His Christmas Gift ; Decadent Holiday Pleasures

by Janice Sims

  Chapter 17

  “Only two more minutes left in regulation,” said the sports commentator from his seat along the sidelines at the Buenos Aires Polo Association. “Do Giovanni Castillo and his team, the Four Kings, have what it takes to win a fifth straight title, or is their spectacular winning streak about to come to an end?”

  Over my dead body! Giovanni decided, shooting across the field on his horse. The charity polo match for SOS Children’s Village didn’t have a monetary prize, but it was a sold-out event, attended by the Who’s Who of Argentinian royalty, and he was determined to win the silver trophy for his team. The club had been closed to the public for the exclusive event, and the thrilling atmosphere, glasses of sparkling champagne and A-list guests added to the glamorous ambience.

  Sweat dripped into his eyes. Roasting in his helmet, jersey, riding pants and boots, Giovanni wiped at his forehead with his sleeve. He steered the horse around the other competitors, struck the small, hard ball with his wooden mallet and then chased it down. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Beatriz, Josefa and Soledad near the goalposts, waving wildly, and couldn’t help but smile at his kid sisters. He didn’t see his parents or Rosario on the grounds, but he guessed they were eating, drinking and socializing inside one of the white VIP tents.

  He focused his gaze on the ball, zeroing in on it. He’d scored five of his team’s seven goals, but it wasn’t enough. The game was tied, and if he wanted the Four Kings to be crowned the champs, he had to dig deep, push himself harder than he ever had before. It was the sixth and final period and time was running out. As team captain, he was expected to do it all—score, defend, strategize and dominate—and he had, but Giovanni had to find a way to do more.

  A bell sounded, cuing the players that there were only thirty seconds left in the game. Giovanni shifted into high gear. Leaning forward, he tugged on the horse’s reins and vigorously pumped his legs. Desperate to win the match, he blocked a defender’s shot and stole the ball. He struck it with all his strength. It soared in the sky, through the goalpost, and dropped onto the grass. Giovanni pumped his fist in the air and the crowd went wild.

  Galloping the length of the field, he celebrated the win with his teammates. He reveled in the victory, taking a moment to soak it all in. After the charity tournament ended, he’d treat them to dinner in the VIP lounge and share his retirement news. Every year, he gave Joaquin, Pedro and Emanuel a hefty Christmas bonus, and Giovanni hoped the check would soothe any hard feelings. Still, he worried about how his teammates would receive the news. Would they understand? Would they be supportive? Or would they curse him out? Giovanni cringed at the thought. He couldn’t handle anyone else being mad at him, and wanted his final polo tournament to end on a positive note.

  The sky was radiant and a warm breeze blew across the field as Giovanni climbed down from his horse. He took off his helmet and tucked it under his forearm, petted the pony’s coat and kissed the top of its head. Then, taking the towel out of his back pocket, he cleaned his face and neck.

  Guests sipped champagne and nibbled on Beluga caviar and mini sandwiches, and the aroma wafting in the air made his mouth water. He wanted to find his family and celebrate his win Castillo style, but event organizers escorted the Four Kings to the middle of the field for the ceremony. The trophy was presented by a famous girls’ group known for their catchy songs and skintight costumes, and when the quartet gathered around Giovanni and showered his face with kisses, he froze. The only woman he wanted in his arms was Elise; he had no desire to flirt with the young, brazen pop stars from Mar del Plata. Scared his emotions would get the best of him, he took a deep breath and shook his head to clear his mind.

  Giovanni swallowed a yawn. He posed for so many pictures his jaw ached and his legs fell asleep, but he didn’t complain. He didn’t want his teammates, his fans or the event organizers to think he was a spoiled, ungrateful athlete, so he suffered in silence. Millions of dollars had been raised for a worthy, life-changing organization for which he was proud to be the celebrity ambassador.

  “Oh, my goodness, Gio, you were amazing!”

  Recognizing Beatriz’s voice, he excused himself from the group then hugged his sisters. He led them across the field and into one of the VIP tents. His gaze searched the crowd. He’d expected to see Esteban at his final polo match, but his cousin hadn’t yet put in an appearance. He’d called and texted him for days, but he hadn’t heard back.

