Fresh Temptation: Barboza Brothers, Book One (2 page)

Knowing her too well, he
closed his eyes and leaned a bit closer.
Might as well get it over with
.
“What is it?”

“I’m sorry I had to do
this. You ignore my calls. I need to speak with you.”

“Then get on with
it.”

She stammered in response
to his sharp tone. “I just…think…we should give it another shot.
I…” She gulped. “I was wrong. It’ll never happen again.”

His head shook. “We’re
finished. I know who you really are now.”

“No, you
don’t.”

“Yes I do. Trust me. This
little stunt you pulled tonight is exactly what I’m talking about.
You’re so selfish; you’ll do anything to get your way.” He finally
made eye contact with her, leveling his glance just enough to show
the woman he could not be charmed by her loveliness. Yes, she was
an auburn-haired vision to behold but he wouldn’t be made a fool
twice. “I only came here tonight out of respect for your family and
this organization. I would walk out of here right now,
chica
, but that would
only cause you and your family embarrassment. You want people to
talk about us tonight and think we’re back together but I don’t
care what they think.”

Alexis pursed her lips,
hoping to contain her tears. She remembered when he used to call
her, “
mi amor
.”
And now, “
chica
?”
It rolled off his lips in such a tawdry fashion. “You’re making a
mistake.”

“Well, you made one
first.” Victor scooted his chair as far from her as possible and
struck up a new conversation with the couple sitting beside
him.

After several unsuccessful
attempts to get his attention again, Alexis excused herself from
the table. Victor didn’t turn around to see where she
went.

* * *

Cara Green held her cell
phone at her thigh and tried not to let her supervisor see she was
reading a text message. Luna Lee Catering had a strict policy
against cell phone usage, and as much as she needed this weekend
job, she had to know if her three-year-old son, Isaac, was all
right.

The text message from her
mother read, “In ER right now. Temp 103.”

Cara’s eyes welled up as
she slid the phone into her pocket. She wanted to stay home and
take care of him today, but it wasn’t possible. Between her three
jobs, she would soon have enough money to pay the outrageous co-pay
for the tonsillectomy Isaac desperately needed. She mustered a grin
and tried not to think about how miserable and fussy he had been
since yesterday. When she left the house for work today, he
launched his warm little forehead against her chest, crying for her
to stay. As long as she didn’t picture his sad face, she was
fine.

Isaac was prone to ear,
nose, and throat infections. The doctor made it perfectly clear
that a tonsillectomy was inevitable. “Simple procedure,” he said,
“kids recover fast.” The doctor went on and on trying to convince
her, but Cara was already convinced.

If only her insurance
company wasn’t such an asshole.

Trying to save money, Cara
swallowed her pride and moved in with her mother. So far, it wasn’t
nearly as bad as she had feared. She was just another of the many
people she knew who had to move back in with their parents after
layoffs, divorces, inability to find a job. For Cara, being a
twenty-seven-year-old single mom while living with her mother was a
nightmare come true. But she tried to stay positive. She just knew
she would get another public relations job once the economy turned
around. This life of working three jobs and barely spending time
with her son would end once she had a nest egg saved up. During the
week, she was a receptionist at a ramshackle construction company
that she was pretty sure doubled as a front for a money laundering
scam. On the weekends, she worked for Luna Lee Catering when they
needed her. And if that wasn’t enough, she helped an old high
school friend, Marcy, with her new office cleaning business in the
evenings.

This week, Cara had seen
Isaac a total of twelve hours. And for most of those hours, he was
asleep with his latest sinus infection.

On the bright side, this
was the swankiest party Cara had seen in a long time. The staff had
already been alerted that there would be plenty of trays of goodies
to take home tonight. Leftovers were a blessing for her bank
account, but a curse for her waistline. Since taking this job, she
had gone from a size ten to a size fourteen, but that was the least
of her concerns. She ate what she could, when she could. Tonight,
she and some of the other servers had already polished off several
small trays of heavy hors d’oeuvres, courtesy of the
manager.

And her pants felt even
tighter.

She chuckled to herself
and popped a mini-quiche into her mouth, from the tray she was
preparing. They were going to make a delicious breakfast
tomorrow.

She was just about to
start on the next tray when her supervisor, Keith, walked
in.

“Need you out front,
Cara.” He groaned. “Sandy just went home with the stomach
flu.”

“Great.” Cara nodded,
praying silently that she hadn’t already been exposed to new germs
to bring home to Isaac.

Seconds later, she walked
out of the kitchen with an empty tray and started to clear dishes
from tables full of guests who were finished with the first course.
As usual, she was amazed by the excess surrounding her.
Why do women need to wear prom dresses to raise
money to fight poverty?
This was
so
not her scene. Rich
people eating rich food, having boring conversations about rich
things. Most of them didn’t make eye contact with her when she
asked, “May I take this?” They just nodded and went about their
evening, chatting with the people beside them. She smiled despite
their arrogance. Some of the men wore cuff links that surely would
have paid off her entire credit card debt.

On her third round of
cleanup, a few of the guests spoke to her, making polite small
talk.

An elderly woman touched
her arm. “Could you please tell me the name of tonight’s chef,
dear? This food is simply divine.”

“Um…” Cara shut her eyes
tight for second, trying to remember. She had only heard it once,
during the staff meeting before set up, and she was distracted with
the task of hiding her cell phone. There was indeed a fancy chef on
staff that night. From what Cara understood, he supplied the
recipes and hung around in case one of the guests wanted to pay him
their compliments. She saw him for approximately five seconds
before he headed off to the terrace for the evening to smoke
cigarettes. But she suddenly remembered. “Um…Andrew Trafalgar!” She
calmed her voice and repeated herself. “Yes, Andrew
Trafalgar.”

