More Than a Mistress (Latin Men Book 5) Read online

  Sonia took a deep breath and shook her head vigorously. “I’m not the kind of woman you’re looking for. The lifestyle you offer doesn’t interest me. You may not want my soul, but you obviously want my body, and I am not a prostitute.”

  She barely contained her anger. What was it about her that made him think she’d be open to such an arrangement?

  “You assume that because I have asked you to spend time with me and I’m willing to pay for it, that makes you a prostitute?”

  “That’s usually the way that it works.”

  “Let me ask you something,” Esteban said. “When you slept with your pastry maker, what did he give you in return?”

  “Pedro didn’t have to give me anything in return. That’s not the way relationships work.”

  “They also don’t work when one person cheats on the other.”

  That was an unnecessary twist of the knife. “Get away from me.” Sonia made to move away, but he slammed his left hand on the other side of her, trapping her against the wall.

  “Aren’t relationships built on give and take?” Esteban tilted his head.

  “Not in the way you’re suggesting.”

  “You find offense because I’m willing to give, in a give-and-take relationship. I understand these are unusual circumstances, but it’s the same. You had no problem sleeping with a man who offered you nothing in return, but you have a problem sleeping with a man who’s willing to put the world at your feet because you make me feel good and I want to show you off. All I’m asking is for you to give me the pleasure of your body and your company, and I’ll give you anything your heart desires.”

  “That’s not a relationship,” Sonia said.

  “It’s better than the one you had with the pastry maker,” he said.

  “His name is Pedro, and you don’t know anything about me and him.”

  Sonia tightened her fingers around the straps of her purse. She wanted to shove him out of the way, but he was so big and broad she knew any effort she made to do so would be in vain. He was like a tree with deep roots. He wasn’t going anywhere.

  “I know plenty. I know he didn’t give a damn about you, or he wouldn’t have taken another woman to his bed, and he wouldn’t have walked away so easily.”

  The words cut deep, slicing into her chest with the unvarnished truth. “And what about you and that model you broke up with a few months ago—Noelle? Did you give a damn about her?”

  “I took care of her, like I do all my lovers. Believe me, she was satisfied.”

  “Was she your mistress?”

  “I’ve had mistresses in the past, but who and when is a private matter. All you need to know is that I took care of them.”

  “And in exchange, they gave you sex.”

  He laughed softly. “You make it sound ugly. You had sex with Pedro, no?”

  “Not for money! And we had sex with each other.”

  “And is that all you want? Sex and empty promises?”

  She wanted more, but not like this. “I’ve entertained you long enough.” She dismissed him by shifting her gaze to a point over his shoulder.

  “I won’t lie to you or use you the way he did. I would treat you like the gem you are. Last night was a fraction of what I can offer. Diamonds, the finest clothes, and trips around the world. Anything you want, I’ll give it to you.”

  “We both know it’s not that simple.”

  “It can be as simple or as complicated as we want it to be,” Esteban said. “Our relationship doesn’t have to be complicated. We’re both adults, and we both know what we want. I’m willing to do that for you and include a monthly allowance. When I’m not in the United States, you can do as you please. I only have two stipulations: that you make yourself available to me at my request, and you don’t see any other men.”

  Folding her arms over her chest, Sonia spoke past a tight throat. “And what about you? Will you be seeing other women?”

  “This may come as a surprise to you, but I expect exclusivity from you, and I willingly offer you the same, without reservation. You satisfy me. Very much.” He said the last words slowly, and when he did, his heated gaze drifted over her body.

  The flame in his eyes and rigid set to his jaw suggested that he was getting aroused. The truth was, she was attracted to him—had been from the beginning. Even now, she wanted him, and if he’d approached her with a different proposition, she might have considered continuing to see him. But he’d soiled the lovely night they spent together and crushed the feelings she felt blossoming for him.

  “I’m not interested,” Sonia said, with a withering glare.

  His jaw firmed, and for taut seconds they remained in a staring match. At last, Esteban pushed back from the wall, dropping his hands to his sides. “I think you should reconsider.”

