Still in Love Page 4

  “Good to see you, too. Boy or girl this time?” Nadine asked.

  “Gracias a Dios, a girl this time. No more boys.” She giggled and rubbed her belly.

  Carlos, almost as tall as his father but with a slighter build, pulled a cooler from the trunk of the blue sedan he arrived in. From a quick check, Nadine saw the vehicle contained more coolers, and she knew plenty of meat and food had been brought.

  That could only mean one thing. They were going to have a party.

  Chapter 7

  Keep your distance.

  That’s what Cortez kept telling himself, and it was easier to do with a house abuzz with activity. He welcomed the revelry of his cousins and friends, who’d arrived after Gustavo put out the call for the party. Cortez sat just on the outskirts, watching the festivities from his vantage point on the patio, lanterns positioned around the heart-shaped pool adding enough light to see, but keeping the atmosphere cozy.

  Gustavo had brought plenty of fresh meat from his ranch and the men had spent the afternoon grilling steaks, chicken, and chorizo. Side dishes of salad, potatoes, rice, and empanadas had been delivered in chafing dishes from a local restaurant. Joachim had made two trips to the wine cellar for bottles of Malbec, and a separate trip to the store for beer and other spirits. Philippa and two of the maids had set up the food and tables around the pool, while Benita and Nadine worked in the kitchen preparing chimichurri to accompany the steaks.

  Now that the party was in full swing, everyone was having a good time—talking, eating, and some even dancing. The kids occupied themselves away from the adults. Antonella and Gabriela had discovered the gelato in the deep freezer, so they and the other children bulldozed through the inventory, eating the frozen treat while huddled in a big group at one end of the pool.

  Gustavo staggered over, bottle of beer in hand, and plopped down onto the chair next to Cortez. He was already drunk, and when his brother drank, he talked a lot. Cortez braced for the coming conversation.

  “She looks great.” He directed his gaze over to Nadine, standing with his wife on the other side of the pool. “How do you plan to get her back?”

  “I don’t.” He sipped his wine. The rich flavor washed over his tongue, but not even the exquisite taste of the grape could compare to the sweetness he’d sampled when he’d kissed Nadine last night.

  Gustavo frowned. “What do you mean? Why is she here at the house with you, then?”

  Cortez explained the mix-up with Elsa.

  With an overly hearty laugh that shook his large frame, Gustavo tossed his head back. Definitely drunk.

  “And you believe her?” He snorted. “Our little sister is playing matchmaker. She wants the two of you back together.”

  The same thought had crossed his mind, but Cortez had dismissed it; because if it was true, he’d have to throttle Elsa—thereby leaving her fiancé without a bride.

  “You loved each other once,” Gustavo said, speaking in a grave voice like a wise man imparting knowledge from years of experience. “Benita and I don’t always get along. Our parents don’t always get along. Marriage is work, and you don’t give up because of a rough patch.” He tossed back a swallow of beer.

  “We didn’t give up.” Everyone tried to break down their split into simplistic terms. Give up. Stop fighting. Nothing could be further from the truth. “Our situation is more complicated than that.” He sipped his wine.

  “Why? Because you couldn’t have any more children?”

  Cortez stiffened at the blunt question.

  “You can have one of mine,” his brother continued. He took a swig of beer, unaware in his inebriated state that he’d just torn open an old wound.

  “I’d rather have my own,” Cortez murmured.

  Coming from large families—he with five brothers and sisters and Nadine with six—they’d both wanted a large family of their own. But after Antonella, getting pregnant had been difficult. For years they’d tried, and for years he watched her struggle to keep her hopes up. Being around his family didn’t help. Every year at least one of his siblings welcomed a new baby into the world, and their family celebrated. Every year, he and she waited, and hoped, and prayed they’d be able to celebrate, too.

