat at the desk in the reception area. It was apparent he was waiting for her. He rose slowly to his feet, his gaze fusing with hers.

  It had been more than six weeks since their last physical encounter, and seeing him this close made her body ache. She loved him, even more now that the result of their time together grew inside her. Everything that was so magical about the enchanting island, mountains, waterfalls, the primordial beauty of El Yunque with its ageless trees, the rare flora and fauna indigenous only to Puerto Rico, would remain with her forever.

  “You were waiting for me.” Her question came out like a statement.

  “Yes. I want to talk to you.”

  “And I need to talk to you,” she countered.

  Samuel, pushing his hands into the pockets of his trousers, rocked back on his heels. “We’ll talk in my office.”

  She stored her pocketbook in the desk drawer before following Samuel. He waited for her to walk into his office, then closed the door behind them. He cupped her elbow, steering her to the small table in the corner. Pulling out a chair, he seated her.

  “Thank you,” she whispered as he rounded the table and sat down. “What do you want to talk about?”

  Lacing his fingers together, Samuel stared at Teresa’s bowed head. The summer sun had bleached her hair white gold.

  “I didn’t want you to think that I’ve been avoiding you, but I’ve been involved with a family crisis.”

  Her head came up slowly. She hoped his family crisis was marital discord. It would make what she had to tell him a lot easier if he were fighting with his wife.

  “I don’t know what to think, Samuel, because I’ve had my own personal family crisis.”

  “Is it something I can help you with?”

  Nervously, Teresa moistened her dry lips. “Yes, you can.”

  He leaned closer. “What do you want?”

  “You,” she whispered, even though there was no one in the office except the two of them. “I want you, Samuel Cole.”

  “Teresa, we have to talk.”

  “We are talking,” she chided. “I want to talk about us, Samuel.”

  A muscle flicked angrily at his jaw. “There can’t be an us. At least not right now.”

  “And why not?”

  “Because my wife—”

  “Your wife?” Teresa asked, cutting him off. “What does your wife have to do with us?”

  “She’s pregnant.”

  Teresa stared across the small distance separating her from the man with whom she’d fallen in love, tongue-tied.

  Clamping a hand over her mouth, she cut off a strangled cry. No, her silent voice screamed.

  Samuel was hypnotized by the fear in the green eyes trained on him. He wanted to look away, but couldn’t. “I’m sorry, Teresa.”

  She lowered her hand. “You’re sorry, Samuel? Are you sorry you got your wife pregnant?”

  He shook his head. “Of course not. We planned for this baby.”

  Shock yielded to fury with his cocky explanation. “You planned to have a baby with your wife, but what about your mistress?”

  Samuel could not believe what he was hearing. What mistress? Did Teresa believe she was his mistress? “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m pregnant, Samuel. I’m going to have your baby.”

  His face became a glowering mask of rage. “What is it you want? You want money? How much do you want?”

  Teresa half rose, her right hand arcing toward his face, but Samuel was quicker. He held her wrist in a punishing grip.

  “Let me go!” she warned between clenched teeth.

  “Sit down. Do not, and I repeat, do not attempt to hit me again.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. His fingers were like manacles. “Please, Samuel, you’re hurting me.”

  Samuel released her arm as if he feared contamination. He glared at her, frowning. “You can’t be pregnant. I used a condom with you.”

  “Not the first time.”

  “I pulled out.”

  “You didn’t pull out fast enough.”

  Teresa felt a measure of satisfaction when Samuel’s brows drew together in an agonized expression.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked quietly.

  Samuel stared at Teresa as if she were a stranger. “There can’t be a we. Not the way you think.”

  “What the hell are you now? A mind reader?”

  Struggling to contain his temper, Samuel closed his eyes. He could not, did not want to believe that a single reckless encounter resulted in his fathering a child out of wedlock.

  He opened his eyes. “No, Teresa. I do not read minds. Are you certain you’re pregnant?”

  She met his tortured gaze, her bravado slipping. He was hurting. “Yes. I went to the doctor last week. He wants me to come in for a comprehensive examination as soon as I have the time.”

  Two deep lines of worry appeared between Samuel’s eyes. Teresa’s revelation made him feel old, fatigued—too old to be in the age-old dilemma of being caught in a trap of his own choosing.

  “How much do you want, Teresa?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “How much money do you want me to give you?”

  Her eyes grew wider and wider. “You think this is about money? That I trapped you so that you could pay me off?”

