Читать книгу Escape to Paradise - Pamela Yaye - Страница 11

Chapter 4

This is paradise, Claudia decided, stepping out of the green Volkswagen taxi and drinking in the lush scenery of the Sea of Cortez Resort. Tranquility showered over her, filled her with such peace that the tension radiating through her body began to subside. If everything I read in that travel book is true I may never leave!

Nestled on golden sands that stretched for miles, the five-building structure drenched in white and gold was a lavish display of luxury and wealth. Designed to reflect the rich heritage of the Mexican culture, the Sea of Cortez Resort had been constructed with such historic flair, it stood out from the dozens of other hotels along the Tourist Corridor.

Two uniformed men with bodies like Chippendale dancers appeared at her side. One placed a cocktail glass in her hand while the other scooped up her lone travel bag. “Deje todo para trás y escape al paraíso!”

Claudia didn’t know what they said, but did it matter when they sounded dreamy and smelled like tropical fruit? Deciding it didn’t, she hitched herself to her attractive escorts. Wishing she’d paid more attention during her high school Spanish classes, she strung together the few sentences she knew and hoped for the best. “Gracias tanto. Usted es el más amable.”

“It is my pleasure to serve you, señorita. Now leave everything behind and escape to paradise,” one of the men said in a deep, silky baritone. “Your adventure awaits!”

That’s music to my ears, she thought, discreetly cleaning the dots of perspiration along her hairline. Carrying the scent of the water lilies floating in the pond, the evening wind blew hot and fast against her sweaty skin. To quench her thirst, Claudia sipped from the pink, candy-flavored straw. The lemon tickled her taste buds, and the combination of tequila and grenadine packed a powerful punch. Navigating her way through Cabo’s bustling airport had been an exercise in stamina and patience, and after a forty-minute wait for a taxi an ice-cold cocktail was just what the doctor ordered.

“¿Puedo despertar su interés en otro Amanecer de Cortez?”

Claudia blinked, and when her escort traded her empty glass for a new one, she smiled sheepishly. Then gulped it down in ten seconds flat. Knocking back cocktails wasn’t the answers to her problems, but they sure did taste good!

Lit by the warm glow of tiki torches, the cobbled pathway flowed through wide arches and spilled on to manicured lawns rimmed with leafy bushes. Claudia felt like she was walking through the pearly gates. Palm trees waved their arms in greeting, sunshine rained down from the sky and the scent rising from the garden was more intoxicating than the cocktails she’d downed.

The glass doors slid open, revealing an atrium drenched in bright, vibrant colors. High ceilings, topped with mosaic tiles, filtered in natural sunlight and created the sensation of still being outdoors. Oozing with charm, the main floor lobby featured bronze chandeliers dripping with crystals, oil paintings on crimson walls, and velvet couches that looked cozy enough to sleep on. Or cuddle on. And couples were doing just that. It was almost nine o’clock in the evening, but the resort was teeming with life and activity. Everywhere Claudia turned guests were laughing, chatting and living it up.

Grateful to her escorts, she generously tipped them and joined the line in front of the reception desk. While Claudia waited, she retrieved her wallet and selected two pieces of ID. Traveling had exhausted her, and she was anxious to see the oceanfront suite Maxine had bragged about. She only hoped it was available. If not, she’d just stay in another room because there was no way she was shacking up with Mr. Ram Truck.

“Buenas noches, señorita. Bienvenido a la Estación de Mar de Cortez. ¿Cómo le puedo ayudar?”

Claudia offered a weak smile. She hoped the concierge spoke English, because the little Spanish she knew wasn’t enough to carry her through check-in. Before she could speak, he asked for her last name. Relieved that she wouldn’t have to break out her travel book, she inquired about Suite 97. “Is it available?”

“Yes, Ms. Jefferies, it is.”

Claudia wanted to jump for joy, but smiled instead.

“Is this your first time in Cabo San Lucas?” he asked, punching the necessary information into the computer. “Or are you a regular?”

“I was in Mexico many years ago, but I’ve never been to Cabo before.”

He held up her passport, intently studied her picture. “How long will you be staying with us, Ms. Jeffries?”

“I’m not sure,” she told him. “Probably a month.”

“That’s wonderful! Four weeks is more than enough time to see Cabo and the surrounding cities as well. Might I make a few recommendations of things to do?”

Claudia knew he was just doing his job—making conversation to speed along the process—but after a day filled with delays and disappointments she didn’t have energy for small talk. “No thanks. It’s been a long day and I’m really looking forward to relaxing in my suite.”

“I understand, Ms. Jeffries. All I need is a credit card to cover the incidentals, and then you can be on your way.”

Nodding, she unzipped her wallet and handed over her Platinum MasterCard.

