“At first, I believe so. But I don’t want to talk about Romeo and Juliet. Would you like some coffee?”
“Yes, please.” He’d grown up with servants, but Fatima was far more than a housekeeper to Ana, and she might know important things he didn’t. She was dressed in a navy blue dress, probably the one she’d worn to church. They took chairs at the dining table rather than move into the living room, and she brought a plate of lemon cookies along with the coffee mugs.
“These are Ana’s favorites.”
“Give me a bag, and I’ll take some to her.”
The housekeeper studied him closely. “You look as though you haven’t slept. Now tell me the truth. How is Ana?”
She was right—he hadn’t slept more than an hour or two last night, if that. The coffee was the best he’d tasted since his last visit there. He reached for a cookie. “I don’t think she likes being fussed over.”
“No, not at all. Now stop stalling.”
He smiled at her gentle scolding. “She can’t remember the accident.” He gave her a brief summary of Ana’s injuries and didn’t make them sound less serious than they were. “It’s going to be a long while before she can walk a runway. Makeup artists will be able to cover the scar on her cheek, but by the time she’s well, she could have lost interest in modeling.”
Fatima pulled a tissue from her pocket and wiped the tears from her eyes. “This is just so awful and unfair. She’s such a good person, she really is.” Romeo jumped up on a chair and onto the table. She brushed him off. “The kittens are incorrigible.”
“Of course they are; they’re cats. I won’t tell you not to worry, but Ana is receiving the best of care. When she’s able to leave the hospital, I plan to take her on a cruise. She’ll be much happier on board one of our ships than in a rehab facility, or here watching her favorite movie videos over and over.”
Fatima offered a faint smile. “You really care for her, don’t you?”
It was easy to admit. “Yes, I do, but we haven’t been seeing each other long. Is there someone else she’s also been dating who’d like to know how she’s doing?”
Fatima’s posture stiffened. She drew in a long breath and exhaled slowly. “Ana sees just one man at a time, Mr. Vasquez. She doesn’t juggle her time between lovers.”
He reached for her hand, but she pulled away. “I didn’t mean to insult you, or Ana. She’s a beautiful woman, and I thought she might have other men who cared for her.”
She looked away. “She’s not been seeing anyone since Miguel Aragon died last summer. She adored him. I met him once when he came by to pick her up, and he had, well, I suppose magnetism is the word. He was such a handsome man, and when he spoke to you, he made you feel as though you were the only person in the universe. Santos has his looks, but I doubt he can work the same magic with women.”
Uncertain whether to be proud or appalled he had to be the father of Ana’s child, he shifted in his chair. He knew he ought to confide in Fatima and admit to a sham marriage, and the real stunner, that Ana was pregnant, but since yesterday afternoon, things were moving too fast, and he couldn’t find the words. “Would you please pack a suitcase for Ana for the cruise? She’d be able to wear long skirts and tops. I don’t think she’d want her short dresses. I’ll ask her when she’s ready to leave the hospital to be sure, but you probably know what she’ll need.”
“I’ll have everything ready. A cruise will be a good thing for her. Being on the sea will keep her from worrying too much about missing work.”
“I hope so.” He thanked her for the coffee and cookies and took some for Ana.
Ana was certain she ought to remember getting married, and she twisted the new gold ring on her finger. She liked Alejandro so much, and thought she might have married him and agreed to keep it a secret for a while. Perhaps they’d not wanted to announce the marriage while a murder investigation swirled around her. Wishing there was something more than a billowing fog in her brain, she struggled to recall details of her childhood and go from there. There had been pretty clothes, bright lights and cameras, but there had been so many years of the same routine, she couldn’t separate one from the other. Her mother had kept a diary. She was sorry she hadn’t had one of her own.
When Alejandro returned in early evening carrying a takeout bowl of vegetable stew, she was as elated as she could be with every part of her body aching. “Thank you, that smells so good. Clearly there are benefits to marrying you.”
“Thank you. Few women can be seduced with vegetables, but I’m doing my best.”
She couldn’t see his face clearly, but thought he must be smiling. She slurped the stew from the container rather than fumble with the spoon. “Was I no challenge at all for you?”
“You were a challenge in every respect. A major point might have been that I’m taller than you.”
“Are you calling me shallow?”
He pulled the visitor chair to her bedside. “Not at all. Can you remember when we met at El Gato?”
She closed her eyes to focus. “Wasn’t I in my Goth Girl outfit?”
“Yes, and I didn’t discover who you really were for, well, a while.”
Before she’d eaten half the stew, she couldn’t swallow another drop. “Do you want to finish this? It’s really good, but I’m full.”
“I brought some of Fatima’s lemon cookies. Would you like one?”
She reached out her hand. “You went to see her? Is she frantic over this?”