What a Rich Woman Wants (3 page)

Chapter Three

Niko unlocked his front door and stepped inside. His gaze swept the space before him. A living room opened into a dining area and the kitchen beyond. Niko Morales, homeowner. In his wildest dreams he'd never thought he might one day have a place of his own. It wasn't much of a place, a fixer-upper he'd been lucky to snatch up from the foreclosure vultures six months ago.
Fixer-upper
was putting it kindly. The place was a dump. But the structure was solid and it had potential. That's what Niko told himself. Not that he'd had the money or the time to work much on it. Instead he settled for painting and patching and keeping it clean.

It was his and that's what he cared about. The aesthetics weren't important at the moment. He unbuckled his belt, removed his weapon and locked it in the gun safe he kept on the top shelf of the tiny closet near the front door.

He yanked off his uniform shirt and the tee underneath as he headed toward the bathroom, tossing them into the laundry basket. He turned on the shower before he shed the rest of his clothes. Stepping under the warm spray brought nothing but relief. His shift was over and he wasn't on duty again for two days. His stomach growled. He thought about going to Señor Tequilas for dinner. The beer was cheap, chips and salsa were free and the enchiladas were some of the best he'd ever had. He did a quick mental calculation about the state of his finances until payday and decided he could afford a meal out.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and went into the bedroom. His cell phone signaled an incoming call. Luckily for him, his place was small. He made it down the hallway to the phone before it went to voice mail.

“Morales.”

“Deputy Morales, it's Lesley Robinson.”

“Yes?”

“Am I catching you at a bad time?”

“No. It's fine.”

“I'd like to set up a meeting for you with the foundation's board. But there are a few things we should go over first. When can we meet?”

“How about now? Do you like Mexican food?”

“Oh, uh, yes, actually, I do, but—”

“You know Señor Tequilas on Collier Boulevard? Why don't you meet me there in half an hour?”

“I'm not…I don't…”

“You have other plans?”

“No.”

“I'm starving. You like Mexican food. You want to talk to me. So I'll see you there.”

Niko waited on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. He hadn't been raised to be a gentleman, but he'd learned to behave like one. When he'd escaped Jacksonville after Carlos's trial, he'd had one goal: to leave his past behind. To that end, he'd reinvented himself, become a law-abiding citizen instead of a hoodlum. The DA in Jacksonville had helped as much as he could, greasing the wheels to get Niko a job in the Waldon County jail, which eventually landed him a spot as a deputy. Niko had spent much of his free time filling in the gaps in his education. He'd spent hours at the public library, boning up on proper etiquette, learning how to dress appropriately, how to survive in the world he aspired to be part of.

Lesley drove into the parking lot in a white Lexus, parking decisively in the first open space she saw. She left the vehicle without checking her makeup in the rearview mirror or fussing with her hair. Niko had no idea why not doing those things should please him. Maybe it was her no-nonsense attitude. Or maybe she knew she was stunning and didn't need to reassure herself every five minutes.

She wore white slacks and a sleeveless red turtleneck. Her hair wasn't as tightly coiled as it had been the first time they'd met, but was clipped up and back, leaving that sweep of bang to fall across one side. She pushed her sunglasses up on her head as she approached.

He liked the way she looked. Like cool vanilla ice cream with a sweet cherry on top. Too bad she seemed insistent on keeping herself in the back of the freezer. Everything about her said, “Look, but don't you dare touch.” Idly Niko wondered what it would take to thaw her, even while he told himself there was no point in trying. His instinct told him she'd be worth the effort.

She gave him a small, polite smile. “Deputy Morales.”

“Miss Robinson.” He mimicked her tone and smile.

She laughed. She had a nice laugh. Throaty and genuine. “All right, you win, Niko. You can call me Lesley if you'd like.”

He grinned. “I'd like. Shall we?” He held the door for her.

No sooner had they stepped inside than a short, round, dark-haired woman bustled forward. “Ah, Niko, my bambino. Where have you been? I no see you for a week.” She pulled Niko into her embrace, rising on tiptoe to kiss him on both cheeks.

“It's good to see you, too, Alicia,” he told her when she stepped back. “This is my friend, Lesley. Lesley, this is Alicia Sanchez. She and her husband Estaban are the owners.”

“Nice to meet you,” Lesley said.

“Come, come. I have table for you outside, yes?”

“Is that okay?” Niko asked Lesley.

“Sure.”