The woman turned to her
husband, nodding. “We’ll have to keep him in mind, won’t we?” She
smiled and gave Cara’s hand a warm pat. “Do give him my
compliments, please. The name’s Betsy Kisch.”

Cara grinned, hiding her
tightly clenched teeth. “Yes. Betsy Kisch. I’ll remember.”
Sure, like I have nothing better to do than to
pay your compliments to that jackass doing nothing but sitting on
his ass outside?

Betsy turned to the
handsome man on her other side. “Smashing first course, wouldn’t
you agree?”

The young, dark-haired man
spoke dramatically. “Absolutely, Bets.
Smashing
. How in the world did you
read my mind?” Quickly, he cocked a brow and gave Cara a wink that
made her chuckle.

Betsy Kisch gave him a
playful slap on his wrist and burst into laughter. She knew she was
being mocked.

Appreciating his sarcasm
in the midst of this stuffy crowd, Cara asked a question just as a
gorgeous redhead took the vacant seat beside him. “Sir, would you
like me to forward your compliments to Mr. Trafalgar as
well?”

“Sure. Victor Barboza.” He
gave the redhead a short, sideways glance, then looked up at Cara.
“But I won’t be needing the services of a chef or a caterer anytime
in the foreseeable future. No big events coming up.”

The redhead stared
straight ahead. “That’s enough, Victor.”

Cara let out a nervous
giggle, her wrist aching from the tray of dirty dishes she
supported with one hand. Tension was unmistakable between these two
strangers. “Okay then. I’ll pass the compliment along.”

As soon as the words left
her mouth, her phone vibrated in her pocket and her smile
disappeared.

Isaac.

Tears filled her
eyes.
I’m the worst mother in the
world.
If only she weren’t so desperate
for this paltry paycheck she would have taken her sweet, sick
toddler to the emergency room herself. She briefly scanned the
room, sickened by the decadence. These people had no idea how easy
their lives were compared to hers. Surely their children wanted for
nothing, especially something as simple as medical care for a sinus
infection.

Since the room was noisy
and the people at this table seemed nice, Cara looked around for
her supervisor. She then made a split-second decision to look at
her phone.

She forced a big, fake
smile, hoping they wouldn’t notice her watery eyes. “Is it okay if
I set this tray down on the table for a sec?”

Victor returned her smile.
“Sure, honey. Take all the room you need.” He took the tray from
hand and placed it directly in front of him.

“Thanks.” Cara didn’t
notice the redhead’s jealous glare as she pulled her phone from her
pocket. She looked down at her mother’s message, which said,
“Surgery Monday morning. Call soon.”

A few tears escaped Cara’s
eyes and she wiped them away. If a doctor deemed it to be an
emergency, the cost would be completely covered, either by her
insurance or by one of the free hospitals in the area. And even if
that fell through, she would find a way to pay for it herself. A
hefty monthly payment plan, a new credit card, another job.
Whatever it took. She felt a sense of relief, knowing Isaac would
soon be back to his fun-loving self.

She took a deep breath and
reached down for the tray. “Thanks.”

Victor’s eyebrows
crinkled. “Everything okay?”

She grinned. “It will
be.”

The redhead stood just as
Cara lifted the tray. “Was that a cell phone I just
saw?”

Shit.
Cara’s tone was sheepish. “Um…yeah.”

Victor shot the redhead an
angry look. “Alexis, don’t.”

Alexis walked around his
chair and looked Cara in the eye. “We were assured the staff
wouldn’t spend their evening on their cell phones. It’s very
unprofessional and this is an expensive event.”

Cara felt a giant knot
form in her stomach. “I’m really sorry. I know I could get in
trouble but I have a three-year-old in the emergency room. He’s
really sick.”

The guests at the table
were now looking at Cara, their mouths gaping.

Betsy Kisch spoke up. “Oh
dear, what’s wrong? Is he all right?”

Alexis shook her head.
“You’re here, working, instead of taking care of your sick
son?”

Cara’s mouth dropped open.
“Yes, as a matter of fact.” Her fear quickly turned to anger as she
looked in Alexis’s judgmental eyes. “You know, some of us weren’t
born with silver spoons in our mouths. Some of us have to work hard
for a living, even when we have sick kids at home.”

Alexis scoffed. “Yeah,
whatever.” She turned on her heel and scurried away, her long dress
flapping against her perfectly toned calves.

“That’s just great.” Cara
sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and closed her eyes, hoping
the tears wouldn’t come. She knew she would lose her job over
this.

The people at the table
all spoke at once. Cara was too shaken to discern any of their
words. She simply reached down for the tray, opened her eyes, and
headed back to the kitchen as fast as her feet would allow. She was
almost there when she heard someone following her.

“Hey.” Victor put a hand
against her back. “I’m so sorry about her.”

Cara paused to look in his
eyes. “That wife of yours…” She shut her mouth.
Maybe you won’t get fired. No need to mouth off and make your
situation worse.
She grunted and walked on
through the swinging kitchen doors.

Victor followed her
inside. “She and I aren’t together. She’s a fucking bitch. I’ll
talk to your manager. Alexis is probably angry because I’m ignoring
her and she thought I was flirting with you. She’s really
selfish.”

Cara let out a cold
chuckle and sat the tray on top of the counter. “Yeah well, maybe
I’m better off. I need to go check on my son anyway.”

“Is he okay?”

“He will be.”

“Is there anything I can
do?” Victor’s brown eyes were full of compassion. “Let me make this
right.”

Cara couldn’t look in his
eyes for long. She sensed his sympathy, and she didn’t want it. She
stared off at the wall. “No, please. You wouldn’t
understand.”