“Grandfather!” Clarissa called out.
Matt looked over as Dr. Rutledge approached the table. He stopped and put his hands on his hips. “Grandfather? My granddaughter is the most beautiful girl in the world. Not some witchy woman!”
Clarissa giggled and lifted the mask. “It’s me, Grandfather!”
Matt smiled as Dr. Rutledge gathered Clarissa up in his arms. A familiar tug pulled at his heart. He’d been so terrified of his own grandfather that he called him “Mr. Matthews.” Being with him had been like being in the principal’s office for an offense he didn’t commit. He turned away and finished cleaning up the detritus of the project.
“Matt.”
He looked up at Dr. Rutledge. “Yes, sir?”
“Eliot. How many times do I have to ask you?”
“Sorry. Prep school indoctrination.”
“I just wanted to thank you again for all you do here.”
Matt stood. “No need for that. This...” He trailed off. How to explain it? That it was like a drug? That moment when a kid who is scared or angry or feeling overwhelmed lets go of it all and smiles and laughs? Acts like a kid? He lived for, craved those moments.
“This is your passion. I can see that. Anything I can help out with?”
Matt shrugged. “Your patronage has helped a lot. I’m funneling all the funds from the sale of my art into setting up a nonprofit so I can do this full-time and reach kids outside the hospital setting. There are a lot of kids in not-so-ideal situations that art therapy can help.”
“Well, Lena Reyes can help with that.”
“I hope so. The sooner the better. Thanks again for getting me in the door with her. I know she’s very picky about what clients she takes on.”
“You’re welcome,” Eliot said, but a slight frown creased his brow. “You know...”
Matt waited. “Yes, sir?”
Eliot shook his head. “Just chasing down an idea. For an outreach outside the hospital setting. Let me talk to a couple of people and I’ll get back to you.”
“Okay. Any tips on how to smooth things over with Lena?”
Eliot’s rich laughter echoed in the cavernous playroom. “Grovel.”
Grovel. Matt smiled, remembering the look in Lena’s eyes when she realized he was the artist of the work she’d just called ugly. He hadn’t meant to trick her. There was something about her. She hadn’t hidden her anger behind a simpering smile. He’d embarrassed her and she’d been angry and let him know. He liked that. The honesty in her reaction. No games. No nonsense. He’d grovel to get her to handle his meager proceeds. He’d grovel to get her to do almost anything.
“Yo, dude! You ready?”
He looked up to see Dylan standing in the doorway, gym bag slung over a shoulder. Dylan was a respiratory therapist at the hospital and the first guy friend he’d made since moving to Charleston.
“Yep. Let me just finish cleaning up in here.”
* * *
THE DRIVE FROM downtown Charleston to the rural church halfway to Beaufort took a solid forty-five minutes. Which meant she had to wake up, on purpose, before nine on a Sunday morning. Lena sighed as she wiggled into a suitable church dress. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see her family. Well, that wasn’t quite true. The unspoken question was always hanging in the air. How had Sadie snagged a husband before her?
Not that anyone would ever actually say it out loud. Except Estrella. She’d probably do it. Estrella had been a giant bag of disapproval since Lito, Lena’s grandfather, died. For what, Lena wasn’t sure but only the deeply ingrained respect for her elders kept her from pointing out to her aunt that it had been her hard work that lifted the family out of poverty. Estrella would still be in that trailer park if not for her. Not that she begrudged helping her family, but a little gratitude might be nice.
Pulling into the gravel parking lot beside the tidy, small white church relaxed something inside her. Maybe it was the way the ancient oak trees surrounded the church like sentinels. Or the quiet of the countryside. Perhaps she should go to confession. She’d been venial sinning up a storm lately. She checked her lipstick in the rearview mirror before climbing out of her BMW. A thin thread of suspicion wound around her peacefulness when she saw her mother and Aunt Estrella waiting on the porch steps.
“Mamacita,” she said as she approached and kissed her mother on both cheeks, before pulling her into a hug.
“Lena,” her mother said as she wrapped strong arms around her. “It’s been too long.”
“Lo siento. It’s just work has been crazy busy.”
Estrella snorted rudely. “You work too much.”
Lena kept the fire out of her eyes and forced her lips up in a small smile. “I’m the boss, Tia. If I don’t do the work, it doesn’t get done.”
