Page 9 of One Week To Claim It All
“If it were up to Carmelina, this place wouldn’t even be a shadow of what it used to be. The only reason there’s anything left is because I’ve fought tooth and nail to save it. And don’t think she hasn’t tried to bully me into being her accomplice in schemes. But contrary to what the gossips will tell you, I’m not for sale.” He stood up then, dropping the empty coffee cup in the wastebasket as he moved closer to her. “And that’s one of the many reasons I should be in charge of this studio,” he said, all traces of the amiable conversation they’d been having completely gone. “You have no idea what you’re up against, Esmeralda. This is a fight for the future of this company, and if you think I’ll back down just because you’re involved, then you don’t know me at all.”
“Oh, believe me, I’m counting on getting stabbed in the back by you.”
He reared back like she’d slapped him in the face, but he recovered quickly, and soon he was leaning in across the table, face twisted in anger. “Unlike Patricio’s wife and his children, I care about what happens to this place. Or maybe now that you have your shares you want to make sure to get your dividends...”
That was a low blow, but it was a good reminder that Rodrigo was not on her side. “I’ve never counted on a cent from Patricio Sambrano,” she said, standing up to her full height. If he wanted to fight dirty and say hurtful things then she had ten years’ worth of grievances to hurl at Rodrigo Almanzar. “You of all people should know that. Because if I recall correctly, you had a first-row seat to my father putting my mother out on the street on a whim. Or did you block that out of your memory together with every other thing about me you seem to have erased?”
His nostrils flared at that and she knew her words had struck true. His light brown skin flushed with red. Yeah, heshouldbe ashamed of himself.
“You were the one who cut off all contact, Esmeralda,” he said through gritted teeth. “I never said we couldn’t be friends. Yo nunca—”
She could see the hurt in his eyes and immediately the urge to back down rose in her. But she smothered it out. She was tired of being overlooked, of being ignored. Of the men in her life walking out on her and then expecting her to run back and forgive them. And now she was right back there, to that nightmare of a weekend.
“You would never what?” The trip had been almost a year in the making. Rodrigo had tried and failed to get out of work for months, until he finally got a few days off to come and see her. She’d been in love and sure they were starting something that could last forever, but she’d been mistaken of course. She’d been foolish about everything when it came to this man. “You would never tell me you loved me, sleep with me, only to ghost me the next morning? Or betray me for power and money? Oh, wait,” she said dramatically, then pointed a finger at him. “That’s exactly what you did.”
His face seemed to turn to stone and her chest ached from what she was doing. She felt wretched, and yet she could not seem to stop herself. It was as if she’d had this poison sitting in her gut for ten years and now that it had started coming out she had to purge all of it.
“My father hurt me and abandoned me, but I never expected any better from him. You? You tore my heart out.”
She walked out before he could respond and before he could see the tears that were rolling down her face. And as she reached her office she wondered how much of herself she was willing to lose in order to win this game.
Six
“What is this supposed to be?”
Rodrigo was still stewing over their earlier conversation—argument, fight, whatever. So Esmeralda appearing in his office looking pissed and pushing a clothing rack full of evening dresses only sank his mood further.
“It’s a selection of dresses for you to pick from for the reception tonight.” He didn’t look up from the email he was sending off.
One more investor who had appeared out of nowhere wanting to acquire the studio. This had Carmelina’s fingerprints all over it. The woman was nothing if not persistent. From the moment they’d heard about Patricio’s will she’d been trying to get him on her side. That really would be a deal with the devil.
“I said I was not going,” Esmeralda growled.
He kept typing. “There is also a makeup artist available if you need it.” When he finally looked up, he found her fuming by his desk. “Did Marquito bring the shoes?” Rodrigo asked, ignoring her searing glare.
Her jaw actually dropped at that last part, and he would’ve laughed if she didn’t look like she could murder him. “That’s what that big box was? Wait, Marquito’s here?”
He wished his chest didn’t light up like the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree at the affection in Esmeralda’s voice at the mention of his younger brother. Marcos was a sought-after celebrity stylist and at twenty-eight was making a name for himself in the industry. Rodrigo had asked for his help only a couple of hours ago and it seemed he’d delivered.
“Did I get the wrong size?” He doubted it. When it came to Esmeralda’s body, every curve and every angle was forever etched in his memory. “Marquito’s not here. He sent the dresses by messenger.”
“Oh.” She looked genuinely disappointed. She’d always been kind to his little brother and when Marcos had been a ball of teen angst and confusion she’d been the first person he’d come out to. Rodrigo would always be grateful to her for that, but that was neither here nor there at the moment.
“Are you listening to me, Rodrigo?” The exasperation in her voice brought him out of his thoughts. He kept going into his head. Distraction was not his friend. Not this week.
“Sorry,” he muttered, as he turned back to her. “Is there a problem with the dresses?”
“No, they’re perfect, which only makes this that much more irritating.”
“Okay, so what’s the problem then?” he asked gruffly, feeling unsettled with this woman in his space.
She threw her arms up and came closer to the desk. Her mouth pursed in an adorably irritated expression and he once again had to remind himself his instinct to reach out to her was not just stupid, it was self-destructive. No matter what happened this week there would be a falling-out. If she got the job, he knew he’d be crushed. If he got it, that would only give her another reason to hate him.
“Listen, I appreciate you trying to give me my very ownPretty Womanmoment this week, but I already said I’m not going to this party.” He dearly wished that his traitorous cock didn’t pulse at that sexy huskiness of her voice. “It’s not worth losing an entire evening mingling and drinking champagne when I could be working.” She had both hands on her hips, her face flushed, and he wondered if this proximity was getting to her, too.
But before he could even open his mouth, the last person he wanted to see walked into his office, as if he’d conjured her up with his thoughts.
“Isn’t this cozy? Rodrigo, are you spending the company’s money on dresses now? I thought that big salary we paid you was to actually do work.” Carmelina Sambrano knew less about television and moviemaking than a kindergartener, and yet she fancied herself an expert on what his job entailed. He was surprised it had taken this long for her to come and harass Esme.
