Page 93 of Thiago
“I still have contacts at Santana International,” India replied. “It’s a great idea.”
He nodded. “Profit-sharing is good for the company. It boosts morale and lowers turnover.”
“That’s not why you did it,” India said.
A statement, not a question. She had come to realize Thiago enjoyed the role of gruff overlord, but his complex personality included a softer edge beneath the steel, which most people never saw. He often spoke about numbers and efficiency, and though he could be harsh at times, he was also quietly generous, exhibiting pragmatic compassion when it was least expected.
“No, that is not why I did it,” he admitted quietly.
India cleared her throat and stood. She picked up her dishes and came around the table to collect his.
“Thank you,” he said.
“You’re welcome.”
She took the plates and glasses into the kitchen, using the time to shore up her defenses for the conversation ahead. Having Thiago there felt good but was extremely difficult. She had missed him and wanted to touch him—anywhere. She longed to run her fingers through his soft hair or stroke his beard as he held her in his arms.
Taking a fortifying breath, she pushed away from the sink and left the kitchen.
Thiago was standing at her desk in the living room. “You’re drawing again,” he said, holding up two sheets of paper. One contained a raven on a tree branch, and the other was a halfway completed image of a hummingbird.
“Yes. I took your advice and went to see my father.”
He carefully returned the pictures to the desk and gave her his undivided attention. “What happened?”
“We got along. Turns out, he didn’t forget about me. As I grew older, he became embarrassed about his financial situation. He believed I was better off without him since he hadn’t contributed much to my life—his words—but he wasalways proud of me. He just didn’t see where he fit into my world. Of course, I made sure he understood I love him, he’s my father, and he willalwaysfit into my world. Oh, and the reason he didn’t recognize me at the gas station is because he can barely see.” She laughed, shaking her head. “He wears bifocals and didn’t recognize me without his glasses.”
“I’m glad you found out because I was angry at the man for no reason. Has he seen your work?”
“Yes, and he acted like a proud papa. He sketches, like I do, and he also paints. I told him I would work on a marketing plan for him to see if we can generate publicity and get him some sales.”
“If anyone can help him, it’s you,” Thiago said.
“Thanks.” India smiled faintly. “You said you wanted to talk?”
“Yes.” He paused. “I don’t know where to begin.”
“Try the beginning.”
“The beginning…” Thiago rubbed his hand across his jawline. “Okay. Did you accept the job in Miami?”
“Yes.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “I don’t want you to leave, India. I want you to stay here and continue working for Santana International. Stay here with me.”
“We’re past that point, don’t you think?”
“I will match whatever they offer you in salary, benefits, and bonuses.”
India laughed, but it was a hollow, empty sound. “You weren’t saying this two weeks ago.”
“Because I was a fool. I was angry you were trying to leave me, and when I found out you had a job offer, I felt betrayed.”
“Can you understand why I called the headhunter? You threatened my career. My livelihood.”
His face filled with shame. “I know. It was a shitty thing to do, and I’m sorry. I hurt you and scared you, and I hate myself for it. I used my power in a way I shouldn’t have, and it was unforgivable. I know that.” His voice roughened. “But despite what I said, I never intended to follow through on my threat. Your job was never in danger. I swear to you.”
“There was no way for me to know, Thiago.”
