Chapter Fifteen
Repeating her C-A-L-M mantra to herself, Josephine stood behind the hotel’s front desk several weeks later, smarting after another direct run-in with Penelope, although this one had not been as bad as her earlier interactions. She told herself to try to understand. Reminded herself of the pain and anger she’d experienced when she had misunderstood the embrace between Nita and Martin.
And while she didn’t want anyone protecting her, as she had told Martin, it was time to speak to Rake about the situation. She hoped that he could give her some additional insights into Penelope and yes, maybe even step in and tell his wife to adopt a more civil manner toward her. Even if only in public.
She asked to be relieved from her shift slightly early, and the hotel manager kindly let her go. Her intent was to head to Rake’s suite to chat with him, but she noticed him suddenly rushing toward the kitchen and back office areas. She chased after him, but her slower waddling gait made it difficult to keep up. Women who were nearly seven months pregnant were not built for speed.
She pushed through the doors to the Employees Only area just in time to see Rake rush past the kitchen area and toward the office and storage areas. Nearly skipping to keep up, she was about to call out to him when he entered the manager’s office.
That’s odd, she thought. She had just talked to the manager upstairs; surely the man wasn’t in his office already.
She slowed her pace due to the ache in the small of her back and since she assumed Rake would immediately realize his mistake and head upstairs. To her surprise, long minutes passed, and by the time she neared the door, Rake had still not exited.
She knocked and called out his name. No answer.
Even more unusual, she thought. After another knock and a suitable delay for a response, she opened the door a crack and peered inside.
The office was empty.
Impossible. She’d clearly seen Rake enter the office.
She walked in, her hand splayed over her belly protectively, and looked around. The office was completely vacant.
Shaking her head, she examined the space carefully and was about to leave when an odd shadow along one wall caught her attention. She approached with caution, tension in every line of her body, and quickly realized it was no shadow, but rather a floor-to-ceiling ridge on one wall.
She ran her fingers along the ridge and realized that it gave a little when she pushed on it. Laying her palm along the edge, she started to shove when her angel appeared on her shoulder to shout out, “Danger, Josephine. Danger.”
Surprisingly, the devil that rarely urged caution joined in with, “You may not like what you find.”
She ignored both of them, and the gap opened wider. Easing her fingers into the gap, she yanked the hidden door open and found herself staring into a tunnel of some kind. She told herself it wasn’t possible. Rake had said that he would try to be an honorable man and one who would be there for her and their child. The taste of betrayal was strong and bitter.
“Warning, Josephine. Warning,” the angel cautioned, but she ignored her and stepped through the opening. She had to know whether or not Rake was up to his old tricks.
The ground beneath her was soft sand like that on the nearby riverbank. There were some dry leaves, like those from the poinciana trees lining the marina walk, that rustled underfoot as her skirts skimmed over them.
There was a bit more light up ahead, as if the tunnel opened to the outside. It occurred to her that the ground on this side of the hotel had been built up to create a sort of levee to keep back the river and create the marina. The tunnel likely led in that direction, but who would create such a secret entrance and for what reason?
Only a criminal, she thought. The baby kicked furiously beneath her hand.
It has to be a mistake. She tried to convince herself that Rake hadn’t lied to her, but off in the distance, she suddenly heard his voice issuing instructions. His rich timbre bounced off the walls, and the slight echo made it hard to understand what he was saying.
Whatever it was, she didn’t want to know. She couldn’t imagine that the man who was so devoted to his yet-unborn daughter that he had put his hotel in her name was a criminal, much as Martin had said.
She whirled to rush back to the office and her family who was waiting for her at home. The sight of something bright and colorful on the ground caught her eye. She stopped her headlong flight and bent awkwardly, picking up a long piece of red ribbon. Velvet, she realized as she ran her fingers across the soft, smooth surface. Then she heard Rake’s voice once more, and Josephine tucked the ribbon into her skirt pocket and continued her waddling dash out of the tunnel, the whole time telling herself that it wasn’t what she thought.
Rake was not Sin Sombra. A man who could be this kind and supportive and gentle and caring could not be a murderous crime boss.
He just couldn’t be.
