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“Buenos días, Señorita Bradford.”
Everleigh whirled around to see Isabella Cabrera smiling at her.
“Oh, good morning.” Everleigh barely caught herself from bringing her hands up to her cheeks. Nothing like having the mother of the man she’d slept with catching her daydreaming about him.
Isabella held up a small paper bag. Sporting a green silk pantsuit and with her dark hair twisted into an elegant chignon, she looked as if she’d just stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine.
“I imagine my son is very busy, but I was in town and I wanted to surprise him.” She leaned in with a conspiring twinkle in her eyes. “He’s always had a sweet tooth. When he was little, I used to take him to a bakery off the Plaza Nueva and get himleche fritasfor breakfast.”
Everleigh smiled, imagining a dark-haired boy staring wide-eyed at the treats inside the bakery. Something tugged low in her stomach. What would Adrian be like as a father...?
“That sounds like a wonderful memory.”
A shadow passed over Isabella’s face. “It is.” She glanced down at the bag, her previous enthusiasm gone. “I... I was not a good mother for many years.”
“I have a hard time believing that.”
Isabella shook her head. “The child I had after Adrian—a little girl—died during delivery.”
Everleigh sucked in a breath. “Oh, Isabella... I’m so sorry.”
“The loss...it took a toll on me.” Isabella tapped a finger on her forehead. “Emotionally and mentally. It was a topic not discussed as openly as it is today. And then, when I got pregnant with Alejandro, I was so terrified I was going to lose him I sequestered myself in my room. Once he was born, I clung to him his entire first year.” A deep sigh escaped her lips. “By the time I clawed my way out Antonio had been born. Before I knew it years had passed, and I realized I had lost my first son.”
The older woman’s frank admission had stunned Everleigh into silence.
“I’m sorry,” Isabella said with a forced smile. “I should not have shared such personal details—”
“No,” Everleigh rushed to reassure her. “My father and I went through a difficult period after my mother died. It took us a while to repair our relationship.”
“I am glad you were able to. Unfortunately, Adrian and I have not had the success you and your father did.” She rubbed a spot on her temple. “Probably because I haven’t been able to bring myself to talk to him about it.”
“Why not try?”
“I need to. I’m trying to work up to it, to explain...” Isabella’s eyes fell to the floor, her voice becoming so soft Everleigh could barely hear her. “But after so many years, how could he possibly forgive me?”
The grief in Isabella’s words soaked into Everleigh’s bones. Not just grief for the lost years between mother and son, but for yet another reason as to why Adrian held himself back, kept his emotions at bay. She would, too, if she’d experienced the repeated pain he had.
“Buenos días.”
Everleigh and Isabella both turned to see him standing in the doorway of his office, his handsome face frozen into a granite mask.
“Buenos días, mi hijo.”Isabella recovered more quickly than Everleigh, and held out the bakery bag with a smile. “Leches fritaswith extra cinnamon. I was out shopping and wanted to surprise you.”
Adrian took the bag and pecked Isabella on the cheek, the gesture brief and almost businesslike.“Gracías.”
Isabella blinked, longing evident in the lines around her eyes. “Well... Have a good day.”
Adrian turned to Everleigh as Isabella disappeared down the hall, his face blank. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.” Everleigh nodded toward the bag. “That was very thoughtful.”
He shrugged. “I suppose.”
He turned and walked back into his office without another word, leaving the door open behind him. She took a tentative step inside. Should she say something about what Isabella had shared with her? No, she decided as she closed the door behind her. As much as she wanted to see a reconciliation between mother and son, it was Isabella’s choice.
She looked around the office. Last time she’d been so focused on him and their conversation that she hadn’t really noticed the environment Adrian ruled his empire from. The room mirrored the man. Black marble flooring, a cluster of sleek silver chairs around a coffee table and a desk in front of floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked Granada. The outer walls of the Alhambra stood tall and proud in the distance.
He gestured for her to take a seat. She knew if she had any sense at all, she’d maintain the same level of indifference Adrian was displaying and keep things professional.