  After some time, he stopped talking about having children because he didn’t want her to feel any pressure. Then the unthinkable happened, and she never quite recovered. Her vibrancy and optimism had been snuffed out, and he couldn’t fix it. She became fifty percent alive and one hundred percent unhappy, and he was never able to put a genuine smile on her face again—something he’d promised himself he would always do. Keep her smiling. Keep her happy.

  “You can have your own children,” Gustavo said. “If not with Nadine, then find another woman. You can have any woman you want.”

  But he only wanted one.

  His eyes flicked over to Nadine, who stood swaying gently to the music as she and Benita spoke. She’d been with him from the beginning. He wanted her with him in the end.

  Nadine munched on a delicious meat empanada, waiting for Benita to return from the bathroom.

  She’d missed this. The welcoming nature of the Alesini clan had made her transition into the culture that much easier, but it hadn’t been a completely smooth transition. A few relatives had questioned Cortez’s decision to marry a woman who, in their words, didn’t fit into their “homogenous” family structure, but he’d swiftly and firmly squashed such comments. If anyone else had a problem with her, she was not aware, and eventually her mind settled that her mixed race daughter would have no problem fitting in.

  She watched as Cortez came toward her from the other side of the pool. They’d done an excellent job of avoiding each other for most of the day, but as he neared, her heart made a worrisome flutter in her chest.

  He bestowed a lazy smile on her. “I bet you don’t miss all this craziness,” he said.

  He was trying to be polite, pretending like last night hadn’t happened. For the sake of appearances, she went along with him.

  “Southern families can be just as crazy and boisterous.”

  “Hmm…” He looked down into his almost-empty glass of wine as if the answers to the mysteries of the universe were contained within. “I wouldn’t know.”

  Just as members of his family had been skeptical about their union, members of hers had been as well. Their concerns had been rooted in the fact that her decision to abandon her home and job was based solely on falling in love—an emotion they doubted she actually felt. They thought her decision impulsive and imprudent, and worried about how Cortez would support her without a “real job.”

  “My parents didn’t dislike you. They just…didn’t understand how I could walk away from everything to move here.”

  “Even after we achieved all of this, they never fully accepted our marriage. They must be glad you’re back home.”

  “They’re not happy my marriage fell apart, if that’s what you mean.”

  They both fell silent.

  “Would you ever consider moving back?” He spoke even slower than usual, his words a bit slurred.

  She eyed his glass. “How much have you had to drink?”

  “Not as much as Gustavo.”

  “That’s not saying much.” He laughed, and she hazarded a grin. As big as Gustavo was, he was always the first to get drunk. Benita and Carlos would have quite a struggle getting him up the stairs to bed tonight.

  “Would you move back?” Cortez pressed, his face inscrutable.

  “You’ve had too much to drink.”

  “I’m not drunk.” Emotion radiated from his eyes. “Answer the question.”

  “Don’t do this.” Her heart started racing.

  “Do what?”

  “You’re trying to force an answer out of me.”

  “What are you afraid of?”

  You.

  “Was it so terrible?” he asked, softly. He lifted a hand, about to touch her cheek or her hair, so close that only a sliver of air separated them.<
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  “I left, didn’t I?”

  The question stopped him mid-motion. His fingers crumbled into a fist and his face became shuttered.

  Nadine turned away. “Didn’t we hurt each other enough? Let’s not do this.”

  He didn’t respond right away. The beat of the music and the sounds of laughter and conversation around the patio filled her ears.

  “You’re right,” he said tersely.

  With the flick of a wrist, Cortez tossed his glass against the back wall. It shattered into a dozen pieces, and Nadine flinched, jarred by the manifestation of his anger. She remained rooted to the spot, watching his stiff back as he disappeared into the house.

  Other than a few heads turned in their direction, no one else noticed what he’d done, or the remnants of wine sliding down the cream-colored brick like drops of blood.

  Chapter 8

  What a night. And they still had hours to go.