Aye, Josephine. Did he choose that crib with the iron bars because it reminded him of where he belongs? Don’t let your daughter get too used to places like that; otherwise she might take after her robber baron father!
When the Valencia women set their minds on things, it was hard to get them to change their opinions. As it turned out, Ronaldo was just as hardheaded.
Josephine sat at the kitchen table, the ribbon like a giant stone in her pocket, weighing down what should be happy emotions at having her family—or most of it—sitting around her at the table. She had imagined a moment just like this dozens, if not hundreds, of times while she was growing up. Zara, Alberta, and the father she’d wished she’d had as a child.
Only now they were all sitting around the table deciding her life for her, which she did not need. I am entirely capable of managing my own life, she thought and tried to ignore the comments being volleyed around the table like bullets from a Gatling gun.
“Martin is a good man, but Rake. Oh my, Rake is so handsome, and Josephine and the baby would be taken care of quite well,” Zara said, clearly smitten by the rich robber baron.
“No, no, no,” Ronaldo railed melodramatically. “Martin is the man for her. He’s kind, caring, and so responsible. That’s the kind of man Josephine needs in her life.”
“Enough. Tell them that’s enough, Abuela,” she nearly shouted.
Accustomed to her grandmother generally being supportive, she was surprised when she said, “If you ask me, I’m not sure who is the right man for our Josephine.”
Every head at the table swiveled to stare at Alberta.
“Excuse me?” Josephine said.
“Mami, you can’t be serious,” Zara almost wailed.
“Surely you are joking,” Ronaldo challenged with an indignant sniff.
“I have my reasons,” Alberta replied with a defiant lift of her chin that Josephine recognized all too well. She’d done it herself many a time.
“Would you mind sharing them?” she said since she generally took her abuela’s suggestions to heart.
Alberta directed her wise gaze at Josephine. “You seem to be having so many doubts, mi’ja, even though you say you are sure. As much as I might not like it, I think it is better for you to wait until you have the baby. After that, you will hopefully be able to decide who is the right man for you.”
“I am sure, Abuela. And I don’t need all of you deciding my life for me. I know I’ve made mistakes—”
“We all make mistakes, Josephine,” her abuela said, sounding surprisingly like Martin. “It is how we deal with them that makes all the difference in our lives. Do not rush your decision. Time will prove to whom to give your heart.”
Wise words from Alberta, as always. Now will our independent-thinking Josephine agree?
Rake paced nervously in his suite, awaiting Josephine’s imminent arrival.
“If you keep this up, you’re going to wear a hole in that Aubusson rug, which would be a real shame,” Lucia teased and laid a hand on her brother’s shoulder. “Come sit, Rake. It does no good to be so impatient.”
Reluctantly he did as she asked, but reminded her, “You know how important this is to me, Lucia. I’ll never have this chance again.”
“Or the doctors might have been wrong, Rake. Regardless, the birth of any child is a miracle,” Lucia said as she sat in a chair beside him and smoothed her skirts.
At the knock on the door, he shot to his feet and almost ran to the door. Jerking it open, he was relieved to find Josephine there. “You came,” he said, surprise in his tone.
“I promised I would, Rake,” she said and offered him a reluctant smile.
She walked over to Lucia and held out her hand. “I’ve seen you around the hotel. You must be Lucia.”
Lucia took both of Josephine’s hands in hers. “I am, and I want you to know you’re in good hands.”
“Rake tells me you’re a nurse,” Josephine said as Lucia guided her to the table where a tea service had been laid out for them.
“Lucia was at the top of her class, and she’s been studying to be a midwife as well,” Rake explained as he joined them and sat beside Josephine.
Lucia poured out tea for each of them and then offered Josephine her choice from the finger sandwiches, scones, clotted cream, jellies, and jams. “My favorite is the cranberry orange scone. We’re so lucky to be here in Miami where oranges are so readily available.”
“Thank you,” Josephine said, and after a quick glance in his direction, chose one of the scones, clotted cream, and some orange marmalade. “Rake has told me he would like for you to assist during the birth.”
“I hope that’s all right by you. I assure you I am quite able to help. I’ve actually attended a number of births. Words cannot explain what a miraculous event it is,” Lucia said excitedly and clapped her hands gaily.