Ana hooked her arm through Lena’s. “Enough of all that. Today is for family.”
The familiar rituals of the service soothed away Lena’s irritation. It was true she didn’t go to church often, but she found comfort in the tradition of it. The litany and the responses that never changed. The rising and kneeling. Making the cross. She found herself relaxing for what felt like the first time in forever.
Until mass was over. As the crowd milled around in the aisles on the way out, Lena felt a strong hand grip her elbow. Estrella wasn’t going to let go anytime soon. “Maria! It’s so good to see you.”
Estrella chirped out the greeting while dragging Lena with her toward the woman. And, aw crap. A guy. It’s a setup. This whole thing is a setup. Every bit of relaxation she’d felt slipped away.
“Is this your son? Qué guapo.”
Only the fact that they were in a church kept Lena from rolling her eyes. She jerked her elbow away from the vise grip.
“And this must be your niece I hear so much about. Magdalena, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Smiling and nodding, she shook the woman’s hand. “A pleasure to meet you also.” She looked at the guy. He looked as blindsided as she felt. Meddling aunties. Where would we be without them? She extended a hand to him. “Lena Reyes.”
“Eduardo Jiminez.”
Ana joined them and put an arm around Lena’s waist. “Maria, please, you and Eddie must come to the house for dinner with us.”
The fake smile melted from Lena’s lips as she gave her mother some epic side-eye. Which Ana pretended she didn’t see.
Maria put a hand on Estrella’s shoulder. “That is so kind of you. As I recall, there isn’t a chef in any fancy restaurant downtown who can cook as well as the three of you. Eduardo? We’d be delighted to join you, right?”
Lena didn’t miss the slight change in tone of voice on the word right. She was definitely in on this. Eduardo’s cheeks darkened and his shoulders slumped. “Of course, Mamacita.”
* * *
DINNER WAS AN awkward hour of competitive bragging by Maria and Estrella. The only comfort she had was that Eduardo looked as horrifyingly embarrassed as she felt. Then, as if prearranged, everyone disappeared and left the two of them alone.
“So, I guess this is the part where we fall madly in love at first sight, get married tomorrow and start having grandbabies immediately?” Lena asked.
“I’m so sorry. I had no idea they’d planned this.”
Lena dismissed his apology with a shrug and a wave. “I understand. I had no idea either. Don’t worry about it.”
“But, I’m kind of glad they did,” he said.
Lena’s stomach dropped. No, no. Go back to being embarrassed so we can both run like hell. She looked him over. Dark complexion. Black glasses that gave him a good-looking-nerd vibe to match his job as a software engineer. Thinner than she liked. “Oh?” she asked through numb lips.
“You’re very pretty.” His cheeks darkened with the words.
Blushing? You’ve got to be kidding me. Hoping the smile on her lips didn’t look as fake as it felt, she rose. “Thank you. It was nice to meet you. I have to go now.”
Before he could say anything more, she fled to the kitchen. She shot Estrella a look that should have burned the flesh from her bones. “Do. Not. Ever. Do. That. Again.”
“Lena...” her mother began.
“Lo siento, Mamacita, but I can’t take any more of this. Do you understand? No more.” She left through the back door so she wouldn’t have to face Eduardo again. Footsteps chased her across the porch.
“Magdalena Teresa Reyes!”
Wow. It’d been a long time since her mother three-named her. She turned. Still mad but wilting under her mother’s glare. “I’m sorry, Momma. But that was embarrassing.”
The look in Ana’s eyes softened and she took Lena’s hand. “Lena. We want you to be happy. You’ve worked so long and so hard and you’ve always put the family first but we’re okay now. You’re okay now. It’s safe to slow down a little.”
Tears stung at her eyes. Is that what it was? Is that what was wrong with her? Was she still that same little girl terrified of failure? Of letting her family down? “It’s not that,” she said.
“Then what is it?”
Lena looked away. Across the expanse of lawn to the forest behind the house. Fifty acres. There was a path through the woods that led to a creek where her parents caught fish and sank crab traps. She’d given them this. Built all this. All these things. This house. Her fancy car. The expensive condominium. The Jimmy Choos on her feet.
“I want the magic, Mamacita. I want the romance. The whirlwind. I don’t want to be set up by my meddling aunt.”
