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“One thing you probably know about me by now is that a lot doesn’t get past me,” the old man continued, and Cruz could picture Dick sitting in his massive office in a pinstripe suit and cowboy boots propped up on the desk. Like he’d seen too many Dallas episodes—new and old—and considered himself a regular old J.R. Ewing. He just needed a ten-gallon hat to finish the picture. “I like to keep my finger on the pulse of everything and everyone that could impact me and mine. Family, that is. And I know for a fact that you’re en route to a family event somewhere south of the Rio Grande. With my son’s fiancée, I hear.”
Shit. How the hell did he know already? In the back of Cruz’s mind he’d hoped that eventually his acquaintance and partnership of sorts with Payton would reach the old man’s ear in a positive way, confirming that Cruz was a man to be trusted. But to hear old Dick Eastman already knew was a little…disconcerting.
Then there was the fact that, according to Payton, the engagement was off. He didn’t think it was his place to share the news with the man now. He’d hear about it soon enough.
He cleared his throat, wishing he had a bottle of water from the car with him to wet his parched throat. “Yes, sir. Payton Vaughn and I happened to be on the same flight that—”
“Frankly, I don’t care a pirate’s fart about the hows and whys of why you’re together and you want to know why? Because I know you’re not an impetuous man, Cruz. You weigh the risks and rewards in just about everything you do. And diddling your most important client’s future daughter-in-law would not only be imprudent, it’d be downright suicidal to this partnership.”
Diddling? The old man certainly had a way with words. Not that there was any worry there. Payton Vaughn had as much interest in him as she did the guy who’d filled their gas tank earlier.
“No, what I want to discuss with you is a little different,” Dick Eastman continued. “I’m betting that at some point during this road adventure Payton has shared something of the drama going on between her and my son. She’s a beautiful girl and just as expressive. I don’t see how she couldn’t be. But I assure you; it’s simply a lover’s quarrel that will be put to rest as soon as they can clear the air. My son may be foolhardy, but he’s not a complete idiot.”
More silence and Cruz had to admit, he was still unsure where this conversation was going. So he agreed with the old man. “Right. Of course, I’m sure that’s all it is.”
“See? I knew you would understand.” He did? “I know from her mother that the gal feels that she has to cancel the wedding to save face under the circumstances.”
Ah, Payton’s mother. That’s probably how Dick Eastman knew about their current predicament. He hoped.
“But I know you can make her see the idiocy of that plan. She and Brad are going to be married in a couple months and eventually, they’ll be giving me several grandkids that I can pass everything on to. The Vaughns are a respectable family, and I couldn’t ask for a better match. We already think of her as a daughter.”
Hell, put like that, Payton’s estimation that the man saw her more as a brood mare than a member of the family, was looking even more spot on. Chosen for her pedigree, her bloodlines. “I don’t think I understand what you are asking of me, sir.”
He turned back to the car, where Payton was mouthing the words to some song she must have found on the radio. When she saw him staring at her, she tilted her head. Then crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him. His lips twisted in a smile despite himself and the nature of the conversation going on at that moment.
“I need you to make sure she doesn’t do anything too…impetuous. Crazy. Dear girl she is she just might run off with some Mexican field worker to prove a point.”
He spewed the last as if a Mexican field worker was worse than a psychotic murderer. Forgetting that Cruz and his family—on his mom’s side—were Mexican. Not that it surprised him, but it rankled.
“Not that we couldn’t extricate her from such an unsavory predicament, but you can see how avoiding the whole thing would be best. Can I trust you to watch out for the girl? Maybe even get her to see reason and realize that Brad’s the only man for her. I think I can say with absolute certainty that you do this little favor for me and this contract is as good as signed and notarized come Monday morning. What do you say?”
Payton had her thumbs stuck in her ears now, her fingers waving at him like she was three years old. Trying to throw him off his game he’d bet. Completely oblivious that she was the topic of the conversation at this point.
It grated on him to even have to agree to anything under these circumstances. But ultimately, he realized that he was already taking care of her and making sure she reached their destination safely—as he’d promised his brother and Kate. He’d just continue to do what he was doing.
If Dick Eastman thought it was as some favor to him, then so be it.
“Yes. Of course. I’ll see that Payton makes it to the wedding and is safely boarded on a flight home come Monday morning. With no extra…complications.”
The gurgling of Payton’s stomach just after noon became too persistent to ignore any longer. Since Cruz’s business call nearly an hour ago, he’d been quiet.
Well, quiet was something characteristic of Cruz. It was more of a quiet brooding.
She hadn’t dared utter a peep, instead letting him take the wheel and buckling herself in the passenger seat until his mood improved. To kill time she’d started putting together a playlist, a task that had kept her busy up to now.
“I don’t know about you, but as delicious as the first four Kinder Bueno bars were,” she said, referring to the chocolate-covered, hazelnut-flavored sugary goodness candy bars she’d bought a full case of earlier, “I don’t think I can eat another one before I get actual food in my stomach. Any chance we might be able to stop for some lunch?”
Cruz pulled himself from the zombie zone he’d been in the past hour to glance her way. “You’re hungry?” He seemed to think about that for another few seconds. “Yeah. I guess I could stand to eat something not coated in chocolate. It may throw us off our schedule a bit.”
“I’m willing to risk it. Especially if there’s a clean restroom included in this plan.”
“We’re almost to Zacatecas. I know a place we can get some food.”
Half an hour later, Payton stared up in wonder from the car window at the beautiful architecture of a city that, up until today, she’d never heard of. The façade of many of the structures was actually…pink.
“It’s sandstone,” Cruz explained. “The pink? Most natives call the city ‘con rostro de cantera rosa y corazón de plata.’ It means ‘face of pink stone and heart of silver.’”
She’d be lying if the sound of the curling Rs under his tongue didn’t do something to her. She cleared her throat. “Silver?”