  “I don’t care what you think.”

  “Whenever I come to this country, you’ll join me at events and cohost my dinner parties. Essentially, everything you’ve done this weekend and in the past, except with an added benefit. I cover all your personal expenses, give you a clothing allowance, and deposit twenty thousand dollars into your account every month. Could you use that kind of money?”

  Sonia inhaled sharply. Who couldn’t?

  “That’s an obscene amount of money,” she said.

  Even if she found a full-time position as a sommelier, she wouldn’t make that much. He’d offered her a six-figure salary. She could stop working and finish studying for her exam. Hell, she could set up a nice cushion for herself, and her mind raced with other uses of the funds.

  All she had to do was sell her body. The thought sickened her.

  “Don’t give me a final answer yet. Consider—”

  “I’ve considered it, and the answer is no.” Yes, she’d be in a better financial position, but lowering herself to be a rich man’s whore wasn’t worth her pride or dignity.

  “You’re making a hasty decision,” Esteban said tersely. “I will leave my offer open to you for the entire time I’m in the country. I travel back to Argentina at the end of the month. Once I leave, I withdraw the offer.”

  His callous tone turned her off, like a cold splash of water being slammed into her face. Straightening her spine, Sonia said, “You can withdraw your disgusting offer now and shove it up your ass. I won’t change my mind. Goodbye, Esteban. Please don’t ever call me again.”

  She marched out of the door.

  “The offer remains open until I leave the country,” he reminded her.

  Sonia walked past a bewildered Abel, who’d hopped out of the Maybach to open the door the minute he saw her exit the building. She crossed the street on brisk feet. The sun overhead was bright and seemed to mock the swirl of dark emotions she wrestled under.

  Of course she’d be late to work now, thanks to Esteban and his ridiculous conversation, and because she had to walk when he’d offered to drop her off.

  Like so many people, he didn’t see her. Only the outer shell. Her looks. That was all he cared about. He’d insulted her and basically offered her a position as his whore on demand. Disappointment burned her chest, and she gritted her teeth, fighting back unexpected tears.

  Blinking rapidly, she inhaled the fresh air of the early afternoon as she turned the corner onto Ocean Drive.

  She wouldn’t miss any of the extravagance of Esteban’s lifestyle. She didn’t care about it. And she definitely wouldn’t miss his arrogant ass.

  Chapter 19

  The next afternoon, a Tiffany box arrived. Sonia told herself not to open it, but curiosity got the better of her. She lifted off the cover and gasped at the necklace’s brilliance, consisting of a buttercup pendant in platinum and gold with a yellow diamond.

  It was simple yet exquisite—a fine piece of jewelry that she could appreciate. Exactly the kind of gift she could expect during the course of her “arrangement” with Esteban if she chose to accept his offer. That was obviously what he wanted to make clear to her. The necklace was the beginning, a
sample of what he had to offer and how her life would change.

  Sonia shoved the jewelry into a drawer under her bras and panties, changed into running shorts and a tight tank, and slipped her Fitbit on her wrist. She hadn’t been running in a while, but a good run might clear her head.

  After stretching, she left the apartment and jogged south, then turned down a side street toward Ocean Drive, quieter now, hours before it turned into a place to watch and be seen when nighttime fell and flashy cars cruised up and down the strip.

  She stayed on the beach side, opposite the line of art deco buildings that housed the hotels and restaurants. Running by men working out and people playing volleyball in the sand, she thought about Esteban’s offer and the deeper reason she’d become so upset.

  He’d hurt her. He’d insulted her with his so-called offer. After hearing so many times what he thought she deserved, she’d begun to believe the words. But desire did not mean he valued her as a person. He’d been priming and softening her for when he asked her to be his trophy, nothing but an empty-headed bimbo on his arm. As if she had no aspirations, no goals. Her job would be to please him, and look good doing it.

  Sonia went from a comfortable jog to a calf-burning sprint. Gritting her teeth, she pushed her body until she came to an abrupt halt at the end of the street and collapsed onto the grass.