“For an additional fee you can add a Luxury Services package to your stay. It features twenty-four-hour housekeeping, private butler service and unlimited access to our world-class spa for the low, low price of only five hundred dollars.”

Claudia’s mouth hit the limestone counter. Did she look like a sucker? Instead of laughing in the concierge’s face, she said, “I think I’ll pass.”

“Very well. You can always add the service later if you change your mind.” The computer beeped, and the smile slid off his face. “I’m sorry, Ms. Jeffries, but there seems to be a problem. Your credit card has been declined.”

“What?” Shame burned Claudia’s cheeks, made her body so hot she could start a forest fire. “That’s impossible. I’m nowhere near the limit.”

“Have you made any large purchases in the last few hours? Sometimes that may cause—”

“There must be a problem with your system. Swipe it again.”

He did, and this time the computer beeped twice. “I’m sorry. It still won’t go through.”

Hoping no one had witnessed her humiliation, Claudia peeked over her shoulder. Three suit-clad men holding briefcases stood behind her, dead quiet. They were listening in and were every bit as annoying as those pesky reporters who’d made themselves at home on her front lawn.

Hanging her head, she shielded her face with her hands. What if one of them recognized her and alerted the press? She could see the headlines now:

Claudia Jeffries-Prescott spotted in Cabo San Lucas!

Ex-wife of disgraced CEO can’t pay bills!

Investors forced to eat in soup kitchens while Prescotts party at world-class resort!

“Do you have another credit card I can charge?”

Claudia dodged the question. “I don’t understand what’s going on. I’ve been using this credit card all day,” she confessed, pushing out a breath of frustration. “I’ll have to call MasterCard and have them straighten this mess out.”

He gestured to the end of the counter. “Please, use our house phone.”

“Now?” Claudia checked her watch. Nine thirty-seven. No way she was calling MasterCard at this time of night. Forget that. She’d sooner sleep in the lobby than subject herself to an hour-long wait. “I don’t plan to order room service or eat from the mini bar, so having my credit card on file is not necessary.”

The concierge reared back like he’d been burned with scalding water. Claudia read his facial expression, saw the veins stretched tight in his neck and the lines of doubt etched in his forehead. He didn’t trust her any more than those detectives did back in Richmond.

“I simply cannot check you in without a valid credit card, Ms. Jeffries.” He must have heard the harshness in his tone, because he softened his voice. “We’re not supposed to take cash to cover the cost of the incidentals, but I’m willing to do it to help you out. There’s an ATM machine to the right of the guest services booth and…”

Claudia strangled a groan. Even if she had the energy to walk back through the lobby—which she didn’t—thanks to the SEC she didn’t have access to her bank accounts. And her emergency fund account, which she’d wisely registered in Aunt Hattie’s name years earlier, was accessible only through commercial banking. “Can we straighten this out in the morning? I’ve been traveling for the last eight hours, and I’m exhausted.”

A voluptuous brunette, who looked like she’d been stuffed into her tangerine-colored uniform, appeared beside the concierge. “Is there a problem, Luis?”

He spoke quietly, in rapid-fire Spanish.

A minute passed. Then two. Were they still talking about her credit card problems or their plans for the weekend? Claudia wished she spoke Spanish, or knew someone who could help her out of this mess. I should have taken that Santiago guy’s business card, she thought, mentally berating herself for insulting him and fleeing the airport lounge without his number. It wasn’t every day that a perfect stranger bought her lunch, and the Mexican native was sincere and charming. He seemed like the kind of man who made things happen and got things done.

“Registering guests without proper documentation is against company policy,” the woman explained in precise English. “And doing so could result in disciplinary action for the both of us.”

“I understand that, and once I straighten everything out with the credit card company tomorrow I’ll pass that information on to you.”

“I’ll go speak with my supervisor and see if there’s something we can do.”

Claudia read the woman’s name tag. “Thank you, Rosario. I greatly appreciate it.”

“I’ll be a few minutes. Make yourself comfortable in the reception area and I’ll come get you when I’m done.”

In spite of her outward show of calm, Claudia was nervous and scared. Fighting against feelings of despair, she picked up her bag and carried herself over to the lounge. A stiff drink would come in handy right now, she thought, wishing the tray-carrying bellhop was still around. What more could go wrong today? Six months ago, she’d been paid handsomely to plan a magical destination wedding for colleagues turned soul mates, Niveah Evans and Damien Hunter, and now she had more money woes than the late King of Pop.

Claudia took a moment to collect herself. Going to another resort tonight was out of the question, so she’d just have to convince the resort manager to let her stay. What was it Maxine had said? Smile, giggle and flash a bit of cleavage if you have to! Claudia hated playing the beauty card, especially because she always felt as inept as the forty-third president addressing the Senate, but if flirting would get her out of the lobby and into that luxury suite she’d channel her inner sex goddess and charm the man’s socks off.