  Giovanni hated to think Esteban was ignoring him, especially after he’d vehemently defended his name to Elise, but his gut feeling was that his cousin was avoiding him and Giovanni was disappointed in his behavior.

  Guests approached him, requesting selfies, autographs and hugs, and Giovanni granted every request. He’d had a career most athletes only dreamed of, and he appreciated his fans.

  “You were a beast out there,” Josefa declared, taking the seat beside him. “Yay, Gio!”

  Soledad fanned her face with a napkin. “Did you hear me cheering out there? I screamed so loud, I gave myself a headache!”

  Giovanni chuckled. “Not bad for an old, washed-up athlete, huh?”

  “Oh, stop,” Rosario drawled, joining her siblings at the round table. “Just because you can’t play polo professionally anymore doesn’t mean you’re washed up. You’re embarking on an exciting new chapter of your life, and it’s a thrilling, wonderful time.”

  He smoothed a hand over the top of his ponytail. “You sound like Elise.”

  “You’re fortunate to have such a smart, insightful girlfriend,” Rosario said.

  Giovani nearly choked on his tongue. His sisters all spoke at once, wanting to know who his new mystery lady was, and Rosario had the nerve to wink at him.

  “Gio has a BAE? No way! What does she look like? Is she Spanish?” Beatriz asked.

  Josefa glanced up from her phone. “Let’s check out her online profile. What’s her name?”

  “Elise Jennings,” Rosario said, leaning forward in her seat. “She’s the new executive chef I was telling you guys about. They’ve been secretly dating for weeks, and Gio’s totally into her.”

  Waiters descended on the table, covering it with champagne flutes, appetizers and desserts. Rosario grabbed two glasses and pushed one into Giovanni’s hand.

  He finished the champagne in three quick gulps. He didn’t want to discuss his personal life with his family at the charity tournament, but his sisters badgered him about Elise and, as he answered their questions, an incredible thing happened. His mood lightened and a grin overwhelmed his mouth. But he wanted to know who’d told Rosario he was dating Elise. When he asked her for details, she laughed in his face.

  “Oh, you’re serious.” Sobering, she reached out and patted his cheek. “You’re so cute. Everyone knows you’re a couple.”

  “You’re not mad at me for dating an employee?” Giovanni asked in a quiet voice.

  “Not at all. How could I be mad at you for following your heart? Elise is a dynamic woman with a beautiful spirit, and I knew you were interested in her from day one.”

  Giovanni hid a grin. So much for keeping my feelings under wraps!

  “In fact, there’s an office pool going on about how long it will take you to propose.” Smirking, Rosario flipped her curls over her shoulders. “Most of the staff think you’ll pop the question by the summer, but I disagree. It won’t take you that long. Three months tops.”

  For the second time in minutes, Giovanni was speechless. Needing a moment to collect his thoughts, he blocked out the noises in the VIP tent and considered what Rosario had said. Giovanni was relieved that he didn’t have to hide his feelings for Elise anymore, but he was embarrassed that the staff at the polo club knew he was crazy about her.

  And he was. Elise stood out from the other women he’d dated in the past for three reasons: She wasn’t impressed with his wealth or celebrity status. She genuinely cared abou
t him. And she often did kind, thoughtful things to brighten his day. Best of all, since meeting Elise, his life had drastically improved. He ate healthier, slept soundly, laughed more and smiled constantly. He missed her terribly and, even though Giovanni enjoyed spending quality time with his sisters, he couldn’t stop thinking about Elise.

  He’d had a great game and the only thing that would have made the day better was having his girlfriend by his side. Torn between following his heart and being loyal to his cousin, Giovanni deliberated over what to do. He considered asking his parents for advice, but he feared Constanza would give him a tongue-lashing for dating an employee and he didn’t want to get on her bad side during the Christmas holidays.

  “Oh, wow, Elise is stunning,” Beatriz gushed, an awestruck expression on her face. Raising her phone in the air, she showed everyone the pictures she’d found online of the talented chef at the polo club’s holiday party. “I love her unique look.”