Within minutes they were seated at one of the outside tables. A basket of warm tortilla chips and homemade salsa arrived along with cold bottles of Dos Equis. Niko tapped the neck of his beer bottle against Lesley's. “To beneficial partnerships.”

She raised an eyebrow and took a drink straight from the bottle.

“I gotta say I didn't figure you for a beer drinker,” said Niko. “The sangria's pretty good here. They're also known for their margaritas.”

“Beer with tortilla chips and salsa is one of life's true pleasures,” Lesley informed him. She loaded a chip and munched.

“Which you don't allow yourself to indulge in very often.” The restaurant wasn't too crowded. Niko staved off starvation by eating his own share of chips and salsa.

Lesley took a careful sip of beer. “Why do you say that?” As if to prove him wrong, she loaded another chip with salsa and popped it in her mouth.

“I'm guessing you're expected to be more of a champagne and foie gras kind of girl.”

He'd surprised her; he could tell by the flare in her eyes, the sharpness of her gaze, the few seconds of hesitation before she answered. “Yes, well, we all have to deal with expectations. The ones we have of ourselves and the ones others place upon us.”

“For example, you didn't expect a guy like me to know what foie gras was, let alone be able to pronounce it correctly.”

She gave him another of those small smiles acknowledging that he'd caught her. “I have a feeling, Niko, that there's a lot about you that might surprise me.”

He tapped the neck of his beer bottle against hers again. “Here's to a future filled with pleasant surprises.”

Chapter Four

Lesley placed the telephone receiver back in its cradle. Schools of animated fish swam across her computer screen. She massaged her shoulders with her fingertips, then rotated her head to work out the tension. The weekly conference call with the senior vice presidents, the CFO and a few department heads had drained her. Although she encouraged an open forum and a free exchange of ideas, the final decisions were hers alone. There were those within the company who resented her presence as her father's hand-picked successor. Under her leadership the company had flourished, yet she still had to deal with a handful of individuals from her father's tenure who believed they could do better.

The computer signaled an incoming email. She opened it and smiled. Her father listened in on the conference calls.
Good job
, she read.
You make me proud.
She sat back and allowed herself a moment to absorb the praise. Every day Richard sent her a brief, encouraging message like this. Sometimes two. He seemed to sense when she was most challenged or stressed, or was on the verge of second-guessing her decisions.

A tap on the door interrupted her attempt to reach even the slightest Zen-like state.

“Come in,” she called.

Lita slid into the room and closed the door. Lesley thought she saw apology mixed with annoyance and sympathy in her expression.

Lesley's shoulder muscles, which were barely relaxed, tensed up all over again. “What is it, Lita?”

“Maria.”

For a split second the connection escaped Lesley. She put her business face back on. “What about her?”

“She's here.”

“Here?”

Lita hesitated.

“
Here
?”

Lita nodded and inclined her head in the direction of the front entrance.

“What does she want?”

“She asked to see your father.”

Lesley's brow furrowed. As far as she knew, Maria's contact with Richard Robinson had been minimal. “Did she say why?”

“No, ma'am. When I told her he was unavailable, she asked to see you. When I told her you were on a conference call, she said she'd wait. I thought under the circumstances…” Lita's voice trailed away.

Lesley glanced at the digital clock on her desk. She'd hoped to have a bit of a breather between the conference call and Ricky's soccer game. She fully expected to be bored to tears, but Ricky asked so little of her and she gave so little of herself that she couldn't disappoint him.

She'd get rid of Maria quickly. “It's fine, Lita. Tell her I can give her five minutes.”

Lita left and returned, showing Maria in.

“Maria.” Lesley kept her tone neutral, merely acknowledging her visitor's presence.

As soon as the door closed behind Lita, Lesley gestured to one of the chairs in front of her desk. Maria sat, leaning over to place an oversize handbag on the floor. This was not the quiet, mousy servant that Lesley remembered. That Maria had been timid and demure, or so Lesley had always thought. But Maria had allowed Steven to seduce her and had enough gumption to beg Lesley to raise her child. So perhaps this version of Maria wasn't so far off the mark after all.

Maria straightened and regarded Lesley with a tentative smile. She'd pushed knock-off designer sunglasses up into her hair. Her bright top featured multicolored flowers and a pair of snug hot-pink capri pants hugged her curves. She also wore makeup, and her hair cascaded around her in a swath of thick, wavy curls. Her artificial nails were painted the same bright pink as her pants.

Had Maria always had such a ripe, curvy figure? Lesley remembered her as thin to the point of undernourished. But the woman sitting across from her had a Jennifer Lopez-like vitality that oozed from her pores.

