Chapter 7
“What do you keep talking with your sister about?” Donovan asked, leaning back against the headboard and pulling Araceli between his legs and against his broad chest.
His hands snuck around to cup her breasts and she closed her eyes in pleasure. No matter how many times they had sex, she always wanted more of him. From the fact that he usually couldn’t keep his hands off of her, she assumed that he felt the same way.
They’d been seeing each other every night for the whole week and she was really not looking forward to him having to leave. He hadn’t told her when it would be, so she was starting to think that he didn’t want to go. Which admittedly made her feel great.
“Oh, the family reunion,” she said, realizing that she hadn’t answered his question. “It’s actually a combined family reunion and ninetieth birthday party for my grandfather.”
“Ninety?” Donovan repeated in surprise.
“Yes,” Ara said with pride. “And he’s still healthy as a horse. We wanted to do something big for him, so we decided on this. We’ve been planning the idea for about a year now. And when I say “we” I mean Silvia.”
“You don’t help with that?”
Araceli laughed, that sweet musical laugh he’d come to love. “Not my forte. However, I did figure out how much beer, wine, and soda we need. Several thousand gallons of each should be just enough.”
“How many of you are there?”
“Oh, it’s been a really long time since I counted us all up. Let’s see. My great grandparents had 10 children...”
“Ten?”
“Yes. One of those is my Abuelo Francisco, who the party is for. He and Abuela had five children. Most of those had at least two...in my branch of the family there are about twenty. And there are nine other branches of at least that many...” She trailed off, laughing at his shock. “So 200 people is a conservative estimate. And that’s without including significant others.”
“So we’re talking nearly 400 hundred people?”
“Some of them won’t show,” she said with a shrug. “And some are single or divorced or whatever...but yeah, we’re in that ballpark.”
“You can’t possibly know all of them,” Donovan said. “I mean...there’s no way that you can be that close.”
“Why not?” she asked.
“Because there are 400 hundred of you!”
“Hand me my phone,” she ordered.
Donovan reached over to the nightstand and watched as she pulled up her facebook app.
“We’re going to take a little tour of my family,” Ara said with a smile. “It’s guaranteed to be less intimidating than meeting them all in person.”
She typed in her sister’s name. “This is Silvia Vasquez-Forman.”
“You two look a lot alike,” Donovan said, looking at the woman in the picture. “The same smile.”
“Thanks,” Ara said happily. “She’s six years older than me and I worshipped her from the minute I was born. I thought that she was the most beautiful girl in the world and I wanted to grow up to be just like her.”
“How long did that last?” Donovan asked dryly, thinking of the fact that he hadn’t spoken to his own brother in over five years. He’d once hero worshipped Craig, but it had only lasted a few years.
Ara glanced back at him, her eyes wide with surprise. “It’s ongoing. Now I want her organizational skills and luck in love.”
When her skin flushed, Donovan knew that she hadn’t meant to say that last part. “What makes her so lucky?” he asked.
She typed in another name and a picture of a man appeared. He was tall and lanky and he was smiling good naturedly into the camera. “Thomas Forman. They started dating in ninth grade and got married when they graduated college. He’s the sweetest, steadiest guy a woman could ask for and he loves her like crazy.”
“What about your parents?” Donovan asked, resting his chin on the top of her head.
Another page came up. “They share a Facebook page. Don’t judge them,” she ordered. “This is my dad, Oscar, and my mother Paula.”
“What do they do?”
“My dad runs his own construction company and my mom keeps the books.” Araceli clicked on a picture. “Here we all are at Silvia’s wedding.”
Paula Vasquez was wiping away tears and beaming from ear to ear. Oscar Vasquez, with his arm around his daughter in her white dress, looked proud enough to burst. Araceli, young and slightly gangly, had her face buried in a handkerchief and one hand raised, trying to wave the photographer away. The bride was laughing.
“Looks like a fun time,” Donovan said, more than a little surprised. “Every wedding I’ve ever been to has been so stiff and formal that I was afraid to move.”
