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Fox heard Ana’s voice and rushed into the living room wearing a happy grin. “Were you there yesterday?”
“Yes, I was seated not too far from you. Did you enjoy the bullfights?”
“It’s like watching car wrecks,” he replied. “I’ve had enough.”
“There are many people in Spain who agree with you and want to see them come to an end.”
Maggie stepped out of Santos’s way as he reached for the doorknob. “I haven’t the time to debate the issue now. Good-bye.”
As he swung the door closed, Ana peered through the narrowing gap. “I’ll see you on Wednesday, Fox.”
Santos jerked the door open. “And just where do you plan to see him?”
“At the funeral in Zaragoza. Thousands of your father’s fans will be there.”
“Good-bye.” Santos cursed under his breath, closed and locked the door. “She’s probably told a thousand of those fans herself.”
Fox looked down at the papers littering the floor. “May I help?”
“Shall we trust him?” Santos asked Maggie.
“Probably not,” she replied. “But there’s a lot to sort here.”
Fox took that as a yes and sat down closer to Santos than her. He didn’t speak Spanish and soon grew bored ordering papers by dates and went back to watch an English station on the kitchen television.
“I’m worried about him,” Maggie whispered.
“So am I. He and the twins are close, and they should be here this afternoon.”
“That worries me too,” she added.
“Our family is a twisted mess, except for you and me, but I doubt they’d form a ménage a trois.”
“I don’t. They’re not related, which he points out often. The girls are too sophisticated for their own good, so anything might happen between them.”
He shuffled the last of his section of the papers into place. “Let’s say you and I met and didn’t know we shared a father. Would I appeal to you?”
Ana had warned her he liked her more than a brother should, but he’d never led her to suspect it, unless she counted his immense dislike for Rafael. Still, she was better off with the truth when she could tell it. “Yes. You’re a handsome man and fun too.”
“Thank you, but I’m fond of blondes, and that would have saved us.”
Because the odds of them meeting as strangers were so slim, she kept a light-hearted tone. “I would have been crushed. Now this first page has Augustín’s concerns about remodeling the ranch house. I hope this isn’t all as dry.”
“There has to be a scandal in here somewhere.” Santos handed her another handful of papers and they kept sorting. He soon leaned back and sighed. “I’m trying to ignore my leg, but it hurts too badly for me to concentrate. I’m going to stretch out on the couch.” He yanked off his shoes before he lay down.
“Do you want some aspirin?”
“Thank you. It’s in the bathroom cabinet.”
Maggie got up to bring it. Santos’s home with as neat as Rafael’s, but he probably had a maid come in and clean. She brought him the bottle of aspirin and a glass of water.
“Did you have stitches?”
He sat up to swallow a couple of aspirin and set the glass on the coffee table. “No, they just bandaged it at the arena infirmary. I was supposed to have a physician look at it. But I got the call Father had been rushed to the hospital and forgot it.”
That didn’t sound good to her. “Did you change the bandage today or apply antibiotic cream?”
He rested his arm over his eyes. “No, but it’ll be fine in a day or two.”
