Page 17 of One Week To Claim It All
He frowned at whatever he saw in her face, and for a moment she thought he’d say something about last night. That he’d mention the dozens of kisses they’d shared before they said goodbye. But instead, he uttered a clipped “Yes,” and walked out.
The meeting was brutal and not for the reasons Esme had anticipated. Magdalena Polanco, their CFO, was great, and gave Esmeralda the rundown on all operating costs for the studio like she’d requested. Numbers people always intimidated her. Esmeralda’s forte was more the big picture, the overarching vision, and not so much the intricacies of how to make that all work. But Magdalena seemed easy to work with, and Esme thought it would be nice to have someone like that on her team. A strong Latina who had gotten to the top of her field by working hard. At any other time she would’ve loved to pick her brain for an hour, ask Magdalena about her career trajectory, but Rodrigo’s whole vibe was driving Esme nuts.
He’d barely acknowledged her during the meeting. And whenever she directed a question at him, he either answered with a monosyllable or he politely deferred to Magdalena. It was irritating as hell.
Was he going to ice her out for the next four days because she was trying to keep things professional? What the hell was his problem? They were grown adults who’d gotten a bit carried away after a stressful day—surelythey could be cordial. Granted, it would be so much easier if he didn’t look so damn good. He’d shaved this morning, but she could still feel every spot where his scruff had scraped the sensitive skin of her thigh when he was...
“Miss Sambrano-Peña?”
Dammit, she’d done it again. “I’m sorry.” She tried to smile, but it would not quite take, so she just gave up. “What were you saying?”
“Just wondering if you had any other questions for me?”
She shook her head and resisted placing her palms on her flaming cheeks. “Nope. Thank you so much. I have everything I need for now. If I have a question I can give you a call, right?”
Magdalena gave her a warm smile as she stuffed papers back into her binder. “Absolutely. You have all my contact information and Rodrigo knows how to find me if it’s something urgent.” The older woman smiled affectionately at the object of Esmeralda’s fevered musings.
“Tell Guille I’ll call him this week. We said we’d go shoot some hoops.” Magdalena beamed at Rodrigo.
“My youngest son was a teammate of Rodrigo’s in college.” Magdalena informed Esmeralda. “He’s the one who recommended me for this job, you know?” Esme wondered if Magdalena was letting her know that as a way to tell her whose side she was on. But the way she looked at Rodrigo told her that wasn’t it at all. She just genuinely liked him.
As much as Esmeralda wanted to act like a jerk right now, she only smiled. “He made a smart move then, I can tell you’re great at your job.”
“He’s fought for a lot people in his time here,” she told Esme, before walking out of the office.
“You certainly have a lot of admirers amongst the corporate team.”
Rodrigo lifted his gaze from whatever he was doing on his phone and stared at her for so long she wondered if he’d heard her. Irrational possessiveness was truly not her friend. And yet here she was, acting like he was her man, never mind that Magdalena had to be pushing seventy.
“You’re jealous of Magdalena now? She has grandkids your age.”
“Jealous? Please, you’re so conceited.” Now she sounded like a brat. His mouth twitched, but before it could turn into a smile he bit his bottom lip, and God, she wanted to lean over and suck on it. To sit astride his lap and kiss him senseless.
“Yousoundjealous, Esmeralda. I thought I was the enemy.” Okay, so hehadheard her.
She lifted a shoulder, trying very hard to feign an indifference she was not at all feeling. “You kind of are. We’re at odds right now and it would do us both good not to forget that.”
He arched an eyebrow at her words, and he looked so composed and controlled in that moment. Every hair in its place. His bespoke suit a perfect fit. He looked every inch the CEO. He looked like the man who should be sitting in this office. And that insidious insecurity flooded her. She wanted to lead this company. To prove—to the board, to her father’s widow, to her siblings—that her father’s wishes hadn’t been born out of misguided guilt, but because she was the right person to run the studio.
But she wondered if she really had what it took to take the job from Rodrigo.
As she digested this fresh dose of conflicting feelings his phone buzzed, and after looking at it he stood purposefully, then waved a hand toward the door. “Go to your office and grab what you need for the rest of the day. We’re going somewhere.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, irritated at his attempt to order her around.
As usual he didn’t give her anything. He just walked over to his desk and picked up a leather messenger bag. “I want you to see something.”
She was annoyed at how vague he was being and a little hurt he hadn’t brought up the night before. But she wasn’t going to be a hypocrite and get mad. She had no intention of mentioning it, either.
She tried her best to give him a sincere smile when she glanced up at him. “Aren’t you going to at least give me a hint? You know I hate surprises.”
He stepped up to her, close enough that she could feel the heat of his body. He bent down so that his lips were almost grazing her ears. “You’re just going to have to trust me, Joya.”
Damn the man for being so infuriatingly enticing, and for the husky laugh he let out as she stood there shivering. She should’ve told him to cut it out. To stop playing games with her. But when she looked closely, she saw that he was far from unbothered. His shoulders were tense, and his eyes wary. He was holding himself as if he expected her to say she could never trust him—but that would be a lie. She thought of his easy friendship with Jimena, and Magdalena’s clear affection and respect for him as evidence of the way that he carried himself personallyandprofessionally. Yeah, despite everything, she still trusted Rodrigo Almanzar. And there was a simple reason for that: her mother was right; hewasa good man.
Twelve
“The Grand Palace? Is it even open at noon on a weekday?” Rodrigo had to bite the inside of his cheek at Esmeralda’s question. She’d been peppering him with them the entire thirty-minute drive uptown. She’d never liked being kept in the dark and it probably made him a jerk that he was enjoying seeing her practically vibrate from curiosity.
