by Judy Duarte
What had she been thinking?
Once she entered her personal office, with its wall-to-wall windows providing a view of downtown Red Rock, she took a seat at her cherrywood desk and began to look over the telephone messages Diana had left for her. She hadn’t had a chance to return a single call when her father popped his head through the doorway and cleared his throat.
“You’re back,” he said. “That was quick.”
“Yes, I’m back.” After making eye contact, she looked down at the stack of messages, as if each one was so important it required an immediate response.
“I’d hoped you’d be able to spend some time in the city, maybe see a show or do some shopping.”
So had she—but since Miguel had refused her offer, there hadn’t been any need to remain in New York. She had work to do here—and a Plan B to come up with. In spite of the sleepless night she’d spent at the Ritz, she hadn’t thought of any feasible options.
“You really ought to get out more,” her father added. “You’ve been burning the candle at both ends ever since you graduated college and came back here to work. Just look at the circles under your eyes—”
“Dad! Drop it, please?”
“Drop what?”
“You and Mom are control freaks when it comes to me, and I’m getting tired of it. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m an adult.”
“We haven’t forgotten.”
“Oh, no? Then let me decide when to vacation and when to sleep. And, for the record, I’ll also decide who to marry—and when.”
“I’m sorry, honey. I know what it must look like, but I really have your best interests at heart. And as much as I’ve loved the company, I’ve managed to keep a balance. My family always comes first. Without my wife and daughter, all my efforts at Castleton Boots wouldn’t have been worth a dime. And your mom and I are afraid that, without our intervention, you might let your best years pass you by.”
Nicole leaned back in her desk chair and crossed her arms. “I’ve poured my heart and soul into this company, Dad.”
“That’s the point. A company shouldn’t be your heart and soul. Your family should. And while your mother and I are proud of your accomplishments, it’s time for you to settle down. You’re still young, and you deserve to have a life outside of the office.”
“I’m happy with my life.”
“Yes, but we’re worried about the fact that you’ve turned down suitor after suitor—and most of them were fine young men who would have made good husbands.”
“Like who?” she asked.
“First off, there’s Dr. Peter Wellington. You dated him three times, then quit taking his calls.”
“Your golfing buddy? He’s twenty years older than I am.”
“He’s also a surgeon.”
“And he’s about as interesting as the list of foods on a bland diet.”
Her father chuffed. “You want younger? How about David Vandergrift? He’s a Stanford grad.”
“And he has absolutely no sense of humor.”
“Gordon Boswell is funny.”
“If you like guys who dress like rodeo clowns. Come on, Dad. Give me a break.” Nicole shook her head. “You’re so worried that I’ll be an old maid, you went through a legal manipulation to force me to choose one of the men you and Mom keep pushing on me. All I want to do is take my rightful place at Castleton Boots, and you want to sell it to a stranger.”
“It’s not as though you wouldn’t be the major stockholder. You’ll never have any financial worries.”
“It’s not the money, Dad. It’s being a part of all of this. And you’re taking that away from me.”
“You’re not getting any younger, honey. And your mother had a very difficult time conceiving. Do I have to remind you that we were well into our forties when we had you?”
No, he didn’t. Growing up, she’d had friends whose grandparents had been younger than her parents. But that hadn’t mattered to her. She loved her mother and father. And they’d adored her. There hadn’t been anything they hadn’t done for her, hadn’t given her. That’s what made rebelling against them so difficult.
Well, that and the fact that she could never win an argument with her dad. He always insisted upon having the last word.
“Your mom and I just don’t want you to sacrifice your personal life for the company,” he added. “And we don’t want you to wake up one day with a bunch of regrets.”
Nicole clicked her tongue. She had plenty of regrets already. But before she could respond, a deep and oh-so-familiar baritone voice sounded from the doorway. “Don’t worry about Nicole’s personal life. It’s about to get a whole lot better.”
Chapter Three
Nicole turned to the doorway, where Miguel stood with a colorful bouquet of flowers in his hands and a heart-stopping grin on his face. His expression was surely as phony as the story she’d hoped to concoct for her parents, but that didn’t matter. He’d obviously had a change of heart, and for that she’d be eternally grateful.
But before she could welcome him in—and was he ever welcome!—he entered the office with a sexy Texas swagger and the assurance of a born-and-bred New Yorker.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said, as he bent and brushed a kiss upon her cheek. “I stopped off to get you some flowers.”
His musky scent sent her already-racing heart topsy-turvy, and as he turned to her father, she hoped her surprise wasn’t plastered all over her face.
“Mr. Castleton,” he said, extending his hand in greeting. “It’s good to see you again, sir.”
Nicole’s dad looked at him blankly, as if he had no idea who he was or when they’d ever met. But then again, why would he remember? Her father had never bothered to give Miguel the time of day before.
Yet who would have guessed that the edgy, wise-cracking teen would have morphed into a confident, clean-shaven executive wearing a designer suit?
“I’m sorry,” her father said, as he reached out to shake Miguel’s hand. “Have we met before?”
