Red Hot Christmas (41 page)

      Gathering an amount of self-control she didn’t even know she possessed, she broke the kiss, her breathing erratic. Pushing him away, she inhaled deeply, desperate for composure. “No.”
 

She smoothed her hands over her shirt and licked her lips. Reaching for her carry-on, she realized her fingers trembled.
Don’t back down.
“I can’t be around you, Alejandro. Even if we didn’t stand on different sides of this, I’d need more than a few fucks here and there.”

He closed his eyes, and she didn’t miss his throat, working hard, or the pulse in his neck, beating wildly. Was he going to change her mind? She held her breath for his reply.
 

“Is that all you think we have together?”

“What else do we have, Alejandro? You talk about protecting me, and you just had the chance to do it, and chose to protect your own interests.”

Her shoulders sagged. Even though her palms were slicked with cold sweat, she clenched the carry-on handle. Hard. What was she waiting for? Maybe she didn’t believe in happy endings, but damn it, if she couldn’t catch who killed Patty, the only thing she had left was honoring her friend and living a worthwhile life.
 

“You know that’s not true. I never meant to hurt you.”
 

“You already have” .A sad chuckle left her mouth. Bargaining couldn’t be a part of her life any longer. “Good-bye, Hot Shot.”
 

Chapter 13

      “Merry Christmas, Mr. Soto,” the doorman greeted as Alejandro crossed the lobby. “Thank you for the bonus.” His smile broadened.
 

      “Pleasure.” Alejandro nodded. He slipped out of the building, and fixed his leather gloves. A strong gust of wind knocked his face, but shit, he supposed he deserved it. Doormen from other buildings cleaned the remaining snow from the entrances, and people walked quickly by.
 

      For the first time, he would be alone at Christmas. His mother had called, but he’d ignored her. He’d been the one calling Sydney’s cell phone, but she remained silent. A text message would have been nice. What if something happened to her? His heart skipped a beat. Amongst all the losses he had experienced, somehow he imagined losing Sydney would be the one he would never recover from.
 

      Ever since the previous night he didn’t have any news. Now, he would go over to her old apartment, to make sure she was okay. She didn’t have to look at his face if she didn’t want to; but he needed to know—

      His cell phone buzzed in his coat, and his heart raced. He pulled it from his inside pocket. Madre. Disappointment poured over him, and he released a sigh. Ignoring her was tempting, but maybe she was as worried about him as he was about Sydney. It was Christmas. Shouldn’t he give her some peace of mind? Since he couldn’t give her much more than that, well, he took the call.
 

      “Yes.”
 

“Alejandro. Oh, finally you picked up,” Constanza breathed into the phone from the other side of the line. “
Hijo
, you can’t keep hiding from me.”

“I’m a man, Madre. Not a boy. I don’t need to hide from anything,” he said, slowing his pace against the flux of people coming from the opposite direction. Several pedestrians carried gift bags, and a large group had just walked out of the church. Probably from a Christmas service. “I just don’t care for lies any more.”
 

Silence.
 

“I promise you there won’t be any more of those.”

A snarky sound flew from his lips.
Sure.
 

“Is Sydney with you?” she asked.
 

His stomach tightened. He knew her leaving should have been about their argument over the case, but could he fool himself? Did he want to? “Nope. She left yesterday.”
 

“That’s too bad.”

“I assumed you didn’t like her.”

She chuckled. “Honey, I’m your mother. It’s my job to act like no one is good enough for you. Sydney though…she has spine,” she added, with a trace of admiration in her voice.
 

A bit too late for that, wasn’t it? “Well, spine or not…Sydney deserves a happy ending, and I don’t have any happiness in me to share.”
 

“And you tell me she was hiding and not you?”
 

He came to a halt. “I’m not. She’s the one who left. I am right here.”

“Men. They never figure things out. Listen, don’t let your shot at happiness slip between your fingers out of fear. Trust me, I’ve been there. Your uncle and I loved each other in secrecy for years. If we had been brave, we would have made it much easier for everyone. ”

“I highly doubt it,” he mumbled.
 

      “Maybe not at first. People get used to everything though.”

He snorted.
 

“What I’m trying to say is, don’t walk away from love because you think you can’t give her what she needs. She deserves the opportunity to make that decision for herself. Just look at Evandro; he never took a stand because he thought I would be better off married to your father. It took us decades to finally be together and not care about anything else. Do you want to be happy now or later?”

      
Or never?
“What do you mean, get together? Are you and Evandro…?”

      “We love each other. No more lies, remember?”
 

      He swallowed hard. Picturing his mom and his uncle together had been sickening at first, but shit, they were adults and what could he do about it? The only relationship he could salvage was the one he withdrew from.
“Madre, I’ll talk to you soon. Have to go. Merry Christmas.”
 

      Waving a taxi, he realized he should bring her something. That is, if she would still have him. When the yellow car finally stopped in front of him, he got in and said, “Take me somewhere where I can buy a picture frame. Fast.”
 

***

Alejandro knocked on her door for the sixth time. He had heard a rustle inside a couple minutes before, so damn it, she had to be there. Besides, a waft of her spicy perfume swirled around him, which meant she had walked through that hallway recently.

“Sydney, open the door. I’m not going anywhere,” he said.
 

He glanced around him, and saw no one else in the poorly lit area. Even though it was bright outside, despite the snow, there was barely any light skipping past the windows covered in dust. A couple apartments had wreaths hanging on the doors, but that was about it. Sydney deserved better, and he was anxious to give it to her—if he didn’t know how, hell, she was the one to teach him.
 