  Few people knew the story of what she considered to be the biggest mistake of her life. She’d kept that under wraps, having left her job in shame after an affair with the owner of the restaurant where she worked.

  Maybe she’d had a weird daddy complex and was seeking love from a father figure, but Stone Riverton had been twenty-five years her senior—friendly and kind. He offered her advice often, and eventually their friendship developed into a sexual relationship. He displayed confidence in her abilities by making her assistant manager of his restaurant when she was only nineteen. She’d thought she was in love, and they continued their affair for a whole year before a coworker told her about his wife, tucked away in a facility, paralyzed from the neck down after a spooked horse attacked her.

  Sonia confronted him, and he admitted having a wife, and something else that hit right at the heart of her insecurities: he admitted that he wouldn’t have given anyone else with her lack of experience the assistant manager position at his restaurant.

  Why do you think I gave you that position?

  She knew why, and it hurt. And Esteban’s offer hurt. She didn’t want to care, but her chest ached, and she rubbed away the pain right above her heart.

  “Screw you, Esteban,” she muttered, and shot to her feet. Running in the direction she’d come from, she moved at a more reasonable pace. Near her street, she jogged between cars to the opposite sidewalk and slowed to a walk.

  She was out of breath, but the exercise had expended the anger she hadn’t been able to get rid of since yesterday.

  Inside the apartment building, she climbed the stairs and encountered a deliveryman leaving a note on her door.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “Do you live here?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Package for you.” Tucked under his arm was a rectangular box wrapped in lavender paper with a silver bow.

  “Who’s it from?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.

  The man shrugged. “I don’t know, ma’am. I’m just the delivery guy.”

  Sonia signed the electronic device in his hand and thanked him for the package. Inside, she set the box on the counter and stared at it for a spell as she drank a bottle of cool water.

  Another gift from Esteban; she was certain of it.

  Ignore it, she told herself.

  She went into the bathroom, stripped off her clothes, and washed her hair and skin under tepid water. She decided to let her hair air dry, and wrapped her body in a fluffy robe. She returned to the living room, and the package still sat on the counter, waiting for her.

  She stared at it for a long time. Finally, with a sigh, she opened the box. Enveloped in white tissue paper was the burnished gold dress from Bella Boutique, along with a pair of earrings and a matching bracelet.

  Linn said you liked this dress. I want you to have it. I hope you’ll let me have the pleasure of seeing you wear it one day. Esteban.

  Sonia picked up her cell phone and dialed his number. When he answered, she said, “Stop sending me gifts.”

  “It gives me pleasure to give you gifts.”

  “That’s not why you’re doing it. You’re trying to wear me down.”

  “Is it working?”

  “No.”

  She hung up the phone and switched it off. She needed a breather. Time to get out of Miami for a bit.

  Chapter 20

  A trip to Atlanta was long overdue, where Sonia truly felt at home—in Uncle Rowell’s house, on Sixth Street in East Point, located on the southwestern corner of Atlanta. She’d lived there from the time she was eight years old, after her mother passed away from pancreatic cancer, until she struck out on her own at eighteen.

  After the airport shuttle dropped her off, Sonia stood in front of the small red-brick house sitting back from the street. Taking a deep breath, she tightened her grip on the black rolling duffel bag and trekked up the long driveway that bisected the lawn.

  As she climbed the steps onto the porch, the screen door swung open from the inside, and the smiling face of Uncle Rowell greeted her. Stoop-shouldered, he didn’t move as swiftly as he used to, but the sparkle remained his eyes, and the wide, welcoming grin hadn’t dimmed.

  “Hey, hey, baby doll,” he said, in a cheerful voice that sounded as rough and coarse as tree bark.

  Sonia dropped her bag and ran into his arms, gripping him around the neck and letting the hairs of his Frederick Douglass-like Afro brush her cheek and neck.

  “It’s so good to see you,” she said, voice quivering a little.

