Page 4 of One Week To Claim It All
She breathed through pain that cut off the air in her lungs as she considered him. She hated that his betrayal still hurt her. And she despised that even after everything that happened between them she still wanted him. She didn’t attempt to hide that she was looking at him. More than looking, she was inspecting him from head to toe. He was still heart-stoppingly handsome with that bronzed skin that seemed almost lit from within. The rough, coarse curls that he kept austerely short, and placated with exacting care. His full, generous lips were in a terse, unhappy line, and she wanted more than anything to press her mouth to them. Dark eyes to match his mood, and still she could see there was more than anger in those chocolate-brown depths, glints of desire that he couldn’t hide from her. But she tamped that thought down mercilessly and focused on Rodrigo’s not-so-charming attributes. Like his fastidiousness about his appearance. She could almost bet the suit he was wearing had been reserved for this day months in advance.
To all the world Rodrigo Almanzar was the unfeeling, ambitious television wunderkind. But she knew that behind all that stoic demeanor the man she’d loved was a little vain about that tall, imposing body. And she couldn’t deny that he’d worked very hard for it. He’d been a point guard in high school and college. Esmeralda had gone to see him play with her mother, who had been his mom’s best friend. She’d loved him then, too, but it was a different kind of love. She’d looked up to him, admired how he’d been able to balance working and going to school. That he supported his mother when Arturo gambled away everything they had. And after, when she was in college and he was fresh out of grad school and working full-time for her dad, it had turned into something different. But that happiness had been fleeting and in the end he’d broken her heart.
And that was the one thing she could not forget today—how ruthless Rodrigo could be. How on the day she’d learned her father had evicted her mother from the apartment Esme had lived in all her life, instead of helping, Rodrigo told her he could not afford distractions, and she—their relationship—was a distraction. And that was why she would never forgive him.
She opened her mouth to let him know in no uncertain terms she would not falter in taking this job from him—that she’d also learned to be merciless—when someone called her name from the other side of the room.
“Esmeralda. Turn around and look at me.” She hadn’t seen or heard from Carmelina Sambrano in a very long time, but the woman’s voice was not one she’d ever forget. Esmeralda took a moment as she fought to keep the mask of impassive disdain she’d been wearing from slipping off. To keep from letting Carmelina’s words get to her. She knew the woman was vicious and would not hesitate to humiliate her. The bastard child Carmelina had tried to erase from Patricio’s life for almost thirty years was now here threatening everything she held dear. But Carmelina could rage at her, call her names and make a scene. It would not change the contents of Patricio’s will.
“I’m happy to turn around,” Esmeralda drawled as she moved to face her father’s widow. “I want you to take a good look at me, Carmelina. You’ve worked so hard at pretending I don’t exist, you may have started believing it. But it’s going to be a little hard to ignore me now, isn’t it?”
Her father’s widow inhaled sharply, her platinum updo bobbing as the woman clearly scrambled for control. “You will not get away with this,” Carmelina hissed through clenched teeth.
“We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” She knew she was pushing the older woman, could see in her eyes she was on the verge of exploding, but Esmeralda had put up with too much over the years to back down. “Things are going to be a little different from now on.”
For an instant she thought she saw a glimmer of something like pride in Rodrigo’s eyes. Bolstered by the knowledge that Carmelina had no power over her, Esme ran a hand over the black tailored pantsuit she’d worn. She looked down at the Gucci stilettos on her feet, from the outlet in Peekskill, but, hey, they still made her look like a million bucks. She might have never been in the bosom of the Sambrano family, but she could play the part if she had to. Her mother had made sure of that.
She felt the weight of every eye in the room trained in her direction. “So,” she said to no one in particular. “How are we going to do this?”
Despite having never been inside this boardroom before, she knew every person around the table. Not just because it was her father’s company, but because Sambrano’s board was made up of a who’s who of the biggest Latinx names in the business. And then there were the ones sitting here because of theirlast name. Perla and Onyx Sambrano. She hadn’t seen them in person since they were kids, and yet from the first glance she could see so much of herself in their faces. The same nose and thick eyebrows. Perla even had the smatter of freckles on the apple of her cheeks Esme had.
“Miss Sambrano.”
Esmeralda’s gaze shifted to the source of a new person trying to catch her attention. She recognized Octavio Nuñez the moment she laid eyes on him. The man had been an institution in Spanish television for decades. He’d started at the studio not long after the network began broadcasting nationally. He’d been the first Spanish-speaking evening news anchor in American television history. And now he was on the board of Sambrano—the chair of the board to be exact. He was also Carmelina’s cousin and Esme had no idea what to expect from him.
“Sambrano-Peña” she clarified as she held her head up, eyes focused on the man who had stood up to address her. His expression was guarded—not friendly, but not contentious, either. She wanted to shift her gaze to Carmelina and see howshewas looking at her cousin. Esmeralda shifted uncomfortably as the man studied her, unsure what to expect, when she heard a whisper from behind her.