“A time or two, but it’s been years. I’m Miguel Mendoza.”
Even the mention of his name hadn’t triggered her father’s memory, because a furrowed brow indicated he was still trying to connect the dots.
“Please,” her father said, “call me Andy.”
“I’m sorry,” Miguel said, as he turned to Nicole. “Didn’t you tell him, honey?”
“Um...no, I didn’t get a chance to do that yet.” Nicole rolled back her desk chair and stood. “Daddy, Miguel and I reconnected a while ago—on Facebook. We’ve been in contact, and while I was in New York, we met up and...” She glanced at her old high school flame, looking for reinforcement and finding it in that dazzling smile.
“And one thing led to another,” Miguel said, as he finished her sentence and, at the same time, took a seat on the edge of her desk.
As the seventy-five-year-old CEO of Castleton Boots tried to wrap his mind around the significance of Miguel’s arrival, his memory must have finally kicked in, because he stiffened. “What’s this all about?”
“In spite of a ten-year separation, we realized that we still love each other.” Miguel reached for Nicole’s hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze. “I have dinner reservations for us at Red tonight, honey. I hope you’re as hungry as I am.”
She offered him a smile, yet was half-tempted to throttle him for not giving her a heads-up. It would have saved her a lot of grief to know that he was going to show up. And it would have been helpful to have a chance to get their stories straight.
Her father, clearly blindsided by the scene that had been created for his benefit, didn’t speak, let alone object.
“Are you ready to go?” Miguel asked Nicole.
At that, her father rallied and found his voice. “It�
��s only four o’clock, Nicole. And you just got here. Surely you aren’t leaving now.”
A breezy smile, the kind Nicole hadn’t worn in years, slipped easily into place. “I’m trying to maintain a balance between work and my personal life, Daddy. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
Again, her father fell silent—which wasn’t his usual response to unexpected complications at work or at home. And Nicole realized her marriage scheme just might work out even better than she’d hoped.
Rather than give her father time to voice a rebuttal, Nicole slipped her arm through Miguel’s, and they swept out of the office, leaving the stunned CEO behind.
When they reached the elevator and were safely out of earshot, she couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter that burst out. “Did you see the look on his face?”
“He’s at a loss, that’s for sure.” Miguel pushed the down button.
Once the doors opened, and they stepped inside, Nicole released her hold on Miguel’s arm. “Actually, I’m at a loss, too. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re here. But what changed your mind?”
He shrugged. “The money, I suppose. I’ve lost a few dreams over the years, and with what you’re offering me, I’ll be able to achieve one of them.”
The nightclub, she realized. And for some reason, the honesty of his answer—and the lack of anything emotional attached to it—didn’t sit well.
So what was with that?
They rode down in silence. And when the elevator opened on the lobby floor, she asked, “Now what?”
“I was serious about dinner reservations. Why don’t I pick you up at five-thirty? I know that’s earlier than either of us are used to eating, but the sooner we get to Red, the sooner we can convince everyone in town that we’re back together again.”
So that was it for now? They’d left the office as a couple who were in love, only to separate in the parking lot and go their own ways until later tonight?
Oh, for Pete’s sake. What else did she expect?
“Five-thirty sounds good to me,” she said.
“All I need is an address.”
“Of course. I live in a condominium complex near Red Rock Country Club—Fairway Estates. I’m in number twenty-two. I’ll leave your name at the gate.”
“All right. I’ll see you then.” Miguel turned and headed for his vehicle, as if they’d merely had a business meeting that was now over.
But then again, isn’t that what had just taken place?
Hadn’t she offered him a hundred thousand dollars to sweeten the deal?
And it had worked, hadn’t it?
So why had a dull ache settled in her chest as she watched him walk away and climb into a silver Ford Expedition?
There was no reason for it, no reason at all. So she shook it off and headed for her own car, a matador red Lexus sedan.
Who cared why he’d come back to Red Rock?
When push came to shove, she’d take Miguel Mendoza any way she could get him.
* * *
Miguel arrived at Nicole’s condo at five-thirty on the dot. Hers was a corner unit, which provided a view of the lake on the seventh fairway. She invited him into her living room, which had been stylishly decorated in soft shades of brown, with splashes of red, yellow and green.
It must have cost a pretty penny, but then again, she and her family could certainly afford it.
Yet he found himself more interested in the way she’d pulled her hair into a chic twist, in the diamond studs that adorned her ears, in the perfect fit of the slinky black dress she wore.
“Can I get you something to drink?” she asked. “Lemonade, iced tea—maybe a glass of wine or a beer?”
“No, I think it’s best if we get out of here and let the community see us as a couple.”
“Good idea. But shouldn’t we get our story straight first?”
“Let’s just keep it simple. Like you said to your dad earlier—and great idea, by the way—we connected on Facebook a few months back, then met in person while you were in New York. The moment we laid eyes on each other, we fell in love all over again.”
“Perfect,” she said.