  Pride flowed through his veins as he listened to his sister praise the woman he loved.

  “What are we going to do about the incident at the club on Friday night?” Rosario asked.

  Josefa finished her crab cake and dusted the crumbs from her hands. “What incident?”

  Rosario told their sisters about Elise and Esteban’s heated encounter at the club, the accusations Elise had made and their conversation in her office yesterday. Listening to Rosario reminded Giovanni of the anguished expression on Elise’s face when he’d found her in the corridor on Friday night. The confusion, the suffocating tension in the air and Esteban’s fervent denials had fuddled his brain, and he’d lashed out at Elise in anger. In the heat of the moment, he’d yelled at her, and seventy-two hours later guilt still tormented his conscience.

  Conflicted emotions battled within him. Why would Elise lie? What did she have to gain by accusing Esteban of sexual assault? But why wouldn’t she even consider Giovanni’s argument that she may have blamed the wrong man? His cousin couldn’t have done the things Elise was accusing him of. Not Esteban. He was a stand-up guy who was generous with his time and money, and when his mother, Annabelle, had been diagnosed with ovarian cancer, he’d practically nursed her back to health.

  “I love Esteban, and he’s always been my favorite cousin, but he can be a jerk when he’s had too many drinks, and he’s been partying hard lately,” Soledad said.

  Josefa nodded. “You could say that again. Every time I see him, he’s drunk, and it’s embarrassing. He needs to go to rehab before it’s too late.”

  “Esteban lied to you. He was definitely in the Hamptons in July.” Beatriz tapped an index finger on her phone. “His social media pages are filled with selfies of him around the city.”

  Giovanni ripped the device out of Beatriz’s hand, flipped it over and stared at the screen. His sister was right. According to Esteban’s online posts, he’d attended not one but three Fourth of July parties in the Hamptons.

  Giovanni gripped the phone so hard his knuckles cracked. Esteban had lied? Why? What was he trying to hide? Giovanni didn’t know what to think, how to feel, and the pain spreading through his chest burned like fire.

  “There’s the greatest polo player alive!” Esteban shouted, clapping Giovanni on the back and vigorously rubbing his shoulders. “Grab the Cristal! A toast to the GOAT!”

  “You’re here,” Giovanni said, noticing his cousin’s bloodshot eyes. “I didn’t think you’d make it.”

  “And miss your charity Christmas match? No way. You couldn’t pay me to stay away.”

  Esteban reached for Rosario’s champagne flute and she slapped his hand away.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she warned, grabbing him by the collar of his white-linen shirt. “Better yet, quit drinking altogether or you could lose your freedom.”

  “Relax, cuz, it’s not that serious. I’ll get my own bubbly—”

  “You lied to me about being in the Cyclades islands in July. You were in the Hamptons.” Rosario shoved Beatriz’s phone in Esteban’s face and forced him to look at the screen. “Look! I have the evidence right here.”

  “Sis, calm down. I don’t want you to lose your temper and cause a scene.”

  “Soledad, stay out of this,” she snapped, her anger evident in her ice-cold tone.

  “Fine, but don’t blame me when someone records you losing it and the video goes viral.”

  Glancing around the VIP tent, Rosario smiled at the guests seated nearby as she released Esteban’s shirt. “If witnesses can confirm you were at that Fourth of July party, and corroborate Elise’s version of events, you could be charged with sexual assault,” Rosario said, nodding fervently. “Is that what you want? For all your friends and associates to think you assault and abuse women?”

  “I swear I didn’t do it. I don’t even remember the party, or meeting that sexy chef chick.”

  “Therein lies the problem, Esteban.” Giovanni released a deep sigh. “You drink so much and party so hard that you don’t even know what you’ve done.”

  Rosario spoke in a whisper. “Esteban, you need to get your drinking under control, and we’re going to help you get treatment.”

  “Rehab is for suckers, and I don’t need it. I’ll quit drinking when I’m good and ready.”

  His sisters stared at Giovanni and Rosario elbowed him in his side underneath the table. He had to do something. But what?