  Stifling a yawn, Nadine dragged into the hotel ballroom on sore feet. She rolled her stiff neck and wiggled her shoulders to loosen the tight muscles. Some of the guests had left, but the wedding was still going strong. For the most part, an empty table meant the occupants were on the dance floor. Young, old, and in-between. She had no idea where they got the energy from.

  At the moment, neither the bride nor groom could be seen for the throng of family and friends that surrounded them, dancing to a pop song played by the live band. The entire group gyrated and jumped around as if it wasn’t almost six in the morning.

  None of this was a surprise. Argentine weddings had a habit of starting at night and lasting into the next day, so Nadine had prepared by taking a nap beforehand. She’d still done good to last this long. Soon enough she’d be leaving, but she first had to lay eyes on her daughter.

  Scanning the dim room, illuminated by candles on each table and a ball casting flashes of light as it twirled from the ceiling, she didn’t see Antonella anywhere. Knowing her twelve-year-old, she was probably in the middle of the madness with her family members.

  Across the room, Cortez stood near a wall with a small plate in hand, talking to the wedding planner and one of the hotel employees. He’d long ago gotten rid of his tie and jacket like many of the men in the room, wearing only a white shirt and black trousers—two very basic colors that somehow managed to magnify his sex appeal.

  Her eyes lingered on his bent head and profile, recalling his display of anger the night before. She and Cortez went together about as well as winter and summer, and they’d made sure to steer clear of each other as much as possible. Easy enough to do in a house of that size. While she relaxed poolside with Benita and the youngest boys, he spent time with Antonella and Gabriela at the park. While she napped, they watched movies or played air hockey in the game room. It was all very civilized.

  Right then he looked up, and Nadine’s stomach contracted. They’d arrived in the limo, which had been a painfully quiet ride, occasionally disrupted by Antonella and Gabriela snickering with their heads together, oblivious to the tension between her and Cortez.

  Nadine sent him a brief smile, one that she hoped he saw as a peace offering. They had to do better than this. Gustavo and his family were leaving tomorrow, which meant she and Cortez would no longer have the buffer of family between them.

  To her surprise, he smiled back, and she took a relieved breath. With five more days left on this trip, it was better if they got along.

  He said a few words to the hotel contact, nodded, and then walked in her direction. The closer he came, the more the air charged, and she wondered if he felt it, too. Or was she the only one who experienced the sizzle—the crackle around them whenever they were in the same vicinity?

  Cortez swiveled a chair from a nearby table in the same direction as hers, so he could watch the dance floor as well. He dropped into it with a groan.

  “Don’t tell me you’re tired,” Nadine said.

  “Okay, I won’t tell you.”

  “This should be nothing for you. You used to put on a concert, party into the morning, and then stroll into a TV studio for a live interview.”

  Crossing an ankle over his knee, he said, “The good old days.” He sliced into the hunk of cake on his plate. “Mmmm. Delicioso.”

  Nadine eyed the dessert. “Is that the first piece you’ve had all night?”

  Cortez nodded. “They set this aside for me.” He shot her a look from the corner of his eye and arched a brow. “How many have you had?’

  “Don’t worry about how many I’ve had,” she snapped.

  The sexy smile he was known for appeared as he laughed quietly to himself. “Is that two or three slices?”

  “What did I just say?” Nadine asked.

  He full-on chuckled this time. Sliding his gaze to hers, he shook his head and said, “You truly haven’t changed a bit.”

  Nadine shifted her gaze away from him to hide the reaction to his words, to his face, to his very presence.

  “You can have mine.” Cortez extended the plate to her.

  “This is the last of it?” Nadine glanced toward the table where the delicious three-tier masterpiece covered in white fondant and filled with passionfruit custard had previously been displayed.

  “No more,” he confirmed.

  She shook her head. “No, that’s yours. I couldn’t.” Plus she’d already had two slices.

  He shoved the plate closer, and the moist layers of the dessert called out to her. “I insist. I’ve had enough.”