Santiago poked his head into the staff lounge, and when he saw his mother lift the sofa love seat and vacuum underneath it, a frown creased his lips. Curiosity drew Santiago inside the room. Tilting his head to the side, he pensively stroked the length of his jaw. His mother’s energy level wasn’t the only thing that shocked him. Her midsection was flat, and she had arms that would make Wonder Woman jealous.

Santiago watched in stunned disbelief as his mom made quick work of cleaning the lounge. Something smelled fishy, and the odor wasn’t coming from the aquarium.

“You’re here!” Ana Medina switched off the vacuum. Dropping the handle, she shot across the room and threw her arms around her son. “Welcome home, Tiago!”

Santiago chuckled and returned her hug. “Thanks, Mom. It’s good to see you.”

“When did you get in?”

“About an hour ago. I dropped my bags off in the office, then came looking for you. Why are you cleaning?”

“We’re short-staffed today, and I couldn’t stand to see this room dirty any longer. Just because we own the resort doesn’t mean I can’t do our part to help out.”

“And you wonder where I get my tireless work ethic from,” he teased, winking at her.

“Enough about work. Stand still and let me get a good look at you.” Slipping off her eyeglasses, she studied him for a long, hard minute. “You get more handsome each year. That’s hard to believe considering you live in such a wickedly cold place. And a violent one, too.”

Santiago hid a smile. “Can I at least have something to eat before you start in on me?”

“I have a pot of salsa simmering at home as we speak,” she explained, her voice filled with cheer. “I’m making all your favorites tonight. Pea soup, Spanish rice, and beef enchiladas.”

“You’re supposed to be taking it easy.” He watched her, saw how she dodged his gaze and shifted her feet. “Has the hospital finally confirmed the date and time for your surgery?”

Ana clutched his hands. “Great news, Tiago! The surgery’s been cancelled. Most of my symptoms have disappeared and the few that remain are quite minor.”

“Is that so?”

“I decided to try some of the things my doctor suggested, and I’ve been getting stronger each day. I take ginseng three times a day, quit drinking alcohol and started cooking healthier, low-calorie meals, too.”

“Exactly how much weight have you lost?”

She shrugged and stared down at the sleek tiled floor. “Just a little.”

“How much?” he pressed, crossing his arms. “Ten? Fifteen? Twenty pounds?”

“Twenty-seven, give or take.”

Santiago clamped his lips together to trap a curse inside. “You were never scheduled to have abdominal surgery, were you? That was just a ploy to get me down here, wasn’t it?”

“Of course not!” The words shot out of her mouth with more force than a bullet from a gun. Anger crimped her features, but her tone was soft. “I would never lie about something as serious as that. I was scared about going under the knife, so I changed my entire lifestyle.”

“It’s hard to believe you lost almost thirty pounds by just altering your diet.”

“Tiago, don’t be ridiculous! The weight didn’t just vanish. I’ve been working my tush off!” Her smile was proud. “I’ve been swimming and hiking and playing a little squash.”

“You’re exercising?” Santiago dropped his hands on his waist like an exasperated father about to scold his child. “Who are you? And what have you done with my mother?”

Laughter bubbled out from her lips. “Now that your father’s overseeing the construction of the new golf resort in Acapulco, I have more time to try new things.”

“I’m glad you’re feeling better, Mom. I just wish you would’ve told me your surgery was cancelled sooner.”

“I only found out yesterday,” she said, with a shrug of her shoulders.

Santiago didn’t believe her, but he wasn’t stupid enough to call his mother a liar.

“I’m glad you’re here, Tiago. I was convinced you’d forgotten all about me.”

He tossed his head back and had a good laugh. “Right, like you’d ever let that happen.”

“Your father and I have missed you dearly, son.”

Deep down, Santiago knew only half of what his mother said was true, but he inquired about his dad anyway. “How’s he doing?” To expunge the bitter taste in his mouth, he swallowed hard. “Is he still dead set against attending counseling with you?”

“Yes, he said hearing other people’s stories of loss only compounds his grief.”

“Figures. Dad’s never been one to share his feelings.”

“That’s why I need you around, Tiago. You’re the only one who understands what I’m going through, and the only person I can talk to when I’m feeling down.”

“Is he still drinking?”

Ana shook her head, diverted her gaze. “He hardly touches the stuff anymore. Honestly, I can’t remember the last time he had a drink.”

Sure you don’t. He saw the truth in her eyes, saw the flicker of hurt that flashed across her face. His dad was still a raging alcoholic, and knowing that he was the cause of his father’s downward spiral made Santiago feel sick with guilt.

“When are you going to move home and help me run the resort?”

