“If you could go, please, I need to compose myself before seeing Max and Emilia. They don’t know anything about this yet.”
“They’re going to be crushed,” Diego said, shaking his head. “Don’t do this to them.”
The children were her weak spot. She would do anything for them, but she also knew that to stay would mean it being more difficult in the long run. This wouldn’t be forgotten, and they were too innocent to be caught in the middle.
“I’m sorry, Diego.” She went to the door and opened it, then waited for him to leave.
“I’ll go—for now. But we’ll talk later, Rose. This isn’t over. I’ve waited too long for you to let you go now.”
She closed the door behind him, then rested her head on it briefly.
She didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want to resign and go home with her tail between her legs. What she wanted, deep down, was the fairy tale. She wanted what had been just within her grasp the night of the ball. A future with Diego. To be a part of his family, and see the children every day, and perhaps . . . oh, perhaps, to have a few of her own someday. For approximately an hour and a half, she’d allowed herself the luxury of dreams. And perhaps that was what no one understood. She had never been a dreamer, and this was why. The inevitable, horrible thud when the dream came crashing down.
But for now, for this moment, there was a boy and a girl next door, waiting to play, and read, and have messy snacks and faces washed and all the regular routine they were used to. Ceci would want her to shield them from all of this. And so she would. The only way she knew how. By doing her job.
* * *
Diego marched into Raoul’s office, not even pausing to say hello to Stephani. Raoul looked up, startled, as Diego shut the door and strode forward to the desk.
“What in the hell?”
Raoul’s eyebrow instantly shot up into the air. “Calm down and tell me what the problem is. And welcome home.”
Diego sat on the edge of the chair and fidgeted, his knee bouncing up and down at a rapid pace. “I went to see Rose this morning. She resigned? And you let her?”
“The second news story affected her deeply. It also allowed us to figure out who was feeding the press. We called you back from Africa because we thought you’d like to deal with it personally.”
Diego heard the last part but pushed it aside for a moment. “Are you saying you used Rose as bait? That you used her to set a trap, and the hell with the consequences?” The very idea made him feel sick to his stomach.
“The person had to have known her identity. Though there weren’t any guarantees, we suspected whoever took the photo would send another, or leak other information. The second time she was a bit careless, and we got her.”
Diego’s knee had been bouncing nervously, but he halted its movement and stared at Raoul. “She?”
“It was Camila, Diego.”
His assistant. His damn assistant, who had access to all his files, to his personal information . . . his own staff that he trusted implicitly. He’d given her the letter for Rose the morning he’d left for Tanzania. He pushed past the stinging betrayal. “Oh, that explains so much,” he growled. “You haven’t confronted her yet?”
Raoul shook his head. “We’ve kept everything very discreet here. Stephani is the only other one who knows, besides me and father. Camila took the photo and sent it that first night. After you left, we started going through the event staff, looking for a leak. Then we had to look at household staff. Stephani was the first one to suspect. She called a friend of a friend, who knew how to, shall we say, access certain things. Between a lovely deposit in Camila’s bank account and phone records . . .
His own assistant. Camila had been here for three years now. Quiet, good worker, reliable. Why would she do such a thing? If it were just
for the money . . . but to hurt the family in such a manner . . .
“Is she in yet?”
“I don’t know. Don’t fly off the handle, Diego.”
“Don’t fly off the handle? Are you serious?” He got up from the chair and paced for a moment. “I just left Rose. She said she resigned and that it’s over between us. Do you know why? Because I left a damn letter explaining everything with Camila, and it never got delivered. Now I find out that you basically . . . what is the saying Ryan uses? threw her under the bus? And you accepted her resignation? What were you thinking?”
Raoul showed no sign of being upset. He merely met Diego’s gaze evenly. “I was thinking we’d better call you back here so you could have the honor of firing your assistant and start winning back your girl. Nothing’s been done that can’t be fixed.”
Diego stopped pacing and stared at his brother. “What?”
“You and Rose have done nothing wrong, except maybe fall in love, and that’s not wrong, it’s just troublesome. And you didn’t hesitate before coming up with your diversion plan, which, let’s face it, took the spotlight off of what was happening here. It also took your efforts to legitimize yourself and flushed them down the proverbial toilet. You took one for the family, Diego. For me. The least I could do was give you the pleasure of taking out the trash and winning back the girl.”
The speech was so unexpected that Diego realized his mouth was hanging open. Then a smile began to blossom on his face. “You think I can win her back?”
“Are you kidding? She was heartbroken while you were gone. Oh, she tried to hide it, but it was easy to see. You explain what happened, and find that letter? She’ll come around. If you want her to,” he added.