A broad, happy smile erupted on Josephine’s face at Lucia’s exuberance, and Rake finally relaxed a little. This was something he could do for her and the baby, even if Josephine wouldn’t consider what he really wanted: a future together.
“Thank you for relieving some of my apprehension,” she said, and the talk turned to how Josephine should be preparing for the birth. Whether she was eating and sleeping well and other things she needed to do to stay healthy during the last couple of months.
When they finished the tea, Lucia excused herself, and when she left, Rake felt as if some of the positive energy that had filled the room left with her.
“Your sister is very nice,” Josephine said, scooting her chair away from Rake, and looked down at the hands she had clasped in her lap. Rake noticed they were white from the pressure she was exerting.
“She is, and you can trust that she will do right by you and the baby,” he urged and laid his hands over hers. “Just like you can trust that I will do right by you and the baby.”
Her head shot up, and she locked her gaze with his. “You’ve said that before, but actions speak louder than words. Can I trust that you’ll be there the way you say you will?”
Rake blew out a harsh breath and shook his head. “I thought you believed me when I said I would try to be honorable and be there for you, but I can see that Detective Cadden has still been planting ideas in your head.”
She tilted her head up in a gesture as regal as any queen’s. “I have eyes of my own, Rake.” Josephine paused, then said quietly. “I found the secret tunnel in the manager’s office a couple of weeks ago. I know you use it.”
“But no more,” he urged, his heart racing again. “I’m done with all that. I had been bringing in extra alcohol for the hotel and selling it off in North Miami to keep the Regal Sol from going under. But when I found out you were pregnant, I started cutting my ties to that business.”
Josephine narrowed her gaze, scrutinizing him carefully. “You say that, but I saw you go into the tunnel. I heard you giving instructions to someone.”
Rake grasped her hands and squeezed reassuringly. “I’m not in that business anymore, but I have been using the tunnel when someone needs me at the marina. It’s the fastest way to get there. I swear to you on our baby’s life, I am not doing anything you need to worry about. As I said before, I want to be the kind of man our daughter would be proud to call a father.”
He took a breath, remembering how Josephine had bristled when he’d shown her the new deed to the Regal Sol. “Don’t be upset. I changed the hotel deed back to my name, but I have set up a trust fund for Gini. I need to make sure she is protected legally just in case. I had done the same thing for Penelope when I was so ill and…well, it just makes sense.”
A silent pause followed his words, but then Josephine nodded. “Gini? Is that the name you want for our daughter?”
“You don’t like it?” he said and arched a brow.
“Well, if you want our daughter to be a lady of the night,” she said, lightening the mood.
Rake laughed and wagged his head. “Maybe something else. Whatever you want, Josephine. I’ll be here for you and our daughter for whatever you want.”
She peered at him again, and it seemed to him that she was finally starting to believe it.
And it gave him hope. Perhaps his dream of sharing a life with Josephine and his daughter was still possible.
Can we really be seeing the end of Rake’s illegal ways, and if so, will that mean the end of Sin Sombra? Will our bad-boy hero be able to steal the race (and Josephine’s heart) from our good detective in the homestretch?
The ache in Josephine’s back had become her constant companion the last week. Lucia had warned her that she might experience such pains when she was getting close to the big moment, and by her calculations, that could be any day now.
She just wasn’t sure she was ready for the big moment. The time had gone by so quickly the last few months. She had spent a great deal of time with Rake and his sister as she prepared for the arrival of the baby.
She had also spent just as much time with Martin, sharing with him all that would be necessary so that he could take part in the birth. He’d been patient with her and oh so tender. Excited and gentle when he laid his hands on her belly as it grew ever bigger.
Her spirits were bolstered by his involvement, but that couldn’t keep her from worrying about the continued animosity between him and Rake. She had hoped that Martin’s investigation would have been concluded by now and that it would have absolved Rake, but it hadn’t ended. And despite Rake’s assertions that he had divested himself of his illegal businesses, contraband liquor and drugs were still making their way into North Miami and elsewhere.
Then there was Rake’s other family: his father, Ernesto, Sondra, and his wife, Penelope.