“No reason you can’t have both. Give him a chance. He’s a nice guy.”
Lena smiled. She leaned in to hug her mother so she couldn’t see her dubious expression. Nice guys weren’t her type. No. She liked the bad boys but knew they weren’t in it for the long haul. She needed a nice bad boy. Matt rose in her mind’s eye. All long blond hair and that beard. Sort of Viking-ish. Those blue eyes and rakish grin. God, no. Overgrown frat boys were definitely not her type.
“I understand that, Momma. But no more ambushes. It made me feel like a yard-sale item.” She waved her hands in the air and adopted a carnival barker’s voice. “Over here! Fifty percent off the old maid. Come check ’er out.”
Ana crossed her arms and gave Lena a cool gaze. “Don’t get dramatic. I’m still your mother and I can still take a switch to your backside. Estrella made it seem like she would ask them over in private. I didn’t know she was going to make a production out of it.”
Lena pushed her lower lip out.
“Stop pouting. You are almost thirty years old.”
“I’ll stop pouting when you all stop treating me like a child.”
“Stop acting like one.”
“I am not acting childish. I’m acting attacked and embarrassed and humiliated.”
The two women stared at each other for a long minute. A heavy step on the porch stairs drew their attention.
“Papa,” Lena said with a respectful nod.
Her father approached and put his hands on Ana’s shoulders. “Ana, go on back inside. Let me talk to Magdalena.”
Great. Here comes the final word from the man. The head of the household. Lena held her tongue and schooled her expression into some semblance of neutrality.
After Ana shut the door behind her, he turned and took Lena’s hands. “Carida. Don’t be angry with your mother.”
“I’m not. I’m angry at Estrella.”
He made a face. “I’m not her biggest fan either, but she’s your mother’s sister so we’re stuck with her.”
They walked back to the porch and sat on the bottom step. Lena leaned against her father as he put an arm around her shoulders. “I know I’m a huge disappointment to—”
“No.” The word cut curtly across her words. “You are nothing but a blessing to this family. No one is disappointed in you.”
“It’s just that ever since Sadie...”
He shifted away to put a hand to her chin and turn her face to his. “Look at me. We are all happy for Sadie. After not having a family all her life, she’s getting one. But you are not Sadie. You are my daughter. Yes, the women are all stirred up about this. It’s normal. You start talking weddings and everyone wants to be a grandmother.”
Lena nodded. Looping her arms around his middle, she snuggled her cheek against his shoulder. “Thank you, Papa. Will you tell them to stop it now?”
His rich laughter rumbled through his chest to her ear. “I value my peace and quiet. I don’t tell the women in this family what to do.”
CHAPTER FOUR
MONDAY FOUND HER back in her element. Her office on Broad Street was only a few blocks walk from her condominium. Tucked away in the back of a historic building, it was a small office, but she didn’t need a lot of room. She loved the space with its two-hundred-year-old pinewood flooring and walls of exposed brick. Sleek, minimalist furniture decorated the reception room. Less was more, she’d learned.
“Good morning,” Chloe, her receptionist, greeted her. “How was your weekend?”
“Annoying. How was yours?”
“So much fun! Some of my sorority sisters and I went up to the mountains and the leaves are all turning for fall. Met some cute guys.”
Lena smiled. Chloe was virtually a cliché of a sorority girl. Pretty. Thin. Blonde. Obsessed with fashion. She’d almost dismissed her application out of hand, but during the interview, she’d found Chloe to be smart and disciplined. The fact that she’d grown up in the homes of the rich people who Lena hoped to make richer was a bonus. Chloe knew how to tease and charm the clients but more importantly, she was an amazing manager.
The door opened and Lena’s second employee came in. If Chloe soothed the nerves of the upper crust about having an unknown Hispanic woman handle their money, Mose certainly challenged their faith. Mose, named Moseley Braun after the first female African American senator, was almost six feet tall with a strong, athletic build and dark skin that made her hazel eyes stand out. She wore her hair shorn close to her head and usually about two pounds of jewelry. She was also poised to be the first partner in Reyes Financial Management.
“Did you hear about Hong Kong?” Mose asked the second she crossed the threshold.
“Good or bad?”
“Good. I’ll have a report on your desk in an hour.”
Lena and Chloe watched as Mose continued through the reception to her tiny office in the back. “Well, okay,” Chloe said. “Welcome to Monday.”
