CHAPTER FIVE
KATY
Well, there went the million dollars for Conchilla. Katy couldn’t have done worse representing the people she loved. Her temper had gotten the better of her.
She walked back to the Paredes’s home, feeling despondent. She’d failed her friends. She would take the fifteen-hour bus ride and arrive with her gifts, only to assuage their needs temporarily.
What they really needed was a million dollars.
But they wouldn’t get it from that misguided Marcus James.
She nodded and took a deep breath. She might have been a bit of a brat, but Marcus had shown his true colors.
Mama Muni met her at the door.
Katy tried to smile, but her host mom was too sensitive.
“Why so sad?” she asked.
Katy hugged her, sighing. “I was kind of mean to someone.”
“Kindomean?”
Katy tried to explain in her broken Spanish but eventually gave up. She smiled and made a heart shape with her fingers over her chest.
“Ah,” Mama Muni said. “Amor.”
“Sí.” Katy nodded. “Por Conchilla.”
A shadow passed over Mama Muni’s eyes. “The poor people of Conchilla,” she said in Spanish.
Katy nodded.
Even with her friend’s commiseration, however, Katy still felt guilty over dinner. Marcus James had come all the way from New York to meet the people of Conchilla to see if they deserved the help.
Maybe she could write him an email, apologizing. Yes, that was it. She would apologize, and they could still be considered for the prize.
She bit her lip. She’d have to look up his email online. Or she could try to find out where he was staying in Antigua.
Better send him the email. She couldn’t imagine trying to talk to him again. He’d probably already taken a helicopter back to the States.
That silly helicopter ride.
She sighed.
Thanking Mama Muni for the excellent dinner of pepian stew with rice, she got up and sat in the living room. Waking her phone, she looked up Marcus James online.
Billionaire. CEO of Gemstone Enterprises, based in New York City, New York. Inherited the company from his father, but he grew it into what it is today. Owns shares in mines in Africa and Mongolia. Has a mining partnership with the Principality of Mondragón off the coast of Spain. Widower.
Widower?
That was a surprise. She’d assumed he was married with children. He seemed so young still.
Scrolling through the articles, one headline caught her eye.
Billionaire loses wife and unborn child to drunk driver crash Christmas Day.
The article was dated five years ago.
Suddenly his cynicism over the holiday, his bitterness, his unhappiness—everything—made sense.
She read the headline again. Tears pricked her eyes. The poor, poor man.
Someone knocked on the front door, and Mama Muni went to answer it. She returned shortly with a woman whom Katy recognized as a hotel operator near Plaza Mayor.
Mama Muni told Katy in Spanish, “Americano needs help.”
“Quien?” Katy asked. Who?
“Marcus Santiago.”
Katy frowned. Marcus? The billionaire Marcus? His last name was James.
Duh. Which translated to Tiago in Spanish.
“What about him?” she asked, fearing the worst.
“He is very sick.” Mama Muni pointed to her friend. “But she no speak English. He need translator.”