  She sincerely doubted that. Her lust for sweets was legendary, but she found her match in him. “I can’t possibly eat all of this alone. You’ll have to share it with me.”

  “Deal.” He scooted the chair closer.

  In the past, she would have simply used Cortez’s fork, but something as simple as that would be considered inappropriate now. Too intimate. She unrolled a cloth napkin and used the fork inside to cut off a slice of the cake. Slipping it into her mouth, she moaned with satisfaction.

  “I want to kiss the baker,” she murmured.

  Cortez laughed at her right before placing a hunk of cake in his mouth.

  She took off another piece, and they quietly went back and forth, eating the delicious dessert. It reminded her of other occasions, in the beginning when they had struggled as newlyweds and a night out meant sharing a meal and splitting dessert afterward. They always made sure they had enough money for dessert.

  Anyone looking at them could easily mistake them for a couple from those years past, the way they shared the plate, held upright in his hand, cutting and eating and savoring each bite together.

  When the last morsel remained, Cortez’s gaze bounced from her to the plate and back to her again. “Go ahead,” he said, with a slight nod.

  Nadine shook her head. “It’s the last piece, and it was yours originally, so you should have it.”

  “Take it.”

  He spoke quietly, and she knew he meant it. He might even become a little upset if she didn’t take it.

  The simple generosity made her blink back tears. With numb lips she said, “Thank you.” Nothing but crumbs remained after she placed the last piece of cake in her mouth.

  Chewing slowly, it took a while for Nadine to get it all down. When she did, she set the fork on the table beside her.

  Then she turned and met her ex-husband’s steady gaze.

  “Are you happy in Atlanta?” His face was pensive and shuttered, hiding his emotions with the same effectiveness of someone lowering the shades on a window to block out all light.

  Happy.

  She’d thought she was—and on some level, she truly was. She had her health, a good job, and her daughter. After coming here, however, she felt more like someone who’d fooled herself into thinking she was happy—living a life that, little by little, was being exposed for the lie that it was.

  The attraction between her and Cortez was undeniable, and it didn’t take a genius to deduce that what she felt was more than attraction. So how coul
d she ever truly be happy when the man she used to love—she swallowed the obvious lie—still loved, lived thousands of miles away?

  Her eyes shifted toward the gyrating dancers. Cortez’s parents had already left, but his aunt was on the floor, shimmying with her husband and giving the younger generation stiff competition.

  “I’m—” she pushed the words past the knot in her throat, “—I’m as happy as I can be.”

  She didn’t see his reaction, but when he responded in a low voice, she thought she heard him say, “That’s all that matters.”

  “Are you?” she asked, keeping her eyes on the dance floor.

  “As happy as I can be.”

  There were so many more questions she wanted to ask, but she was afraid of the answers.

  Why did he let her go? Did he regret marrying her, since she couldn’t give him the children he wanted? Or did he regret the divorce, dreading living without her the way she dreaded living without him—seeing the sobering truth of her life stretched before her like a vast, empty wasteland?

  Servers began bringing out chafing dishes filled with food, which meant breakfast would be served shortly. This was her cue to leave, to escape this conversation that brought her more pain than she wanted to bear at the moment.

  “I’m going to leave.” She rose from the chair and he stood, too.

  “I’m going to stay for breakfast,” he said.

  She’d expected him to. “I’ll say goodbye to Antonella and then catch a cab.”

  “Don’t do that. I’ll call Joachim and have him take you home.” He reached into his pocket for his cell phone.

  “I’m one person. If I take the car, what about you and Antonella and—”

  “We’ll be fine.” He waved away her concern. “There are enough cars among us all that everyone can get home with no problem.”

  “It doesn’t make sense—”

  “Take the car, Nadine!”

  Her head tipped back at his heated response.

  “Just…take it.”

  “All right,” she mumbled.

  Without another word, she walked away from him and went in search of Antonella. She craned her neck and finally saw their daughter, dancing in the corner with Gabriela. Two of their male cousins danced with them.