LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

intimidated by the Santiago-Marshall name. Of course it was wonderful to have people scrape and bow, but if you allowed her to walk over you, Mariella would gladly place one of her red-soled heels in your back and not think twice about it. She expected the highest level of professionalism and perfection in all of her staff members, and it extended to anyone that she did business with. She would settle for nothing less than she was willing to give. She suspected they called her perra—bitch—behind her back, but she didn’t care. It fueled her and made her more focused.

      “The caterer should be here in about a half hour with the samples for the entrées and main courses.”

      “Thank you.”

      Teresa offered a tight-lipped smile and walked out.

      Teresa reminded Mariella of a younger version of herself. She made a mental note to speak with Gabe about Teresa. Although she knew the names and faces of the employees, Gabe was the one who worked more closely with them on a regular basis and knew of their capabilities. When Mariella had refused to turn over the reins of overseeing Elana’s engagement party, even in light of Harrison’s condition, he’d suggested Teresa in the hopes of alleviating some of Mariella’s burden. It was working. Teresa was good. Maybe there was more that she could handle. Perhaps she’d like to be Elana’s wedding planner, too, from here on out instead of Mariella? Most of the final decisions were already made, but Teresa could take over on the actual day to keep everything running smoothly.

      Mariella had returned her attention to the assorted linens when she glanced up and saw Joe coming in her direction. Her heart seemed to stop beating, and a flood of heat rushed through her. Her hand flew to her chest.

      Joe rushed toward her when he caught the look of terror in her large eyes.

      “Please...don’t tell me...”

      “No. No. I’m so sorry.” He clasped her shoulders. “I didn’t mean to alarm you. Everything is fine...well, at least the same.” Mariella sank into his chest. Joe held her lightly against him and rested his chin on her head. “I came by because I figured you could use some moral support with all this planning.” He looked around at the display of boxes and samples.

      Mariella stepped back and looked up into his eyes. She stroked his cheek. “Always thinking of the family. What would we do without you?”

      He took her hand and kissed it. “I’m always here for you, Mariella.”

      She took him by the hand and led him over to one of the chairs, sitting opposite him. “I want you to be honest with me.”

      “Always.”

      “Do you think we should still go through with the wedding?”

      Joe sat down, leaned forward and rested his arms on his strong thighs. “The real question is, do Elana and Thom still want to go through with it?”

      Mariella flicked a finely arched brow and sighed heavily. “Harrison has been terribly worried about Elana and that adúltero Jarrod Jones. So am I.” She shook her dark head. “She is...obsessed with this man. A man that belongs to another woman. What kind of woman does that make my daughter!” She jumped up from her seat and began to pace as she spoke. “Elana must settle down.” She pointed her finger toward the floor for emphasis. “Thom is the right man for her. He is like the anchor to her ship.” She shook her head, her lustrous dark hair spilling across her shoulders. “I still have nightmares about the near-miss scandal with Elana and him at the Fortune 500 gala a few months ago. Imagine getting caught in a stairwell with your Herve Leger dress halfway up your spoiled ass! What if it had been someone other than Rafe who walked in on them! Dios mío!” She threw up her hands in frustration.

      Joe totally understood Mariella’s concerns. He and Harrison had spoken about his concerns as well. But between Harrison and Mariella, neither of them had been able to stop Elana. If anything, much like her mother, she dug her heels in and only became more secretive. Jarrod was certainly a problem in the overall scheme of things, but pushing unwilling people down the aisle wasn’t the answer, either. He had a problem with that. But it wasn’t his place, and he knew that even though she asked, Mariella didn’t really want to hear an honest opinion other than the one she’d already settled on.

      “Have you talked with Elana?” Joe gently asked, slowing down her tirade.

      Mariella came back to herself. She heaved a breath and lifted her chin. “Elana doesn’t know what’s good for her. She’s in some fantasy world. This marriage is the best thing. If she does not go through with the wedding, I know that she will go back to that man. He’s like a...a drug that she can’t seem to shake. Harrison would agree with me. It’s what he wanted for Elana. Thom is what she needs.” She walked to the table and took a long sip from her flute of champagne.

      Joe’s brows drew together. He knew that when Mariella made up her mind and she had Harrison’s backing there was no turning her around. They wanted their daughter married off to someone respectable and single, as if marriage was the cure for what ailed Elana. He knew all too well the feeling of desperation when what you wanted was constantly out of reach.

      “Sometimes, Mariella, you can’t help who you fall for, who you love,” he said, knowing that he’d just stepped into dangerous territory.

      Mariella swung toward him. “Love? This is pure lust.”

      “Oh, there you are.” Elana burst into the room, a bit breathless. She looked from one to the other.

      Mariella’s breath hitched the instant she saw her daughter. She’d been with that man. It was splashed all over her—the puffy lips, the flushed skin. She’d deal with Elana later. This was certainly not the place for a scene.

      Elana breezed over and kissed her mother’s cheek and did the same with Joe. She pranced to the long table that was lined with the open boxes and samples. “My, my, my.” She lifted one of the flutes from the box and held it up to the light. “Nice. I like it.” She spun around and turned bright eyes on her mother and Joe.

      “Where’s Thom?” Mariella asked, noticing that her daughter only had on one earring.

      Elana blinked then frowned in confusion. “I thought he was meeting me here.”

      “Elana!” Mariella took Elana by the arm and pulled her off to the side out of earshot of Joe and the staff.

      Joe could only catch a few words here and there that fluctuated between English and rapid Spanish. “You will do this...think of your future...su padre...no more of your screwups...stay away...comprende...”

      Joe shook his head. He didn’t know whom he felt most sorry for, Mariella or Elana. Both were hotheaded and stubborn. Elana’s problems were heightened by her impulsiveness, and of course this thing she had going on with Jarrod Jones totally pushed Mariella over the edge. Mariella was accustomed to having what she wanted done without question. She was focused, meticulous, above reproach, professional, everything that her daughter was not. Elana went against her mother’s grain on so many levels, and it drove Mariella crazy.

      The reality was you can’t control how people feel, what they want, who they love. If he knew nothing else, he knew that firsthand. His two marriages had been failures because he married for all the wrong reasons—hoping that marriage would help him forget. Trying to force Elana to marry Thom was a mistake in his mind, but he could never tell Mariella that—not exactly. What he did want to tell her was that her husband was not the saint she thought he was. Even though he’d been in two loveless marriages, he prided himself on the fact that he’d never cheated. Unfortunately, he couldn’t say the same for Harrison.

      It was a miracle that none of the parade of women over the years had made themselves known. He had no idea how Harrison managed to keep them all under wraps. Probably the Fixer had a hand in that as well. But as long as they stayed put and out of sight, Joe would keep his own counsel and let Mariella keep her illusions.

      Harrison’s most recent indiscretion—at least to Joe’s knowledge—had been less than six months earlier, when they’d visited Miami on business and decided

Скачать книгу