  Leaning back in the chair, Samuel regarded her as if she were a business adversary. And that was what she’d become. “I don’t know what to think.”

  Rage made Teresa reckless when she said, “I told you before that I want you. I want you to leave your wife and marry me.”


  Samuel stared, complete surprise on his face. Then realization dawned. Teresa had manipulated him. Her seduction had begun before she’d convinced him to take her to Puerto Rico. He replayed their encounters in his head like frames of film. His eyebrows lifted when he recalled the time she’d come to his house for the Independence Day celebration and had shown him what he could have if only he was willing to take the bait.

  And like a gauche, bumbling adolescent boy looking for his first piece of ass, he’d fallen into her trap. Teresa Maldonado had just executed the oldest con game in the world. She’d literally caught him with his pants down.

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “What you ask is impossible. I will never leave M.J. Not for you. Not for any woman on the face of this earth.”

  His declaration echoed Liliana’s and Everett’s. Hearing it from them meant nothing, but the words coming directly from Samuel made her world tilt on its axis.

  “What am I going to do?” she whispered.

  Samuel reached across the table and covered her hands with one of his. “I will take care of everything.”

  Her eyes shimmered with tears. “How?” Suddenly his face went grim, and Teresa knew exactly what he meant. “Good Catholic girls do not have abortions.”

  A half smile crossed his face. “I shouldn’t have to remind you that good Catholic girls do not fuck married men.”

  “Me cago en la madre que te pario!”

  Removing his hand, Samuel glared at her. “I could say the same thing about your bastard’s mother. Fortunately my mother raised me to respect women. But if you continue to insult me I’m going to forget my home training. And if you’re so intent on having this baby, then I’ll give you enough money to go to Cuba to have it.”

  Tears overflowed, staining the front of Teresa’s blouse. “I can’t go to Cuba as a Maldonado.”

  Reaching into the pocket of his slacks, Samuel handed her his handkerchief. “Why not?”

  She blotted her eyes. “If anyone discovered I was Ramon Maldonado’s daughter, then I would either be killed or imprisoned. My father had to leave Cuba with the clothes on his back or he would’ve been shot on sight. He has been identified as an enemy of the state.

  “And once my parents find out that I’m pregnant…” Her words trailed off as she broke down, sobbing.

  Samuel came around the table, eased her gently to her feet, cradling her to his chest. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he crooned softly. “If things were different I’d marry you tomorrow.”

  Teresa buried her face against his shoulder, praying for things to be different. “I love you. I will always love you.”

  “Shh-hhh, baby.” He shook his head. She’d just cursed him, saying, “I shit on the mother who gave you birth” in a fit of rage, then within minutes confessed to loving him.

  And Samuel believed she did love him because he was the first man who’d introduced her to passion. What Teresa didn’t know was that there would be other men, other men who would fall in love with her beautiful face, lush body and unabashed raw sexuality. She was a rare gift for a man willing to cherish what she was willing to offer him.

  “I can set you up with your own house,” he said close to her ear.

  She froze. “You want me to be your mistress?”

  “You’re the one who used the word, not me. What I want to do is take care of my responsibility. You and your child will never want for anything whether I’m living or dead.”

  “And what do I do, Samuel? Wait around for you to see me when you’re not too busy with your legitimate family? No. I did not make this baby alone, and I will not have it alone.”

  “I’m not going to divorce my wife and marry you.”

  Teresa pushed against him, freeing herself. Moisture spiked the lashes framing her ice-cold, pale green eyes. “Then it looks as if both of us have a very serious problem.”

  Samuel’s expression was a mask of stone before it softened. “No, Teresa. You’re the one with the problem, and you’ve worked with me long enough to know I don’t take kindly to threats. Piss me off and you’ll find yourself out on your ass without a penny.”

  Teresa knew when to push and when to retreat. This was one of those times. Samuel knew she was carrying his child, and now all she had to do was wait to see what he would do. She’d considered becoming his mistress—but that was before she found out that Marguerite-Josefina was pregnant.

  And what Samuel Cole did not know about Teresa Maldonado was that she was not only patient, but also very stubborn.

  She’d set out to seduce Samuel, and she had.

  She’d also planned for him to get her pregnant, and he had.

  She also planned to get a husband, and she would.

  Everett knocked on the door frame to Samuel’s office five minutes after Teresa walked out. “What’s going on?”

  Samuel, leaning back in his chair, did not move. “What do you mean?”

  “Teresa looks as if she’s been crying.”