  Giovanni prided himself on being an honest, trustworthy person, but he had to lie to save Esteban from himself, and spoke in a grave tone. “The way I see it, you have two choices. Either go to rehab and clean yourself up, or turn yourself in to the NYPD, because once Elise files a police report, you’ll lose your freedom.”

  “Imagine how your parents would feel,” Rosario added. “It would break their hearts, and tarnish their reputations in the community.”

  Esteban shot to his feet, knocking his wooden chair over, and stormed out of the tent.

  “That went well,” Soledad said, wearing a grim expression.

  “He’ll come around. Give him time. He’ll think it through and make the right choice.”

  Giovanni wasn’t convinced, but hoped Josefa’s prediction came true for Esteban’s sake. He wanted to go after him and find out what he was thinking, but he decided to give him space. They were both frustrated and angry, and Giovanni needed a moment to catch his breath, too.

  “I believe Elise,” Rosario said. “And we can’t afford to lose her. Her love and passion for fine cuisine are unparalleled, and since we hired her, the restaurant profits have doubled. I can’t go anywhere in town without someone telling me how much they love the new and improved menu. And our beautiful, sensational chef.”

  “I’m not surprised.” Images of Elise flashed in Giovanni’s mind, warming his heart. “Her recipes don’t just look good, they are good, and she’s my favorite chef.”

  Someone coughed loudly, seizing Giovanni’s attention, and he glanced over his shoulder. He groaned inwardly. His parents were standing behind him, wearing identical frowns. Dressed in designer attire, their arms intertwined, they carried themselves as if they were royalty.

  “I’m sorry, I missed that. Who did you say is your favorite cook?” Constanza asked, cupping a hand behind her right ear. “Choose your answer carefully, or you’ll never taste my corn empanadas with chimichurri sauce again!”

  Everyone at the table laughed. Giovanni stood, hugged his parents and kissed them both on the cheek. His dad had lost weight since his October knee surgery, and his goatee was dotted with gray hair, but he still looked younger than his seventy years.

  “Son, you were amazing tonight,” Vincente said with a proud smile. “Just incredible.”

  Constanza agreed. “I was on the edge of my seat the entire match, and when you scored the winning goal, I screamed for joy.”

  Sitting at the table, his parents tasted the appetizers a
nd sipped champagne.

  Peering at the entrance of the tent, Giovanni noticed Esteban pacing the field and decided to touch base with his cousin before he left the grounds. The party was winding down, but Giovanni wanted to talk and laugh with his family for hours more.

  “Now that you’ve officially ended your polo career, let’s discuss my burning desire for you to take the helm of Castillo Enterprises when I retire...”

  Giovanni coughed into his fist. He knew this day was coming, that his dad would waste no time making plans for his future once he ended his polo career, but he was calling the shots, not Vincente. Reaching out, he clasped Rosario’s hand, raised it to his chest and held it tight. Rosario had a leadership quality that their staff respected and responded enthusiastically to, and the polo club was nothing without her. They were a formidable duo who helped each other learn, grow and thrive in their respective positions, and Giovanni felt fortunate to have Rosario by his side.

  “Dad, I’m willing to work full-time at Castillo Enterprises and take complete control of the company when you retire in the new year—on one condition.”

  Vincente bolted upright in his chair. Excitement twinkled in his eyes and brightened his wrinkled face. “Anything, son. What is it?”

  “To succeed, I need someone in my corner I can trust, so Rosario has to be named CEO, too. We’ll be joint CEOs and run Castillo Enterprises together.”

  Rosario gasped and rested a hand to her chest. “You want us to work as a team?”

  “Yeah, sis, I do. We’ll be based in the Hamptons, but travel to Argentina when needed.”

  Sniffling, she tilted her head back and fanned her face. “I’m so happy I could cry!”

  “You are crying,” Josefa teased, wiping her sister’s tears with her fingertips. “Now, cut it out or I’ll start bawling, too, and stain my cute Valentino party dress, and I paid big bucks for it!”

  The women laughed and Giovanni studied Vincente.

  “Dad, what do you say? Do we have a deal, or do I need to look for another job?”