  Coming to this small house on the edge of Atlanta was a familiar comfort, one that made her feel as if she could let down her guard and be vulnerable, regressing in some ways to the young girl who had grown up there.

  Rowell Melancon was the oldest of nine, her mother Deniece being the youngest. Since his last heart surgery, she’d worried that her uncle didn’t have many days left. She should have come sooner. Atlanta was a two-hour plane ride away, yet she’d stayed gone for two years. She had her reasons, but that would have to change. She loved her Uncle Rowell to death, and though she stood before him now, the emotion of missing him burned in her throat.

  “Come on in. What you been up to, baby doll?” Uncle Rowell had been calling Sonia by that nickname since before she moved in with him. Apparently, the first time he saw a photo of her as a baby, he said she looked like a little doll, with her round face and full cheeks.

  Sonia dragged her luggage into the house, which smelled like Bengay and kerosene from the portable heater in the corner, currently turned off, since spring ushered in warmer temperatures. The house didn’t have central air or heat, so growing up they’d set the kerosene heater in the hallway and left the bedroom doors open so the warm air could travel into the rooms where they slept.

  Sonia sat down on the old brown couch in the living room, careful not to sit on the crack in the upholstery, which in the past had snagged her pantyhose or pinched her skin. The small space also contained a recliner that no one sat in but Uncle Rowell, an armchair, and a floor-model TV that was currently turned off.

  Her uncle sank onto the recliner. Knowing him, he’d been sitting there before she arrived, fast asleep when the shuttle pulled up. The sound of the engine would have awakened him. He had the hearing of a bat.

  “What you know good, baby doll?”

  Just like that, Sonia felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders, and the pressure of thinking about Esteban’s indecent proposal disappeared.

  They spent the afternoon reminiscing, and she complained—but not too much—about her lack of job opportunit
ies, and listened to his encouraging words. He’d always believed in her, and when she’d mentioned that she wanted to become a sommelier, he’d encouraged her to pursue her dream, even though he had no idea what a sommelier was or did.

  After their conversation, Sonia took her uncle to his favorite buffet, and they spent a couple more hours laughing and reminiscing and eating way too much. Several members of the wait staff, who knew him well, came by the table and chatted with them while they ate.

  On the ride back to the house, Sonia was in good spirits. With her arm wrapped around her uncle’s shoulders, she helped him maneuver onto the porch. As they unlocked the door, the lights from a vehicle swung across the front of the house and a black sedan pulled into the driveway.

  “Val’s here,” Uncle Rowell said, sounding pleased.

  Of course he’d be pleased to see his daughter, but Sonia immediately tensed, her cousin Valencia’s appearance putting a damper on the otherwise pleasant day.

  Uncle Rowell shuffled inside, with Sonia guiding from behind with a hand on his lower back. Minutes later, Valencia appeared in the doorway, dressed in a black suit and white shirt—more of a uniform, since she wore the same combination every time Sonia saw her.

  “Hi, Daddy, how are you?” She kissed his cheek.

  “Good, now that I got a belly full of collard greens, corn bread, and country-fried steak.” He grinned at Sonia.

  “Don’t forget the ribs and carrot pie.”

  “No, no, can’t forget that.” Shaking his head, he chuckled.

  “Hey, Sonia. Daddy told me you’d be coming for a visit. I stopped by earlier but the house was empty. Would’ve joined the two of you for dinner if I’d known where you were.” Her shrewd eyes bored into Sonia’s, her intense dislike palpable by the slight wrinkling of her nose, as if she smelled a foul scent.

  Sonia deflated internally but kept her feelings from displaying outwardly. “I guess we’ll have to let you know where we are next time.”

  When they were younger and Sonia had moved into the house, they used to tell people Sonia was Valencia’s younger sister. As the years wore on, Valencia became known as the smart one and Sonia as the pretty one, and their relationship fractured. Her cousin, one year older, became resentful of the attention Sonia garnered from the boys in the neighborhood and in school and at church, and eventually made sure everyone knew they were cousins, not sisters.