Page 3 of One Week To Claim It All
Rodrigo stopped to take a breath, surprised by the wave of emotion tightening his chest. “Patricio was like a father to me...” He ignored what sounded like a scoff coming from the direction where Carmelina was sitting and focused on the people in the room that, like him, were concerned with not seeing a lifetime of work be flushed down the drain. “And he has left enormous shoes to fill. I couldn’t be prouder to officially take the helm of Sambrano and hope that together we can create a future for the studio that he would be proud of.”
His pulse quickened as the words he’d just uttered sank in. This was really happening. Sixteen years of working tirelessly, of sacrificing his personal life for this company, was paying off with what had always been his goal: being president and CEO of Sambrano Studios. He might not have the last name, but he’d given everything to this company, and now he would be the one to take it into the future.
Some of the people in this room—hell, people all over the industry—loved to whisper about “the forbidding” next-in-line at Sambrano. Joked that Patricio had Rodrigo’s emotions surgically removed before giving him the chief content officer position. But Rodrigo let that slide right off his Brioni-clad shoulders. They talked because he’d persevered, had triumphed when so many others failed. He’d been the youngest CCO in the industry eight years ago when he got the position, and when he took over as interim CEO—after Patricio’s illness had forced him to step down a year ago—he’d become one of the highest-paid Latinos in all of entertainment. He was a millionaire dozens of times over in his own right, and now was head of a billion-dollar company.
They hated him because they wanted to be where he was. And he would not apologize for how he’d gotten here.
“Sambrano has always been unique in the business and my plan is to continue that tradition,” he continued, and was pleased to hear sounds of approval from some in the room. Others remained silent. Then again this was a contentious line of conversation. The topic of what direction Sambrano would take in the next decade had been hotly contested. Some wanted to keep things as they were and others wanted to think more innovatively, to be more competitive in this new era of streaming and global programming. One more challenge he’d had to tackle immediately.
The voices around the room were interrupted when the door to the boardroom suddenly burst open. The entrance was off to the right, beyond Rodrigo’s range of vision, but the varying looks of shock from those facing the door gave him an inkling of who it was before he turned around.
“Sorry I’m late. The trains uptown were a mess today.” The various surprised gasps, and in Carmelina’s case, something very close to a roar, went a long way to confirm the newcomer’s identity. Ten years was not such a long time that he wouldn’t remember the voice of the person who had meant the most to him at one time in his life. The only person that elicited regret in him. The self-confidence was new, but he’d recognize Esmeralda’s raspy tone anywhere. He’d always thought she sounded like she was hoarse from laughing too hard or singing too loud. She didn’t sound like she was laughing now.
By the time he turned, she was already in front of him. This was not the twenty-one-year-old girl he’d last seen the summer Patricio broke his daughter’s heart—and him, too; Rodrigo had broken her heart, too. She’d been beautiful back then. Always too beautiful for him to resist. With her lavish curls that fell around her shoulders in a palette of brown and gold, and that flawless skin, like Dominican mahogany. But her eyes had always been his perdition, those big hazel orbs that always saw a little too much. He’d made mistakes with this woman that would haunt him for the rest of his life. Too many to rehash right now, especially when her arrival was about to wreak havoc on his carefully laid plans.
This was not the unsure, sensitive girl he fell for all those years ago. The one who had looked at him like he was the man of her dreams. The one whose soft body he’d lost himself in again and again. The woman standing here exuded confidence and at the moment was staring at him with open hostility. This Esmeralda was self-possessed, and she knew exactly the effect she was having on him.
“Rodrigo.”
He’d never known one word could carry with it so much disdain, and that was a good reminder he had to snap out of it and get his head in the game. He had a history with Esmeralda Sambrano-Peña, but he could not let that cloud his judgment. He’d once let his feelings for her almost ruin his career, and he would not make the same mistake again. No matter how much her presence rattled him. He should have expected this. Seeing her had been a possibility hanging over his head since nearly a year ago, when the executor of Patricio’s will gathered them all in this same room and dropped the bomb of the century on them.
And yet, his reaction to her still caught him by surprise. Every instinct he had incited him to get closer. But as he took her in, the defiant eyes, the determined set of her mouth, he at least saw things clearly. He could not underestimate this woman, not if he wanted to keep those three letters attached to his name.
“Started without me, I see,” she said, trying to provoke him. Sarcasm dripped from her every word. Her full mouth set in a hard line. Her eyes, which in the past had looked at him with such adoration, now cool and distant. As if she could see right through him. She’d come dressed to kill today. Her black suit fit her like a glove, and even now, when he suspected her arrival was about to upend everything, he could not help but notice the luscious curves of her body.
In the past ten years Rodrigo had told himself a million times he could handle her disdain. That he’d made the right decision in letting her go. That if she hated him for it, it had been worth it, for both their sakes. But now, after just a mere moment of having her back in his space, he knew he’d been lying to himself all along. The truth was that he had a weakness for Esmeralda. And men like him could not afford to be ruled by their vulnerabilities. His father had been like that, unable to keep himself in check, undisciplined, and it had cost their family everything. Rodrigo had promised himself years ago he would never follow in those footsteps. Rodrigo did not allow his passions to rule his head, even if it meant appearing ruthless to the one person in the world he never wanted to hurt. He’d done it once before. It had almost killed him, but he’d survived, and now he’d do it again if that was what it took.