“Then shall we go?” he asked.
After she locked up her condo, she climbed into his rented SUV, and he drove her to Red, the family-owned restaurant that had once been a Spanish hacienda. Miguel’s aunt and uncle, Jose and Maria Mendoza, owned the place and had gone out of their way to make sure they maintained a historical, as well as a cultural, ambiance.
“I’ve always loved this restaurant,” Nicole said, “although I haven’t been here in years.”
He wondered if she’d avoided it so as not to run into him or his family, just as he’d gone out of his way to avoid hers, but he didn’t ask.
“I hear your aunt and uncle nearly lost this place in a fire,” she added.
She was right. Four years ago, an arsonist had nearly destroyed the interior.
“It took several months for Jose and Maria to clean up the place and refurbish it,” he said. “And a lot of the original furniture and furnishings were destroyed, but they managed to recreate a similar decor and were able to reopen.”
As they entered Red, Nicole scanned the white-plaster walls, taking in the nineteenth century photographs, colorful southwestern blankets and artwork. “If I hadn’t known about the fire, I probably wouldn’t have noticed anything different.”
Most of those who only occasionally patronized the restaurant wouldn’t, either. But the Mendoza family, as well as the Red Rock Fortunes, were well aware of the various changes.
Lola Martinez, an old family friend who now worked part-time at the restaurant as a hostess, greeted Miguel with a hug. “Mijo, it’s so good to see you. Marcos told me you’d be coming in tonight. So we reserved a table for you in the courtyard.”
Marcos, Miguel’s brother, managed the restaurant these days. And when he’d learned that Miguel was going to bring Nicole here, he’d promised to make sure their evening would be special.
If Marcos had been surprised by the news of the rekindled romance, he hadn’t said anything. And Miguel was glad. He couldn’t risk letting anyone know their relationship was fake.
It would be easier to pull off that way.
And this time, when Nicole ended things by filing for a divorce, Miguel wouldn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, as he’d done when they’d split up as teenagers. Instead, he’d shake it off and focus on opening his first of several nightclubs, this one in downtown Red Rock. And when it caught on, like he knew it would, he’d open the next one in San Antonio. Because now that Miguel was back in Texas, he planned to stay and make the best of it.
“Come this way,” Lola said, as she led Miguel and Nicole to the old-style courtyard with its Mexican tiled floor, rustic old fountain and lush green plants and bougainvillea that bloomed in bright shades of fuchsia, purple and gold.
As they took their seats at one of the pine tables shaded by a colorful umbrella, the sound of mariachi music coming from the lounge harmonized with the soft gurgle of the water in the fountain.
Nicole scanned the courtyard, then returned her bright-eyed gaze to Miguel. “I’d forgotten what a lovely atmosphere this restaurant has.”
She was right, he supposed. But since he’d never brought a date here, he hadn’t considered anything but the fact that the food was great and that it would be the perfect place for their first public appearance.
“Red is one of the most popular restaurants in town, so we’ll probably run into someone who knows us or our family and friends. It’s a good way to get the word out that we’re together again.”
Nicole reached across the table and placed her hand over his, setting off an unexpected rush of heat. “Thanks again for coming back to Red Rock, Miguel. And for showing up at the office like you d
id. My dad seemed genuinely surprised to see you—and not the least bit skeptical of our engagement.”
Miguel was glad their performance had been successful so far, but he also liked knowing that their news had unbalanced the man who’d crushed his teenage hopes and dreams.
But he wouldn’t admit that to Nicole—or to anyone for that matter. It was best that she thought the money had been his motivation.
The busboy dropped off a basket of fresh tortilla chips at their table, as well as salsa fresca and two glasses of water with lemon slices, saying that Tom, their waiter, would be coming to take their drink orders.
Miguel planned to order a Corona with lime for himself, but just as the busboy turned away and the waiter approached, he had a second thought, a better one.
“Welcome to Red,” the tall, gangly young man said. “My name is Tom. Shall I start you off with something to drink?”
“We’d like a bottle of your best champagne.” Miguel glanced across the table at Nicole and flashed a grin her way. “We have a lot to celebrate, don’t you think?”
She returned his smile. “Yes, we do.”
Tom had no more gone in search of the champagne when Marcos stopped by their table and greeted them. Of all four Mendoza brothers, Marcos and Miguel were the most alike, especially in appearance. And as the youngest in the family, just two years apart, they’d become friends as well as brothers.
Now twenty-nine, Marcos managed Red and was doing a great job of it. But like Miguel, he had higher aspirations than to spend his life working for someone else. He dreamed of opening his own restaurant one day soon.
The brothers greeted each other, but only briefly since they’d met earlier this afternoon.
“Nicole,” Marcos said, reaching out his hand to shake hers. “It’s good to see you again. It’s been a long time.”
“Too long,” Miguel said. “But we’re about to remedy that.”
Marcos lobbed her an easy grin. “Miguel told me the good news earlier today. Congratulations. I hope you’ll be as happy as Wendy and I are.”
