Master Of El Corazon

The women’s eyes met. ‘Yes,’ Arden said carefully, ‘I do.’ With slow, deliberate movements, she tore the cheque in half and went on tearing it until it had been reduced to white confetti, then let it fall like snowflakes over the desk. ‘Tell Mr Lithgow he can stuff that wherever he likes,’ she said, trying to keep her voice from trembling, and she turned sharply and strode from the room.

By the time she’d gone a block, she was calling herself all kinds of fool.

What had it got her, that stupid bit of drama? She had destroyed Lithgow’s cheque, but damn it, to what end? She should have kept it and...

No. She could never have done that. But she could have cashed it and kept at least enough money to get her home. One of the great benefits of this job had been that her room and board were all paid for and so she’d sent most of her pay home. Her mother had been ill last year and Arden had been slowly whittling down the medical bills.

Wait a minute! Her steps slowed. The company owed her severance pay, if nothing else, and a return ticket home. She could go back and demand them...

But what was the point? Lithgow would have to approve such arrangements, and he had conveniently vanished. Well, he couldn’t stay away forever. A few days, Julie had said. Arden’s shoulders straightened. All right, then. She had enough money to keep going that long. The minute he returned, she’d confront him, demand that he issue a cheque for the severance pay due her and meet his other obligations to her, too, including paying her air fare back to the States.

It was the least he owed her.

The days passed, but Lithgow didn’t turn up. His trip had taken him deep into new markets in South America, Julie said when Arden telephoned the office the third time late one afternoon, and he wasn’t expected back for several weeks.

Arden thanked her, hung up the phone, and put her head in her hands.

Now what? She couldn’t take another job, even if she could find one, not without a work permit. There was always the American Embassy, but the thought of telling her story to a bureaucrat who was probably another aristo-bastard like Lithgow was more than she could bear.

And even if he weren’t of Lithgow’s class, he might still give her that same damning look the stranger had. There were even nights she dreamed of the way those green eyes had narrowed with contempt at the sight of her, although why she should was beyond her to understand. She certainly didn’t give one fig for the man or for what he’d thought of her...

There was a knock at the door. Arden stood up slowly and smoothed down her skirt. She’d half expected a visit tonight. Senor Arondo had left her a curt note earlier, reminding her that she had not yet settled her bill for the past week.

She steeled herself, then walked to the door and opened it. But it wasn’t the manager who stood in the corridor, it was Alejandro, the bellboy, and he was carrying a covered tray.

Arden breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Alejandro,’ she said, ‘you’ve made an error. I didn’t order—’

‘Buenos noches, señorita.’ The boy flashed her a quick smile. ‘Your supper.’

If only it were her supper. She wasn’t in the mood to go out to eat tonight, but she’d given up ordering room service—it was too expensive. In fact, she’d given up eating in the hotel. The last couple of days, she’d found it much more economical to take her meals at a little shop around the corner.

‘I’m afraid not,’ Arden said. ‘That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Alejandro. I didn’t—’

The boy winked as he moved past her into the room. ‘I hope the order is right,’ he said loudly.

Arden frowned as she let the door swing shut. ‘Alejandro, what’s this all about?’

‘I had to have an excuse to come to your room, señorita.’ He put down the tray and smiled at her. ‘Otherwise, I would have got myself in trouble.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘I am here on my own behalf. No. That is not correct. I am here on behalf of my cousin, Pablo.’

Arden blinked. ‘Your cousin?’

‘Señorita Miller, please believe me when I say I have no wish to embarrass you, but...’ The boy caught his lip between his teeth. ‘But we hear things,’ he said, rushing the words together. ‘It is said that you—ah—that you had a falling-out with Senor Lithgow and that is why you no longer work for his company.’

She blew out her breath. ‘Well, that’s one way to put it.’

‘It is said, as well, that—that you need money. And—and—’

Her eyes focused on the boy’s reddening face ‘And?’

‘And that is where my cousin enters the picture.’

Arden shook her head. ‘I’m afraid I don’t understand.’

‘Well—well, Pablo knows of this difficulty of yours, señorita. And he would like the chance to offer you a proposition.’

Her expression hardened. ‘Would he?’ she said in a flat voice.

‘Oh, yes, absolutely. Pablo lives an hour’s drive from here, in a very big house. A mansion, you would say.’ The boy’s face lit. ‘It is beautiful there. There is a pool to swim in, and horses to ride—oh, there are all manner of beautiful things to enjoy. And Pablo says you are the perfect woman for him.’

‘Indeed.’

Alejandro was not impervious to the growing frigidity in Arden’s face and voice.

‘I told him that such an offer might embarrass you,’ he said with obvious discomfort, ‘but he was determined I speak on his behalf.’

‘Yes, I can just imagine.’ Arden slapped her hands on her hips. ‘Well, you can just tell Pablo that I’m not interested. The damned nerve of him—and of you, Alejandro! How could you make such a proposal to me?’

The boy’s face fell. ‘Si,’ he whispered miserably. ‘I told him you would say this. “Pablo,” I said, “the señorita is a secretary, she is not a—”’

‘That’s right,’ Arden said with feeling. ‘I’m a secretary, although lately everyone else seems to think I’m—’

‘—she is not a nurse. “But she does not need to be a nurse,” Pablo said. “Old man Romero already has one of those,” he said, and it is true. What the old man needs is a companion, someone who will read to him and talk with him, someone who is a gringa because no tica has ever been able to stand up to his temper—’

‘Wait a minute,’ Arden said quickly. ‘What are you talking about? What old man?’

‘Never mind, señorita. Forgive me for having been so impertinent.’

Arden reached out and caught hold of the boy’s arm as he began to turn away.

‘Alejandro, please, tell me what this is all about. Is this—is your cousin—’

‘Pablo,’ he said helpfully.

She nodded. ‘Yes, Pablo. Is he offering me a job as his companion?’

‘Pablo?’ he said with a giggle. ‘No, certainly not. My cousin is the chauffeur to Señor Romero, señorita.’

‘He’s making the offer for Señor Romero, you mean?’

‘Sí. The old man has many servants but only Linda to keep him company, and—’

‘inda?’ Arden repeated. She was growing more baffled by the minute. Would she ever be able to sort this out?