“I never took you for one for theatrics, Esmeralda.” He sounded like an absolute bastard, but it had to be done. This was not a game, and if Esme wanted this position, he would treat her like he would any competitor.
Her head snapped in his direction at the sound of his voice, and when her gaze landed on him again her expression went from cold to mutinous. Esmeralda had not let bygones be bygones, it seemed. All the better to keep himself in check. And if his stomach lurched and his blood rushed between his temples with a roar, well, that was just frustration at having his plans disrupted. Nothing more.
Rodrigo had learned the hard way not to let emotions creep into his professional life. And that was what this was for him, his job, not some family drama. Carmelina and her children, even Esmeralda, could throw tantrums now, but Rodrigo could not afford outbursts. And he certainly could not spend another second fixating on Esmeralda’s mobile, generous mouth and all the ways he knew she could use it to undo him.
She waved a hand at him and turned to the seat he’d just emptied. “So testy, Rodrigo.” She clicked her tongue, as derision dripped from every word out of her mouth. “You’re all in your feelings because I came to ruin your coronation? I guess it didn’t occur to anyone that I might actually be up for taking this job.” Her tone could melt the paint off the walls, but he would not take that bait.
“That’s okay,” she goaded, turning to Carmelina Sambrano, who was practically vibrating in her seat at the far end of the table. “I’m happy to fill everyone in, as soon as I officially assume my position as president and CEO.” With that she went to the head of the table, the very seat Rodrigo had been about to occupy, and sat down.
“Are you people going to let this travesty happen?” The widow’s cry of unbridled outrage reminded Rodrigo there were other people in the room. And he’d had just about enough of the Sambranos and their need to turneverythinginto a telenovela. He stepped up to Esme, determined to get this farce under control. He’d had to put up with this for sixteen years. The Sambranos and their chaos. Their backbiting and their drama. As if this was all about them, like there weren’t thousands of workers depending on the people in this room for their livelihoods. He had no idea what game Esmeralda was playing at, but he was not putting up with any of this.
“Esmeralda, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
For a second her mask slipped. For a moment shorter than the blink of an eye he saw that the way he spoke to her surprised her. And he almost hesitated, ensnared by the urge to soothe her. To fix this for Esmeralda. But he reminded himself that was not his job. “You have to know this isn’t appropriate,” he ground out, forcing himself to keep an even tone. “That there are timelines. There areprocedures. You don’t understand—”
“No,” she said, curtly lifting herself from the seat she’d just commandeered. “Youdon’t understand.” She was standing so close he could see a tiny bead of perspiration gather between her breasts, and he hated himself for the throb of lust that coursed through him. “I’m taking my position as president and CEO of Sambrano and if that affects your or anyone else’s plans...” That she directed at her half-siblings, who were still sitting, mouths gaping. “That’s your problem,not mine. Now, where in the agenda were we?” With that she placidly sat down, leaving him there like a six-foot-two-inch-tall office ornament.
That arrogance, it should’ve incensed him. But, dammit, instead a wave of raw need almost made him stumble. His hands itched to touch her, to take that mouth and find out if it still tasted as sweet as he remembered. But he smothered that urge down to ashes. This was what he excelled at, after all. Locking down and repressing every emotion. In the last days of her illness, his mother told him he’d lost himself to this job, that she didn’t recognize the man he’d become. And it would’ve hurt if it wasn’t the truth, but Rodrigo long ago had understood that denying reality was harder work than just learning to live with it.
“I don’t plan to lose this game, Esmeralda. I’m sure you’ve learned a lot about the industry scouting film locations.” The loathing in her eyes would have made a lesser man cower, but Rodrigo thrived in moments like this. “There’s a very long distance between thinking you know how to do something and actually doing it, andIknoweverythingabout this company.”
He saw the moment that self-doubt crept in, when his words started edging out the confidence she’d walked in with. But like he’d told himself over and over again, that was not his problem. He’d been preparing for this moment his whole professional life and he would be damned if he let it slip away now. No matter how much Esmeralda Sambrano-Peña got under his skin.
Three
Keep it together, Esmeralda. You can handle this.
That was the mantra that had been going through her head since the moment she stepped through Sambrano Studios’ front doors. She’d known what would happen in the boardroom would be intimidating. She’d even expected it to be outright confrontational. But what she hadn’t expected was how unsettling it would be to be in this building and not have Rodrigo on her side. In the rare occasions over the years when Esme had been forced to come see her father, Rodrigo had always made a point of being there for her.
Arturo, Rodrigo’s father, had been a good friend of Esme’s mother. No, Arturo had been more than a friend—he’d stood up for Ivelisse when Carmelina made up lies about her. When Carmelina tried to push Esme out of the picture, Arturo had been her champion. And when Arturo was gone, Rodrigo took on that role. For years he was her only channel of communication to Patricio Sambrano. He’d been her rock for a long time, and then he’d been her lover. Her first everything, and he’d thrown it all away, out of his misguided loyalty to her father.