  Straightening to an upright position, Samuel pushed off his chair. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Talk to me, Cole.”

  He shook his head. “Not here. Let’s go for a walk.”

  Chapter 29

  Though I knew that the name of wife was honorable in the world and holy in religion; yet the name of your mistress had greater charms because it was more free.

  —Heloise

  Everett strolled the two square blocks that encompassed West Palm Beach’s Negro business district. Hands clasped behind his back, he listened to Samuel Cole unburden his soul. What he’d suspected had manifested.

  He was angry, not with Samuel or Teresa, but with himself. He’d stood by and done nothing as Teresa subtly seduced her unsuspecting boss. But when he did confront her it’d been too late. She’d attempted to use the oldest trick in the world to break up a home and get a man to marry her. He hadn’t minced words when he told her that Samuel would never leave M.J.

  “What is she asking for?”

  “Marriage.”

  Everett caught Samuel’s arm, forcing him to stop. “That’s it?”

  Both men touched the brims of their hats as two well-dressed women walked by.

  Samuel gave his best friend a look of disbelief. “That’s it?” he repeated. “Don’t forget I’m married.”

  Gold eyes searched the lean face of the man who’d afforded him a way of life he never would’ve had even if he hadn’t left the insurance company what now seemed a lifetime ago.

  “But I’m not, Samuel.”

  Eyes wide, heart pumping uncontrollably, Samuel stared at Everett in shock. “No, Everett.”

  “Yes, Samuel. I’ll marry her, give the baby my name, and no one will be the wiser.”

  He swallowed to relieve his constricted throat. “You’d raise my child as your own?”

  “I’d like to believe you’d do the same for me if something happened to me or my wife.”

  “Hell yeah,” Samuel said quickly.

  Everett patted his shoulder. “That does it. I’ll talk to Teresa and present her with my offer.”

  “What if she refuses?” Samuel asked in a low voice.

  “She can’t afford to. She’s pushing marriage because she doesn’t want to bring shame on her family. Let me handle everything.”

  “Why are you willing to do this?”

  Lowering his head, Everett flashed a rare smile. “I’m thirty-three, tired of living alone, and because our marriage will be a business arrangement there won’t be any hurt feelings once we decide to go our separate ways.”

  “Why are you really doing this, Everett?”

  He gave Samuel a long, penetrating look. “Just say it’s my way of looking out for my younger brother.”

  Samuel felt a wave of emotion sweep over him unlike any he’d ever experienced. He extended his right hand. “Thank you.”

  Everett took the proffered hand before pulling Samuel close and thumping his back. “Remember, we’re in this together.”


  Samuel smiled, returning the embrace. “Together.”

  “I’m going to ask one thing from you, Samuel.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Other than me and Teresa, no one will know that the child is yours.”

  “I give you my word that no one will ever know.”

  They returned to the office, Samuel taking the back staircase, while Everett walked up the front. He stepped into the reception area to find Teresa filing financial reports. Her head came up at the same time he removed his hat.

  “I’d like to see you in my office,” he ordered quietly.

  “Now?”

  “Yes.”

  Everett waited for her to walk into his office; he stared at Teresa’s back, smiling. He could see why Samuel was taken with her. The night he’d taken her to dinner it was as if he’d seen her for the first time, wondering why he hadn’t taken note of her startling beauty. It wasn’t until he returned home that he realized he preferred dark-haired, dark-eyed women.

  He took off his suit jacket, hung it on a wall hook and placed his hat on the top of a bookcase. “Please sit down.” She complied, sitting in an armchair. Positioning a matching chair to face her, Everett sat, looping one knee over the other.

  Stroking his mustache in an unconscious gesture, Everett reached out and grasped Teresa’s hands. They were ice-cold. “Don’t,” he warned softly when she attempted to pull away. He met her startled gaze. “I know about your condition.” His heart turned over when tears flooded her eyes. “I should’ve warned you before this happened, but I told myself it was none of my business and that Samuel knew what he was doing. You’re with child and need a husband. And we both know that Samuel will not leave M.J. for you.”

  Ignoring the tears streaming down her face, Teresa glared at Everett. “You’re right. This is none of your business.”

  “That’s where you’re so wrong, Teresa. What happens to Samuel Cole is my business, and I don’t ever want you to forget that. I’m offering to marry you and give your baby my name. I will not touch you until after the baby is born. I want you to tell your family that I’ll be by tomorrow afternoon to talk with them.”

 

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