All three had taken up residence at the Regal Sol and showed no signs of leaving. Well, except for Ernesto’s many trips to Cuba on Rake’s yacht. The rumors had it that he had bought and was renovating a hotel on Varadero Beach, but she wondered if there was more to it. She suspected Martin felt the same way, not that he would say.
She was dealing with Martin’s protectiveness better these days. And she was handling his partner Nita’s obvious affection for him as well as Penelope’s continued antagonism. As for Sondra, it was sometimes as if the woman was a shadow since she rarely interacted with anyone other than Lucia and kept to herself. It made her wonder why someone as dynamic as Ernesto had chosen such a reserved and private woman. It also explained why Rake had such a distant relationship with the woman.
A woman who was approaching the concierge desk at that moment, a diffident look on her face. “I understand you can make travel arrangements for me,” she said and peered down her long, patrician nose at Josephine.
“Of course, Mrs. Solvino. What do you need?” she said and grabbed her notepad and pen.
“My husband is returning to Cuba again, and I’m bored here,” she said, snapping open a hand fan made of deep red silk that matched the velvet ribbon holding up the artful curls at the back of her head.
Wait one moment! We’ve seen a ribbon like that before, haven’t we, my friends? But it was so many months ago, and Josephine’s been so busy. Will she recall?
There was something about the ribbon that seemed familiar, but the flap of the fan called her attention back to the woman and the lips pursed in annoyance.
Hmm, I guess not.
“There are several tours I can arrange for you that you might enjoy,” Josephine said and was reaching for one of the brochures when Mrs. Solvino rapped the fan against the desk. The mother-of-pearl blades of the fan clattered loudly against the wooden desk.
“I wish to return to Palm Beach as soon as possible,” Mrs. Solvino advised.
“Certainly,” she said and, wasting no time, checked the train schedules and made all the arrangements for the woman. With not even a thank you, she marched away imperiously, leaving her to understand why Rake didn’t much care for the woman.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Martin said as he came up to the desk, a smile on his face.
“You don’t want to know my thoughts. That woman is so nasty,” she said, and Martin tracked her gaze to catch a glimpse of the departing Mrs. Solvino. But as he did so, his gaze narrowed and he gestured to his own head. “Was that a red velvet ribbon in her hair?”
Martin remembered! Good job, Detective! I guess that’s why they pay you the big bucks, eh?
“It was. Why?” she asked, but he shook his head.
“Nothing. Just wondering,” he said, and the moment passed quickly, like a soap bubble bursting in the wind.
Aw. So close! Or is our dear detective just trying to protect Josephine again?
“Are you almost finished with your shift?” he asked.
“Just a few more minutes. Did you want to have lunch?” she asked.
He grinned, a carefree lopsided grin so reminiscent of Martin before what she had come to think of as “the troubles.” “I have the afternoon off, and I thought we might go for a carriage ride. Are you up for that?”
It seemed like the last few months had been a whirlwind of her going to work, preparing for the baby, and trying to get some rest since she always seemed to be tired. A carriage ride would be a perfect break from the monotony of all that.
“That sounds lovely, Martin. Thank you.”
He gestured with the hand holding his boater to the front door of the lobby. “I’ll be waiting for you outside.”
“I’ll be there soon,” she said, and the time couldn’t pass quickly enough.
Mr. Adams, sensing her impatience, smiled at her and said, “I don’t think you took all your break time today, Miss Valencia. Why don’t you take that time now?”
She grinned at the man. “Really, sir? I can leave?” It amazed her how supportive some of her coworkers had been, especially now that she was in her final weeks of pregnancy. Not everyone, of course. Some former friends now looked at her with scorn and disdain, and some gave her the cold shoulder entirely. As for the Regal Sol customers, their reactions had likewise been mixed. It had helped that her role in assisting with Ronaldo’s troupe had also given her time away from dealing with the public.
He nodded. “Yes, you may. Have a good afternoon,” he said, and she hugged him spontaneously, then grabbed her reticule and her bicorne hat, which she jammed on her head, blowing the feathers off her face as she hurried as fast as she could to the lobby door. The ache in her back grew with her rushed steps. She took a deep breath and slowed her pace as she waddled down the stairs to where Martin waited by a small open carriage.