She chuckled. “You’ve never been to a Mexican wedding. We throw down.”
She clicked through more and more pictures. “This is my cousin Theresa. Her guacamole is like crack. This is my Aunt Lorna. If you give her enough to drink, she breakdances. She’s actually pretty good. My cousin Juan Pablo...he’s studying to be a priest. My great uncle Saul...he’s only a year younger than Abuelo and just as healthy. He’s not supposed to eat a lot of salt, but he sneaks it in. My aunt Vicky and her husband Bryan...my uncle Hugo and his husband Leo...my cousin Manny...my cousin Claudia...my cousin Blanca...”
“Okay, okay!” Donovan held up his hands in surrender. “I take it back. I don’t know how you do it, but you actually seem to know all of these people.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” she asked, handing her phone off again and settling back against his chest. “They’re family. I know you’ve had some issues with your parents, but what about the rest of your family? Aren’t you close with any of them?”
“There’s no one else to be close with,” he said with a shrug. “My father and his sister don’t get along and my mother was an only child. My brother and I haven’t spoken since I graduated college.”
Ara wheeled around, her mouth dropping open. “You have a brother?”
He shrugged. “Well, as I said, we aren’t close.”
“So who do you spend time with?”
Donovan cupped her face. “You.”
She leaned in, pressing her lips to his. “Besides me,” she whispered, pulling back just a fraction.
“CEO’s.” He kissed her more deeply, pulling back only enough to say, “Accountants.” Another kiss, this one sending sensation through her whole body. “My secretary.” Another kiss. “People with more money than they know what to do with.”
“It all sounds very fulfilling,” she said, her voice throaty as he rolled her underneath him.
He traced her full lips with his thumb, a smile tugging at his mouth. “Speaking of fulfilling...I had an idea. I know how important your work is to you.”
Araceli’s head fell back as he kissed his way down her neck, nipping her just above the collarbone.
“Why don’t you work for me?”
“What?” she whispered, half laughing. “And what would I do for you, Mr. Sutton?”
“I’ll buy the firm and you can run it. Your own branch of Ingram Norman.”
Araceli went cold beneath him. “Excuse me?”
Her voice was like a bucket of ice water. Donovan pulled back to find her dark eyes alight with anger. He sat up when she shoved both hands against his chest.
“What’s wrong?” he asked when she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up.
She spun to face him, too angry to care that she was completely naked. She put her hands on her hips. “You haven’t understood one word of the things I’ve told you about my work, Donovan Sutton. I doubt you’ve even been listening to me at all over these past two weeks!”
“Of course I have!” Donovan said, watching her grab her clothes off of the floor and begin to yank them on. He began to list the things they’d talked about to prove it. “You don’t want to pursue another degree in a different field. You want to stay where you are. You like that you can provide services to people who don’t speak English as a first language. You can do all of that when you work for Ingram Norman and you can do it at one hell of a better salary. What am I missing here?”
Ara yanked her shirt over her head and grabbed her purse. She hadn’t put her shoes on, but she could do the in the elevator. She just wanted out of the room. “Everything. The answer is still no, Mr. Sutton. If you contact the firm again, I’ll pursue charges of harassment.”
“Araceli--”
His only answer was a closing door. He stared at it in shock for several long moments. Then he stood up and pulled his jeans on while calling his secretary.
“Book me a flight home,” he ordered. “I don’t care what airline, as long as it’s soon.”
He began to pack, throwing his things into his suitcase carelessly, leaving most of what he’d bought to spend time with her. He wouldn’t need jeans and tee shirts back home in Palo Alto. And he didn’t want her memory following him like a ghost.
Gail had been right. Vasquez Accounting Services was small potatoes and he had bigger concerns. He could always buy them later, or simply let them peter out once he’d gathered all the business in the area. In his anger, that sounded like the best plan. She’d see then that he’d only been trying to help her.
He flung open the door to his room and stormed down the stairs. As he turned in his key, his phone beeped with flight details. In three hours he’d be leaving Araceli Vasquez behind forever. Somehow it wasn’t soon enough.