The Spaniard's Pleasurable Vengeance

Both men, who had a clearly more cynical view of humanity than the sisters, had expressed caution about Randi telling her story in such a way.

“No.” In profile, Baz’s jaw looked hewn from granite. “I believe if you keep this story going, while you are bound to find supporters, you will end up on the receiving end of more hate and cruelty. It’s unlikely anyone who has written about you in the past will reverse their stand.”

“How can you be so sure of that?”

“Tell me this. Do you think the Madisons will sit back and accept your version of events?” Baz asked, rather than answered. Maybe his question was the answer.

“But I have proof.” The same proof she’d refused to go public with five years ago out of compassion for what the family was already going through.

“And they have a PR machine. You said so yourself.”

“This time I have someone on my side who will help me fight back.” More than one someone. She had her sister. She had Andreas. And Randi’s father and grandparents had always stood up with her.

They just hadn’t had the power and influence to do it with any real effect.

“You cannot expect that of me.” Baz sounded almost panicked, or as panicked as Mr. Cool-Shark-Businessman was likely to get. “I will not be in Portland indefinitely.”

“I wasn’t talking about you.” But now she knew that he would not be one of the people in her corner. And that was fine.

She hadn’t expected anything else. Not really. Hope? Well, that was a drug she knew better than to indulge in.

“Andreas?” Baz asked.

“Yes.” Among others. “He’s my brother by marriage and he told me I’m the family he chose. He’s big on loyalty to family that deserves it, like his wife and me.”

“He can’t prevent the internet trolls from coming out of the woodwork, or the less scrupulous paparazzi from hunting you down.”

“Maybe they’ll attack the Madisons this time.”

“Is that what you really want?”

No, but... “They deserve it! They destroyed my life.”

“The parents, maybe. But the children?” Baz pressed on with that ruthlessness he’d warned her about. “Do you want little Jamie attacked at school because of something his mother did? Isn’t it bad enough he has a mother who could neglect him so shamefully?”

“I... Look... It’s not...” It was no good. Randi had been ignoring the impact her interview might have on the Madisons’ children on purpose. Knowing if she thought about it, she’d never be able to go through with the interview. “I don’t want to hurt Jamie, or his sister.”

“Then you cannot do the interview.”

“But what about me?” she asked painfully. “What about my life? My family? It’s started all over again already. I’m getting awful things posted about me online, news articles full of lies written about the incident five years ago. I can’t just move away and change my name again. There’s too much interest in Andreas and Kayla. There will always be a reporter interested in the story if I don’t tell my side.”

“If you tell your side, you’ll cause a furor of interest, and the story will live much longer with the truth of Tiffany’s shameful neglect. There is another option, you know?”

“No, I don’t know.”

“We can change the story entirely. What if I could convince the Madisons to not only sign a gag order for future commentary on the incident, but also to issue a press release saying they have never blamed you for the tragic, unavoidable accident? If I could ensure their PR machine would not only leave you alone, but also turn their attention toward presenting you in a positive light? Would that work for you? Would it give you what you need?”

“You would do that?” She thought his comment about going back to Spain meant Baz had no interest in getting involved. In any way. “Why would you do that?”

His knuckles turned white from Baz’s grip on the steering wheel. “Because I do not want you to end up more hurt than you already have been.”

Hope blossomed, but then collapsed under reality. “It won’t work. Andreas already tried to reason with Mr. Madison. It didn’t go well.”

Which was an understatement.

“Mr. Madison owes you an apology.”

“That’s what Andreas said.”

“I will make sure you get it. Andreas is good at what he does, but he does not have my experience dealing with situations like this.”

“You have experience with situations like this?” she asked with disbelief.

“Not exactly, but I have three stepmothers and another one about to marry my father. I have learned how to deal with unreasonable and entitled people, getting them to rein in their expectations.”

“You really think you can convince that man to say he’s sorry?” Much less the rest of it.

“I think I can do more than that. I can get a sizable donation for Kayla’s for Kids, a press release from him and his wife deeply regretting the continued media interest in their old tragedy and the gag order I mentioned, naturally.”

He was serious. He really meant it. Baz would use his considerable power and influence to right a wrong that had plagued Randi’s life for five long years. Nothing could undo the trauma she’d endured hitting a child with her car. She hadn’t been able to drive for two years afterward, but if he could stop the piranhas from circling, that would be amazing.

Relief poured through Randi and she realized in that moment how much she truly hadn’t wanted to do the interview. “If you think it will work, I’ll do it.”

“You’ll cancel the interview?” He sounded relieved all out of proportion.

Maybe he did care. At least a little.

“After I get an apology, the press release goes out and they sign the gag order.” She wasn’t a complete pushover, no matter how much she didn’t want to see Jamie and his sister forced to deal with the aftermath of the interview.

“Give me twenty-four hours.”

He thought he could get it accomplished that quickly? She only hoped Baz was right. “I can’t believe you’re doing this for me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

She didn’t have an answer for him, other than the fact that they had sex, not a relationship. “Are you always this helpful to women you date casually?” she asked by way of an answer.

“What we have is—” He stopped abruptly, looking startled by what he was about to say. Baz cleared his throat. “Casual, yes, but that does not mean I cannot do this small thing for you.”

“Trust me. Dealing with Carl Madison is not a small thing.”

“For you, maybe. For me? Sí, lo es.”

Yes, it is, she internally translated and smiled. “For a corporate mega shark, you sure have a white-knight complex going on.”

He grimaced. “I assure you, I am no white knight.”

Her smile did not dim. It was kind of sweet how he didn’t want her to think he was that guy when he so obviously was.

The executive condo he was staying in was in a multistory brick building on one of the pretty tree-lined streets near the downtown center. Baz pulled his luxury rental into the secure underground parking garage after the liveried attendant opened the gate for them.

Even the elevator up to his floor was swank, the walls paneled in light wood; no flyers for upcoming local events pasted to these walls.

Though there was a brass plaque informing residents that the concierge would be happy to help them find entertainment or dining options as well as anything else they might require.

A condo complex with a concierge? Now, that was upscale.

They took the elevator to the top floor. Of course. The doors swished open to an elegant but modern foyer, a square settee on one wall, a console table flanked by two chairs and topped with a vase of lilies on the opposite. Everything in shades of creams and bro

wns, it had a peaceful vibe and she could imagine visitors for the residents waiting here comfortably. Four corridors led off from the space to what she assumed were entrances to each corner penthouse apartment.

“Finally!” A demanding and oddly familiar voice shattered the peace of the space. “Where the hell have you been? You haven’t answered any of my calls, Baz. That is not acceptable.”

Although she couldn’t yet see the man, standing as she was on the other side of Baz, Randi now recognized the voice coming from the corridor on their right and it sent ice through her veins.

Carl Madison.

CHAPTER SEVEN

WHAT IN THE world was Carl Madison doing here and why was he berating Baz? Had Randi’s temporary lover already instigated talks on her behalf with the awful man?

And why did he think he could call Basilio by the more familiar nickname, Baz?

“Carl, what the hell are you doing here?” Baz asked with undisguised fury.