“When you stop throwing your friends’ daughters at me.”

Mrs. Medina slipped an arm around her son’s waist. “Find yourself a nice girl from a nice Mexican family and I will!”

Santiago chuckled when his mom wagged her finger at him. Then, she sighed dramatically and launched into her famous I-want-grandchildren-before-I-die speech. The one she repeated faithfully every week. To get his mother off his back, he considered telling her about Claudia, but thought better of it. Besides, what would he say? Hey, Mom, I met a stunningly beautiful woman at the airport who I felt an instant connection to, but I stupidly chased her off.

While his mother talked, he replayed every minute of his conversation with Claudia in his mind. He wondered where she was and what she was doing. Was she reclining by the pool at her hotel? Or fighting off the men at the bar while she sipped her drink? No doubt about that. He’d seen firsthand the kind of attention she drew, saw how grown men tripped and stumbled over themselves in her presence. Not that he blamed them. Claudia had it all—flawless skin that had a soft, natural glow, eyes that penetrated, and an endearing shyness that made him want to protect her, hold her, take her in his arms and make everything wrong in her life better.

“I’m just not ready to take that step,” he admitted, hoping to put an end to her complaints once and for all. “I’ll get married and have kids in God’s time and not a moment sooner.”

His mother sniffed, rubbed her fingertips slowly under her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t. It’s just, now that your sister’s gone, you’re all I have left. And it kills me only seeing you once or twice a year.” Wearing a sad smile, she patted his cheeks as if he was a little boy rather than a grown man. “It would mean the world to me if you returned home.”

Hearing the anguish in his mother’s voice made Santiago feel lower than the gecko slithering outside the window. He cleared his throat, but the burning in his chest only intensified. The stench of his guilt was stifling, thicker than smoke, and suddenly the staff lounge felt smaller than an airplane bathroom.

“I promised your father I wouldn’t say anything, but if I have to speak my mind—”

“Ramón, there’s a problem out front I need you to take care of.” The female clerk standing in the doorway bowed slightly. “I apologize for interrupting, Señora Medina, but I was wondering if you’ve seen Ramón. I can’t find him anywhere.”

“Tomorrow’s his daughter’s Quinceañera, so I let him go early,” she explained, waving her inside. “Rosario, there’s someone special I’d like you to meet.”

Knowing what was coming next, Santiago braced himself for impact. He only prayed his mother wouldn’t ask the clerk out on his behalf. The last time she did, he’d been tricked into escorting a chatty fashion designer to a black-tie event.

“This very handsome, very single young man is my son, Santiago. He’ll be returning to Cabo soon to take over running the resort, and I’m depending on you and the rest of the staff to show him how things are done around here.”

Santiago frowned. Moving back to Cabo? To run the family business? No way, no how. There were too many memories, too much pain. And every time he saw the hate in his father’s eyes he was reminded of that tragic summer night. It was hard enough waking up each morning as it was; he didn’t need a daily reminder of what a screw-up he was, too.

“I’ll try my best, Señora Medina.”

“Now, what’s going on out front? You look upset.” Ana stuck a hand on her hip. “It’s not that South African diplomat again, is it? That horny old man is testing my patience, and if he propositions another female maid I’m tossing him out on his rear!”

Rosario explained the source of her troubles. “I feel bad for Ms. Jeffries, but I’m apprehensive about granting her request. The last time I allowed a couple to stay in a suite without a valid credit card, they pilfered the mini bar and trashed the room.”

“I remember. That’s why we revised our check-in policies last year,” Ana said with a fervent nod. “How long is she planning to stay?”

“A month.”

“I see. All right, let her pay in cash to cover the cost of the incidentals.”

“I suggested that,” Rosario explained. “She refused.”

“If she doesn’t have a hundred dollars in her bank account, then how can she afford to stay here for a month?”

“I was wondering the same thing.”

“I’ll get to the bottom of this.” Ana stepped forward, then swiveled around and grabbed Santiago’s arm. “On second thought, you go handle it. It’s about time you got your feet wet, and what better way to get acquainted with our policies than by manning the front desk?”

“This is not exactly my area of expertise,” he pointed out, taking a giant step back. “I’m a business consultant, not a hotel manager. I don’t know the first thing about operating a resort.”

“Don’t worry. Rosario will be right there to help you.” Ana pecked his cheek. “I’m going home to finish dinner, but I’ll see you in an hour.”

A wave and she was gone, fleeing the lounge at breakneck speed.

Rosario laughed. “Your mom is quite the woman.”

“You can say that again.”

“Shall we go?”

Santiago nodded and reluctantly followed the brunette down the hall. He’d only arrived an hour ago, but his mother had already duped him twice. God help me, he prayed, releasing a tortured sigh, because at this rate she’ll have me married off by the end of the week!