“They hate each other. Octavio’s on whatever side Carmelina isn’t.”
Rodrigo.
Esmeralda dipped her head, acknowledging what he’d said, but didn’t respond. Octavio was speaking again. “Welcome. This is a surprise. After all our attempts to contact you went unanswered the board assumed you weren’t interested.”
Carmelina made an attempt to get up, but something held her back. And then Esme noticed Perla’s hand on her mother’s arm. Octavio did not spare his cousin a glance, his attention on Esmeralda. He pointed at the chair that she’d gotten up from in a gesture that she sit down.
“Your father’s wish to have you assume the role of president and CEO of the studio was a surprise to all of us.” There were some sounds of agreement around the table. Some of them even sounded like encouraging ones. “Youareyoung,” he said, but his expression was not unkind. “However, your experience in television and film is impressive.” This time Octavio did send a look toward Carmelina. A withering one. “It’s hardly a secret that in the last few years Patricio didn’t see eye to eye with the board on a few things, but for the most part we’re all invested in doing what’s best for Sambrano.” Rodrigo had been right—there was no love lost between those two, not if the vicious glares they directed at each other were any indication.
“That being said...” The throat clearing from most of the people around the table told her the other shoe was about to drop. “Your father gave the board the liberty to make some stipulations around how to assess if you are the right person for the job.” Esmeralda could hear the hesitation in Octavio’s voice and dread sank through her like a ball of lead. Whatever those “stipulations” were, she would not enjoy them. “And there’s something else. Patricio asked that his personal stake in Sambrano Studios—twenty-five percent of the total shares to be exact—be held in a trust until you decided to comply with his wishes.”
“What does that mean?” she asked in confusion, no longer caring about how she sounded or looked. She was out of her depth, and everyone in this room probably realized it.
Octavio gave her a reassuring smile and picked up a folder, which he slid toward her. “That means that you are now the owner of twenty-five percent of Sambrano Studios. Fifty percent is held by your siblings and Mrs. Sambrano holds the remaining shares.” Esmeralda was glad she was already sitting down because if she weren’t she would’ve probably been knocked on her ass. This was a billion-dollar company; those shares had to be worth hundreds of millions. And right after that thought, it dawned on her that of course her father would only give those shares to her if she complied with what he wanted. Because nothing was ever free with Patricio.
Awful as that was, the shares still gave her some leverage, and she’d take it. Another round of throat clearing erupted and Esme noticed that by now, Perla was almost forcibly keeping her mother in her seat. But Carmelina’s mouth was working fine.
“This is outrageous. Someone must have influenced Patricio. He was not in his right mind at the end. This is the only explanation!” she yelled, pounding her small fist on the table. “She has nothing to do with Sambrano! You can’t do this. I’m trying to protect my children’s rightful legacy! I will not allow this imposter to be the face of my husband’s company.” Carmelina’s mouth was twisted into an ugly sneer as she yelled. “I’d rather see it burn to the ground than let you sit in that office.”
Esme’s heart hammered in her chest and her stomach churned at the loathing dripping from every word Carmelina uttered. The woman had always despised her. Even when Esmeralda was only a child she’d gone out of her way to be cruel. On the few occasions she’d been invited to her father’s house, Carmelina had made her life miserable until her mother had stopped sending her altogether. But Esme was not that little girl anymore, and she was not letting her father’s widow take one more thing from her. So she leaned in, both hands on the table, and spoke directly to the woman who had caused her and her mother so much pain.
“It’s not up to you. They’remyfather’s wishes.” Carmelina twisted her mouth at the mention of Esme’s parentage. “I didn’t ask to be his child any more than your children did, and yet here I am. So, we’re just all going to learn to live with the fact that I’m now part of Sambrano Studios. Whether you like it or not, this ismylegacy, too.” Esme didn’t miss the looks of approval she saw on some of the faces in the room as she leaned back. “Mr. Nuñez, you were saying?” She made sure she sounded placid and unbothered.
Octavio seemed to appreciate her approach. “Like I was saying, we’re happy to see you appointed as president and CEO if we determine you are the best person for the job.” He looked to Rodrigo, who Esme noticed sat up for whatever was coming next. “Here is how it’s going to go. You have one week to present a five-year strategic plan for the studio. A week from today, we will meet here again.”
Esme’s skin prickled with excitement even as she wondered how she’d be able to pull that off in one week. It took her months to prepare her pitch for her pilot and now she would have to deliver a strategic plan for an entire network that had dozens of programming tracks in just seven days?
She squared her shoulders at the challenge, her head high, knowing this was part of the test. If she complained, if she asked the board for more time, it would count against her. And now she had something to prove.
“I can do that,” she assured the man.