He approached her as she came down the veranda stairs and helped her the last few steps and then over to the carriage where he assisted her as she climbed up. She took a spot on the single bench seat beneath a simple sunshade. She was grateful for that, as she had not been handling the Miami heat and humidity all that well the last few months of her pregnancy.
Martin hopped up into the driver’s seat, took the reins, and with a quick slap of the reins and click of his tongue, he urged the horses into a slow, measured trot, mindful of her pregnancy and the sometimes rutted condition of the Miami streets. Luckily the road he took was in good shape, and in no time, they were moving southward of Miami toward the countryside.
While the early afternoon sun was strong, there was a breeze coming from offshore and the movement of the carriage. “This is so nice. What made you think of doing this today?” she asked.
He moved his attention from the road for the briefest time and grinned. “You’ll see soon enough, my darling.”
She wondered what he could be talking about and examined the carriage, searching for a clue, and noticed the picnic basket tucked behind the bench seat. “A picnic! How nice, Martin. It’s been so long since we’ve had a picnic.”
“Too long,” he said simply, and yet she sensed he was holding something back.
Barely half an hour had gone by when he pulled the carriage down a narrow dirt road and kept on driving until they were close enough to the ocean that a sea breeze swept over the flat piece of open land surrounded by citrus trees on every side. The salty smell of the sea mingled with the fresh scent of orange blossoms, producing an enticing perfume.
She inhaled deeply, pulling in that aroma. She wished she could bottle it so that she would forever remember what she knew was going to be a very delightful day with Martin. “This is so perfect. Thank you.”
He turned toward her on the seat and brushed back the wisps of hair that had come loose during their drive. “Do you like this place?”
She glanced around, taking in the sight of the orchards and the wide-open grassy space between them. “Yes, I do. It’s lovely.”
“Lovely enough for a home? Our home,” he asked, almost shyly.
She shook her head and looked all around again, enamored of the place. “Do you mean that? Our home? Here?”
He nodded. “I thought we could build the house right here in the center,” he said and held his hands up to frame the view. “It could be a big house with enough rooms for Alberta and Zara to come and visit. A nursery for the baby on the sunny side of the house and a room overlooking the orchards so you can sit there and write. I know you haven’t had much time to do that with everything that’s going on.”
She hadn’t, and she’d felt a bit of emptiness at not being able to work on her stories. She cupped Martin’s jaw and gently urged his head to face her. “This is all so wonderful, Martin. It’s more than I could ever ask for considering—”
He laid a hand over her lips. “Shhh. The past is the past, Josephine. It’s time to start our new life together.”
Her heart swelled with joy, but the angel appeared again on her shoulder, reminding her that she had feelings about Rake. Perplexing feelings that refused to go away and that she needed to share with Martin, the angel warned. She waited for the devil to jump in and tell her to keep her doubts to herself, but the devil surprisingly remained silent. Dizzying emotions swirled inside her even as the ache in her back grew ever more uncomfortable. “Martin, you are my best friend, and as confused as I’ve been over the last few months, when I’m with you everything seems clear and I’m at peace.”
His handsome face grew serious. “And when you’re not with me? How do you feel when you’re with him?”
She hesitated only a beat, but it was a beat too long. “Are you entirely sure about what you want, Josephine? That I’m the man to be your husband and a father to your daughter?”
She opened her mouth to answer him, not quite sure what words would spill out, when suddenly the ache in her back went from dull to a sharp pain, like someone was driving a hot poker into her back. A second later, that pain radiated forward and a sharp contraction stole her breath. Between her legs, a gush of warm water escaped her and wet her petticoats and skirts.
She gasped and laid a hand over her belly. Then she clutched Martin’s hand with her other one as another powerful contraction made her hunch forward in pain.
“Josephine, what’s wrong?” Martin asked and rubbed her back with his free hand.
She sat up slightly and met his worried gaze. “I think I’m having the baby.”
What a time for Gini (not!) to make her appearance! Right when Josephine was about to say… Well, I don’t know what, but the suspense is killing me! And poor Martin! He probably wasn’t expecting his romantic gesture to end with them racing back to Miami so that Josephine can give birth to another man’s baby!