“Any messages over the weekend?”
“Just one. A...” Chloe cleared her throat and continued in a dramatic tone. “Charles Beaumont Matthews the Fifth said he had been referred by Eliot Rutledge and would like to set up an appointment.”
“The fifth? What is wrong with these people?”
Chloe shrugged. “Not a clue. Usually whoever is the third breaks with tradition and names their child something new. But some of these old-money dudes are awful attached to the name.” She made air quotes around the last two words.
Lena waved a hand. “Set it up. Earliest this week.”
She stopped at the coffeemaker before heading to her office. Mondays were generally appointment free. The stock market didn’t stop for the weekend, and while she kept an eye on the happenings over the weekend, unless something monumental happened, she waited until Monday. It was a day of review and planning. Taking what action was necessary to either protect or improve her clients’ portfolios. She kicked her shoes off the moment she sat at her desk. Charles Beaumont Matthews the Fifth. She’d pegged him 100 percent. Spoiled trust-fund baby. Playing with daddy’s money. She couldn’t wait to tell him no, no matter what Eliot thought of him. She flicked her eyes in the direction of Mose’s office. Unless he really had a lot of money. Maybe she’d kick him over to Mose as her first client.
She plugged her phone in and opened her Pandora app to her classical music station and began sorting through the weekend’s financial changes. Knowing what changes would affect which clients and adjusting accordingly was the thing she loved most about her job. It was a constant dance. She had to keep the perfect balance between daring and caution. Most of all, she loved when that little tingle of intuition that she couldn’t explain proved to be successful.
A flickering light caught her eye and she frowned at the phone. She’d been deep in the zone. Lowering the volume, she picked up the phone. “Yes, Chloe?”
“Sorry to bother you, but William Durant is on the phone. He says he needs to speak to you about his accounts.”
“Put him through.” She pulled up Bill’s account. Not her biggest. Not her smallest. Nor her most challenging. A cautious investor, Bill Durant was. “Good morning, Bill. How can I help you?”
“Well, I have some good news and some bad news. Good news—I’ve taken a position with a medical ministry in Scotland.”
“Wow. Okay. That sounds amazing. Tell me about it.”
“Essentially, I will be coordinating medical missions for the School of Medicine in Glasgow. A dream job for me. And, of course, we’ll be moving there. The kids are very excited.”
“Well, where’s the bad news, then?” She smiled as she said it, but she knew what was coming. He was taking his money with him.
“The thing is, my wife and I have talked about it and we don’t think we’re going to come back.”
“So you’re going to need to transfer your accounts to Scotland. That’s reasonable.”
“Yes. It won’t be right away. I’m leaving in a month. Sandra and the kids will follow if the house hasn’t sold by then. And I’ll have to find someone as good as you in Scotland. Will you be able to do the transfers once I’m over there?”
“Yes. It won’t be a problem. I’m sorry to lose you, but I’m excited for you. Sounds like an amazing opportunity for the whole family.”
She carried on the chitchat for a while. “Well, shit,” she said out loud after she ended the call. She kept her list small and exclusive so that she could give each client all the attention they deserved. It was a delicate balance that kept the agency’s lights on.
She let out a low stream of Spanish expletives. Now she had to hope Mr. Charles Beaumont Matthews the Fifth had an account big enough to replace what she was going to lose.
* * *
MATT LOUNGED BACK in one of the two armchairs that made up his living room in the cramped apartment. The downtown location was perfect for his needs. He could walk to both his jobs, the grocery store and the waterfront was near enough to haul his painting supplies to. But damn, it was pricey. He bounced his phone in his hand. He did not want to make this call. Talking to his father never ended well. Playing briefly with the idea of calling his mother instead, he shook his head. No. She didn’t know anything. How in this day and age a woman could defer every financial detail of her life to her husband, he couldn’t comprehend.
“Ah, screw it,” he muttered. Do it for the kids, man. He made the call before he could talk himself out of it.
“Hi, Millicent,” he said to his father’s executive assistant and suspected lover. “It’s Matt. Is my father available to talk?”
“One moment, I’ll check.”
