I glance up at Santiago, whose eyes meet mine in surprise. For one brief moment, so quickly I almost miss it, there’s warmth and curiosity in those eyes instead of the cool aloofness he adopts more readily. Then the moment passes and his gaze shutters once more. He holds my eyes as he sips his sample. Those lips. Those full, gorgeous, sinful lips —
“Your mother,” I repeat, trying to hide the panic in my voice as I look back to her and Prince makes a louder, more insistent yip.
Shit.
But the wheels are spinning, and I’m trying to get an idea of what we’re dealing with.
What does Santiago have to do with this girl? The case of a disappearing mother is never a promising start. He isn’t her father, I know that much. I’ve perused every article online I could find about him, and everyone knows he’s single and doesn’t have any children.
Unless the media’s planted all that so there’s hope for the rest of us.
“What else can you tell me?”
Antonia starts where I don’t expect her to, by jerking her thumb over her shoulder. “He’s my uncle.”
“Yip yip YIP!”
I swing my eyes back to his. He sighs and nods, and I swear my nipples perk up. I have to get a grip on my raging hormones. It would help if he didn’t sip that smoothie sample with such seductive flair.
There’s a story there, and I need to find out what it is. With effort, I shake off the sexual tension vibe and focus on what’s most important right now, but first…
“Just a minute,” I say. With a sigh, I open the little closet door where Prince is ensconced in his nap time crate. He leaps to his feet and wags his whole butt and I melt a little, like I do every time he treats me like a celebrity.
Ignoring Santiago’s groan, I open the crate and Antonia gives a little squeal. “You have a dog!”
“Meet Prince,” I say with a grin.
“What kind of a dog is he?”
Prince intuitively knows Antonia needs a little attention, so he scoots on over to her and hops right up into her lap.
“He’s a shih tzu.”
Antonia’s eyes grow wide. “You called him a swear word!”
I look helplessly at Santiago, whose lips look like they’re twitching and he’s doing his level best to stay all stern and commanding.
It’s a look that suits him well, I’m not complaining.
Then Prince sees him, and his body goes rigid.
Uh oh. He starts to growl, then to my utter horror, lunges himself right off Antonia’s lap and bolts toward Santiago.
Santiago scowls, snaps his fingers, and orders in that commanding baritone, “No. Down.”
He points to the floor.
And to my utter shock, Prince lies down and obeys his command.
Not that I blame him. I’m kind of surprised I’m not lying on the floor myself.
Ask me again, big guy.
I give myself a mental shake and focus back on Antonia.
“Antonia,” I say gently. “You are correct that I do take on private investigations and the occasional case.” I ignore Miguel’s eye roll and make a vow to ask Madison to add the “smooth move” regularity supplement to his next smoothie. Double dose. “But we don’t deal with cases of missing people,” I finish.
Never have. They’re far too complicated, personal and, sadly, rarely end happily. “There are cases we take and there are cases for the police. This case is one that would be better handled by the police.”
She resolutely shakes her head and crosses her arms. “Nope. They can’t help me. You have to.”
I look back to Santiago involuntarily.
He frowns. “I can’t help either. This is the first I’ve heard of this. Antonia’s just come into my care recently.”
She rolls her eyes. “What he means is, he’s got” —she pauses to make air quotes— “‘important business’ to do, so I stay with Winnie while he’s away and he’s got a nanny for me.”
“Actually, three,” he bites out. “She’s gone through three in as many days.”
I look from her to him, then back to her again. “Why three nannies?”
She shrugs. “I was testing them out.”
Oh, God. She makes me want to hug her. Seriously, whereas other people might find challenging children off-putting, I feel a kinship with this girl. She’s intelligent. Misunderstood. Hurt.
Just like I was.
I was that girl with a too-big vocabulary, eyes magnified by heavy lenses, eschewed by her peers… on the hunt to find her mother.
Only my story ended in heartache.
I make a vow right then, right there, that hers won’t.
I hope I don’t regret this.
“We’ll discuss the nannies later,” I say to her. And we will. Running off nannies isn’t cool. But for now, I need to at least hear her story. “Tell me everything you know.”
Chapter 4
Miguel
I glance at my watch again. I don’t have time for this shit, but I also can’t seem to drag myself away. I tell myself it’s because if I’m going to take this place down, I might as well find out everything I can before I do.