Lesley waited. It was a tactic she'd learned from her father. The first to speak in any negotiation almost always lost. But why did she expect a potential negotiation with Maria? Maria had been shipped out of the country, as far as Lesley knew, over six years ago. Now she was back. She was here. That could only mean one thing. She wanted something.

Lesley hadn't greeted Maria as she normally would a guest, even an unexpected one. From the moment Lita had announced Maria's presence Lesley had gone on the defensive. Knowing she was being rude, Lesley drummed her fingers on the edge of her desk while she continued to take in details of Maria's appearance. Big hoop earrings. A cross on a chain around her neck. There was a shrewdness in Maria's eyes, a calculating hunger that either hadn't existed or had been well hidden when she worked for the family.

Lesley did a quick reassessment of the events Maria had been involved in then. Was it possible that Maria had been the aggressor in the relationship with Steven, as he'd claimed? That Maria wasn't as innocent as Lesley had believed? Had Maria had an agenda even then, believing she'd…what? Be given a permanent place in the household because Lesley's husband had fathered her child? Had she expected a much different outcome than the one she'd received? Was that why she wanted to see Lesley's father now?

Lesley couldn't hide her annoyance. She glanced again at the digital clock, mentally giving Maria one more minute of her time. If Maria didn't state her business, Lesley would show her the door.

“I want to see Mr. Robinson,” Maria said abruptly, as if she'd read Lesley's mind.

“That won't be possible.”

“Five minutes is all I ask.”

Intrigued, Lesley tilted her head to one side and studied Maria. “Why?”

“That is between him and me. Five minutes. Then I will know.”

“Know what?”

“Please.” Maria's gaze darted about the room. Perhaps she was remembering the last time she had asked Lesley for something. “Five minutes and then I go away. You not see me again.”

“As appealing as that is, Maria, it isn't possible for you to see my father. He's been ill for quite some time. Six years, in fact. He doesn't receive visitors.”

“He is here, no?”

“Where he is is absolutely none of your business. If you want to tell me what this is about, I may be able to communicate with him. Otherwise, I have another appointment.”

“I want to see Ricardo.” Maria's change in tactics didn't surprise Lesley. Of course this would have to do with Ricky. Why else would Maria be here? Perhaps she planned to petition Richard for some sort of intervention on her behalf. “No.”

“He's my son—”

“No. You begged me to take him. If he's anyone's son, he's mine.”

“I had no choice—”

“Of course you did. You had a choice before Ricky was born. You had a choice about sleeping with my husband, about sneaking around behind my back, about using birth control. You made your choices, Maria. We're all living with them.” Lesley stood. “I'll see you out.”

“No.” Maria made no move to rise. Lesley wondered what she'd have to do to get rid of this woman. She made a mental note to talk to Lita about the possibility of a guard of some sort. Except for Ricky and her father, they were a house full of women, unarmed against any physical threat. Although the property was gated, the gates weren't always kept closed during the day when deliveries and service people were expected. Maria had an easy time gaining access.

The very last thing Lesley wanted to do was call the cops or create an incident. She thought fleetingly of that deputy, Niko Morales. Maria's stubbornness would be no match for someone like him.

Lesley softened her tone, squelching her instinct to lash out, something she'd never had the chance to do before. “Maria, I understand you may have regrets. But you had an opportunity to claim Ricky, once he'd recovered from the surgery. He was still a baby. You were notified when I filed to formally adopt him. You gave up your rights to him. You signed the documents. I don't want you disrupting his life.”

“He's my son,” Maria insisted. “If I can't have him, I should get something else. I want to see Mr. Robinson.”

Here we go
. “What is it you think you should get, Maria? Why don't you tell me why you're here?”

“I will explain to Mr. Robinson. No one else.”

“We're done here.” Lesley moved to the door and opened it. Maria took her time about picking up her purse and rising from her seat. She sauntered toward Lesley.

“I will contact the newspaper. Tell them how you took my son away from me. That you arranged to have me sent back to El Salvador.”

“I did no such thing and you know it,” Lesley hissed. She stepped into Maria's personal space until she was nose to nose with her. Maria didn't flinch. “The newspaper won't publish a word of your story without proof and corroboration. You don't honestly think they'll approach someone in my position and who has the kind of influence I have in the community, do you?”

Lesley wanted to believe she could keep the local paper from publishing anything unflattering about her family. But the
Willow Bay Tribune
, like papers all over the country, was hurting financially, and a juicy story about a wealthy local family, even if unproven, would sell papers. Reporters used words like “allegedly” and “according to” all the time to avoid being sued.

