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Santos sat forward. “You’re still going home? Why? What do you have there that compares to what you have here?”
She had a ready answer. “Men who don’t risk their lives every weekend.”
“Our father died in his bed, or damn close to it, and so did Augustín.”
“Let’s not argue,” she stressed.
The attorney looked between them and hastened to regain control of the conversation. “Miss Aragon, we can set the quarterly meetings for a time you find convenient, perhaps during your holiday vacations. All your expenses will be paid by the trust.”
“Thank you, but I’m still a poor choice for an administrator’s job. Did my father suggest any alternates?”
The attorney drew in a deep breath. “No. His mother and sister lack any sort of financial sense. His other children are too young. Please consider this an honor.”
“Of course,” she replied, utterly overwhelmed. “I just wish he’d told me what he expected from me.”
“I’ll take care of everything, Magdalena,” Santos promised. “You won’t need to become a CPA.”
“Thank you.” She found a faint smile but felt more like weeping as Ana had. She couldn’t think of her father without seeing the guilt in his eyes. He hadn’t been horrified by her question but by his own answer.
Fox was seated facing the entrance to the café and saw Ana walk up to the counter. “There’s Ana. I’ll ask her to sit with us.” He sprang out of the booth, then caught himself and slowed his pace to walk toward her.
She looked over her shoulder, saw Rafael and returned with Fox. “I’m just taking coffee to go,” she murmured, “but I wanted to say good-bye to you both. Santos and I didn’t see each other for long, but I wish we hadn’t been fighting in front of you.” When she flopped her purse on the table, her spectacular diamond ring was impossible to miss.
Fox grabbed her hand. “Is this what Miguel left you?”
Ana pulled a tissue from her purse and blew her nose. “Yes. It’s beautiful, isn’t it? But it will make me far too sad to wear it. Maybe I’ll donate it for a charity auction.”
“No, you ought to keep it,” Rafael advised. “It suits you.”
“Really?” Ana turned her hand, and the diamond caught the light and sparkled even brighter. “I did love Miguel, but…”
Fox and Rafael listened, but she failed to continue. The waitress brought her coffee in a lidded take-out cup, and she added cream and sugar. “I should have asked for copies of your photos,” Rafael said.
“I gave Magdalena two copies of you two dancing, so there’s one for you. There’s an extra one of her with you, Fox, and another for Santos with her. There are also extra copies of you and Santos walking into the arena last Sunday.” She opened her purse for her car keys and withdrew a business card. “Call me if you ever need a photographer.”
Fox got up and walked her to the entrance and came back with a card of his own.
“Have you ever been in love?” he asked.
“Just once,” Rafael replied, and he ate the last bite of his chocolate cake.
Santos waited until they’d pulled up in front of the ranch to speak. “My leg’s too sore to fight this Sunday. There are men lined up to take my place, but I thought the crowd might rather see you, Rafael. Would you like to talk to my agent?”
Rafael set the brake, withdrew the keys from the ignition and turned to hand them to Santos. “If I take your place, I should receive what you would have been paid.” He neglected to glance to
ward Maggie for her opinion.
“No, if I’m giving the fights to you, we split 50-50,” Santos argued. “That’s more than you were paid last Sunday.”
“Yes, but not enough,” Rafael argued. “If I can take your place, then I’m worth what you’re worth.”
“Not even close, but maybe my leg will be better by Sunday.”
“No, it won’t,” Maggie argued, “and you know it. Don’t let Rafael goad you into fighting when you’re not fit to do so.”
“I’m not goading,” Rafael denied, but his lazy grin gave him away.
“I can’t listen to this.” Maggie left the men in the SUV with Fox. She sat down on the front porch and pulled her father’s letter from her purse. The flap was unsealed, and she opened it slowly and took a deep breath before unfolding the single sheet.