“I will camp here, and start shouting until one of your neighbors calls the police,” he blurted the empty threat. “Or, until you open the door and I can give you your Christmas gift.”
 

Silence.
 

A click.
 

His heart raced, and he clenched the small package in his hand.
 

She opened the door halfway, and leaned against the frame so he couldn’t come in. Her ruby hair was disheveled, and her eyes dark. There was a single spark in them, almost getting lost against the intensity of her irises.
 

“I’m sorry. We need to talk.”

“Alejandro, I opened the door so you wouldn’t make a big scene. Please go away,” she said, enunciating every word.
 

“No.” He pushed a foot between hers. “Sydney, I apologize about our fight. Deep down I thought I didn’t have anything to offer you. It feels like that sometimes, but I realized you’ve made it different for me. And running from it was easier than facing it.”
 

Tears brimmed her eyes. “I…I…,” she started, her lips trembling.
 

She motioned to shut the door on him, but he wouldn’t have it. Not when he was that close to finally opening up to someone. He thought he loved Carla when they were together. Wrong. He had loved the idea of being with her, of experimenting with commitment.
 

With Sydney it was different. She had torn down his walls without any planning—and he hoped he had done the same. Determined, and with his pulse beating like hell, he outsmarted her and yanked open the door.
 

“Easy,” said a third voice. “Close the door behind you and put your hands up.”

He followed the raspy voice and found a pudgy woman in her fifties, almost his height and with short, curly hair. His blood went cold when he realized she held a gun to Sydney’s head. And if possible, it chilled even more when he recognized the woman. Meryl, Frank Lewis’ assistant. He had met her a couple times, and never in a million years—

“Alejandro, I’m sorry,” Sydney said.
 

He sent her a look of reassurance, and glanced around the room, desperate to try to find a way to take down that woman.
 

“If you try anything funny, she dies,” Meryl said, anticipating his move. “Get those handcuffs and put them on.” She pointed at a black blanket on the floor, where handcuffs lay stacked against thick ropes.
 

Meryl pulled Sydney closer. The tip of the gun disappeared into her soft neck, and he had to fight his instinct to struck Meryl. Jeopardizing Sydney’s life was not an option.
Stay calm and figure it out.
“Not one dirty trick, Mr. Soto, or your girl dies. Do you understand me?” she asked firmly.

“Yes.” He clenched and unclenched his fists. Amparo had died because of his lack of vision. Sydney couldn’t suffer the same. She had been through enough as it was, and deserved a life filled with success, happiness, and laughter. And he’d be dammed if he kept her from it. “Why did you kill Frank?” he asked, putting the pieces together in his head. The memory of her crying like a maniac on the phone flashed through his mind. Hadn’t Joe mentioned he had met with her?

“Twenty years I worked for that son of a bitch.” She snorted. “I did everything for him; I gave him my best years, thinking he would finally see what was right in front of him. The wonderful team we could make, in every way. The bastard was blackmailing some people and cashing it all in. I never saw a penny, but kept hoping if I stood by him, if I gave him my unconditional loyalty—”

Meryl hesitated, and narrowed her eyes; her lips thinning into a hard line. “Then, he married that bimbo twenty years younger than him. Dared to adopt her two bastard sons.”
 

He kneeled down and picked up the handcuffs. The gun she pointed at Sydney trembled, and he imagined the woman was infuriated talking about the subject. Infuriated, and he hoped, distracted. “Did he cheat on you?”

“Worse. He betrayed me in all kinds of ways. We were together before he met his wife. He dropped me like a hot potato when that skank showed up. When he came to talk to me about a severance package, I knew he was the one who had to go. One way or another.”
 

“Why didn’t you just…leave?”
 

“Don’t you get it? I worked for him my entire life. I was so beside myself, gained one hundred pounds after he kicked me to the curb. He then started lying to me, saying he wasn’t blackmailing anymore. When I found out he was meeting your uncle, I got pissed. I connected the dots and realized he had lied to me, yet again. I was the one who clued him on the truth about your biological father. We were going to do this one together, blackmail, the works, and I was going to get a cut. But what does he do? Uses the information to his advantage. Uses me. You don’t fuck with my money. Especially not so Plastic Barbie can get another boob job,” she said, anger dripping from her voice. Meryl hesitated, and wiped the sweat off her forehead. Then, shaking her head as if she willed away a bad memory, she said, “Turn around so I can see you putting those on.”
 

He followed her orders, and when he turned back, Meryl nodded. Sydney was still in her power, although the way she upped her eyebrow led him to believe she had something up her sleeve. After all, Sydney Bell was no shrinking violet. She would find a way out.
 

“This should never have happened. You two are going to die, so you might as well know it.” An expression of frustration crossed Meryl’s face, her wrinkles tightening against one another, chin jutting out. “I’ll never forget his face when he saw the gun. I guess deep down he thought I wouldn’t go through with it. A day before, I had threatened to tell you about him blackmailing your uncle…or your father…whatever. I had told him I would expose your secret, and by doing that, squash his reputation as a biographer. He would never work again.
 

“I made it seem like a robbery afterward, even snatched his precious watch. I have cousins who have been to jail; one of them paid Sydney a little visit. That wasn’t rocket science.” Meryl cleared her throat. “Now I want you to sit on that chair and get the ropes and wrap them around your ankles, then hands. Tightly. I will check it afterward.”
 

He licked his dry lips, and peered at Sydney. She gave him a slight nod, her head barely shifting. His stomach clenched as if he had been punched by a MMA fighter. Or two. The idea of letting himself be restrained wasn’t appealing, but he had no other option. He would outmaneuver Meryl when he had a chance. What he couldn’t do was put Sydney’s life at risk.