Maria lifted one eyebrow as if Lesley had issued a personal challenge that shocked her. She smiled knowingly before moving out into the hallway as slowly as she possibly could.

Lesley wished she'd positioned herself in front of Maria instead of being forced to follow behind. At the point where the hallway opened into the entry, Maria quickened her steps. Lesley veered to the left to open the front door, but when she turned Maria was halfway up the stairs.

“Maria!” Lesley used her most commanding tone, but Maria neither slowed down nor looked back. Lesley hustled to the stairs after her. “Lita,” she called, hoping the housekeeper could hear her. “I need you.”

Maria was following the hallway to the master wing and had tried the door of what had once been her parents' bedroom suite. It was locked, as Lesley knew it would be. The suite had been taken over as her father's convalescent area. The twenty-four-hour nursing staff kept to a strict schedule to minimize interruptions to his routine. Thus the locked door.

Maria pounded on the door. “Mr. Robinson.” She said something in rapid-fire Spanish Lesley didn't quite catch. Maria stood her ground as Lesley approached with Lita not far behind.

While Lita spoke indignantly to Maria in Spanish, Lesley reassured the nurse on the other side of the door that the situation was under control.

After thirty seconds of listening to the two women argue, Lesley broke in. “Tell her she needs to leave right now or I'll call the cops.”

Maria turned to glare at Lesley. Lita didn't bother to translate. She pointed in the direction of the staircase. “
Vamanos
.”

Lita and Lesley stayed close behind Maria all the way to the foyer. “I don't want to see you again,” Lesley told Maria after Lita opened the door.

Maria gave another glare, this one mixed with something Lesley interpreted as pity, and uttered something that sounded like a curse under her breath. From her oversize handbag, Maria withdrew a piece of paper and shoved it at Lesley.

Lita closed the door behind Maria and locked it.

“Lock all the doors and make certain she's gone, then close the gate and keep it closed,” Lesley instructed her. “We aren't expecting anyone else today, are we?”

“No, ma'am.”

“Good. We'll have to do something about security.” Lesley gazed thoughtfully at the double set of heavy oak doors, then at the paper Maria had given her. “I have a feeling Maria will be back.”

One glance at the clock told Lesley she didn't have time to change. She was already late for Ricky's game. She cursed the traffic lights and road construction and slow drivers she had to endure on the way to his school.

Still rattled from Maria's visit, she could only think how she was letting Ricky down. Again. She'd felt like a fraud insisting to Maria that Ricky was her son, because deep down she knew she wasn't a mother to him. Ricky had been foisted on her. She hadn't wanted the responsibility. She hadn't wanted to lose her handsome husband or the life she'd fooled herself into believing she had. In one willful act on Maria's part, Lesley's life had changed forever.

She couldn't forgive Maria and she held it against Ricky, innocent though he was. She didn't like this aspect of herself. The older Ricky got, when his resemblance to Steven became even more apparent, the harder it was for Lesley to behave like the mother she was supposed to be. It wasn't Ricky's fault. Intellectually she knew that. Emotionally, she knew she wasn't dealing with it. Perhaps therapy would help. It wasn't the first time she'd considered it. She wouldn't go to anyone local, however. Willow Bay was much too small a town. She'd have to make arrangements elsewhere. Estero Springs or Sarasota, maybe.

Almost sick with apprehension, Lesley forced herself to breathe deeply, to relax her shoulders and neck. A headache had formed behind her eyes, and she wished for nothing more than to be alone, running on the beach, forgetting everyone and everything for just an hour or two.

She found a parking spot in the crowded lot and hustled across the pavement in her high heels. She was half an hour late. Her heels sank into the soft grass as she made her way toward the soccer field. Parents and children clustered along the sidelines. She nodded and smiled to a few she knew as she found a place among them to watch.

She stared at the players on the field and tried to spot Ricky. They were all young boys, many with dark hair and similar builds.
He's my son,
she thought.
I should recognize him immediately, be able to pick him out of a crowd in an instant.
That she couldn't saddened and frustrated her.

She found him finally, standing on the sideline on the other side of the field. He wasn't playing. He'd spotted her, of course, and knew she was late. She waved a hand in greeting and received a halfhearted wave in return. She'd let him down again. That's surely what he was thinking. For a moment she wondered if he wouldn't be better off with Maria. Maybe Maria would know how to mother him since she'd given birth to him.