If she was surprised to hear from him, her voice didn’t show it. She was smooth, almost coldly polite. With one quick click, classical music filled his ear. He waited. And waited. He hooked the other chair with his foot and pulled it around to prop his feet up on and let his head fall back to stare at the ceiling. Warm October sunshine flowed through the window. He noticed the fall of the light and the swirling dust motes. He should probably dust.
Finally, after whatever length of time his father deemed necessary to exert dominance, the line clicked again. “What is it, Charles? I’m very busy.”
“Hey, Dad. How are you? How’s Mother?”
“What do you want? And don’t say money.”
Narrowing his eyes at the dig, he pressed his lips together against the automatic response that wanted to fly out of his mouth. A fight wasn’t why he’d called. He had never asked his father for a cent. Keep calm. Don’t get drawn in.
“Actually I was calling to get some information about the trust fund Grandmother left me.”
“You can’t access it early if that is what you want.”
He kept careful control over his temper. But his father could make him lose it faster than anyone on the planet. “That isn’t what I was going to ask but it’s heartwarming that you still have such a low opinion of me.”
“Then what do you want?”
“I’m having some success with my art recently and I’m getting ready to hire a financial manager. I wanted to know if I can transfer the administration of the trust fund over to her, or does it have to stay with the executor of Grandmother’s estate?”
The long moment of silence made him grin. He hadn’t expected that, now, had he? If he heard a throat clearing, that would mean he’d scored a direct hit. But alas, his father’s voice was steady and cold. “That’s something you’d need to discuss with the executor.”
“Can I have the contact information?”
“I’ll send you back to Millicent for that.”
“Thanks, Dad,” he said as the call ended on his father’s end. “Nice chat. We should do it again sometime.”
After getting the information from Millicent, he tossed the phone on the couch beside him. Nice to know nothing’s changed. Still the black sheep, the wayward son. Growing up under the weight of his family’s expectations had been suffocating. They’d given him little choice: join the law firm or go away. So he’d gone away. Only his grandmother had believed in him and encouraged his art from a young age. Her death six years ago had driven the last wedge between him and his family. The bulk of her estate had gone to charity, but she’d left a sizable trust fund for him. His parents had been furious with their tokens and his father even tried to contest the will.
Trouble was he wouldn’t get the money until he was thirty-five. Which was why he was scrambling between his part-time jobs as an art therapist and giving lessons to anyone who would hire him. This little windfall needed expert guidance. And Lena Reyes was the woman he wanted to do it.
He grabbed up the phone and dialed her number.
Ten minutes later, he was making his way to the Children’s Hospital with a grin he couldn’t quite keep off his face. He’d get to see the lovely Lena on Friday. The sun was shining. The sky was blue. The temperature was a perfect seventy degrees. Maybe he could take the kids outside to paint in the horseshoe area.
* * *
AS IF THIS Monday wasn’t sucky enough with losing a client and having to make an appointment with a bad-boy trust-fund brat, now her mother was calling. All Lena wanted was to sit on the couch, drink wine and eat pizza. “Hey, Mom, what’s up?”
“Eduardo would like a date.”
Lena dropped the slice of pizza back on the plate. Sass jumped up and stuck her face in it.
“No!”
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry. I was talking to the cat. Come on, Mom. Really? Y’all are setting me up on blind dates now?”
“It’s not a blind date. You’ve met him. He liked you.”
Lena frowned and picked at a piece of pepperoni. She’d have to go for a run tomorrow to make up for this. She tried to put a name to the emotion squirming within her at the idea of going on a date with Eduardo. Don’t want to. Yeah, that’s it.
“Magdalena.”
“I don’t want to.”
“You sound like a whining six-year-old. He’s a nice man. Educated. Has a good job. Not bad-looking. What? You got so many men falling at your feet that you can be picky?”
“Damn, Mom. You can lay one hell of a guilt trip.”
“Don’t curse. It isn’t ladylike. And I’m Catholic—we’ve cornered the market on guilt. May I give him your phone number?”
Slouching down into the corner of the couch, Lena sighed. So, she’d go on a date. Give him a chance. Then maybe they’d leave her alone. She could say she tried. “Okay.”
Hanging up, she looked up at the ceiling.
Sass jumped back up on the couch and stared at her. “What do you think, Sass? Eduardo?”
Sass responded by lifting her leg and licking her privates. Lena took a huge bite of pizza. “Now, that,” she said with her mouth full, “is unladylike.”