Chapter 1
“Vasquez Accounting Services, how may I help you today?” Araceli said, trying to keep her voice calm and professional as she cradled the ancient cordless phone between her cheek and shoulder while carrying a precarious stack of files across the office to her desk. Some days she felt more like a juggler in a circus than an accountant.
“Listen to my extremely professional little sister. I’m so proud.” A voice cooed in her ear.
“Oh, hey Silvia, what’s up?” Ara kept her steps short, balancing even more carefully as the top file folder began to slowly shift to the left.
“Not much. Just the usual state of chaos,” her sister replied.
Araceli could hear the smile in her voice though. Silvia worked in a daycare and she loved every single one of the kids who came through the door. Somehow she managed it even when they were screaming and throwing things, which Ara found absolutely amazing.
“It sounds pretty quiet to me,” Araceli said. She didn’t hear the normal sounds of stampedes and shrieks anyway.
“Most of them are down for naps,” Silvia replied. “Thank God. It’s been a long day, little sister. If I hadn’t gotten them all to go to sleep, how do you think I’d have managed to call you?”
Araceli looked from the stack of files in her arms to the top of her desk. It wasn’t exactly messy, but it was comfortably cluttered. Why on earth hadn’t she thought to clean it off before she grabbed all these files? She sighed heavily, shifting the stack of paper to one arm and trying to clear some space without dropping the phone.
“Is this a bad time?” Silvia asked, hearing the sigh. “I don’t know how long they’ll sleep, but I could call back later if you need me to.”
“No, it’s fine. I probably won’t be any better organized tomorrow than I am today.”
Silvia laughed. “We shared a room for fourteen years, Ara. I know for a fact that your organization skills will not improve tomorrow, or at all.”
“I’m getting better,” she protested. “I--Oh crap.” The invoices she’d managed to stack clumsily with one hand slid to the side and collapsed. That started a chain reaction that knocked over her business card holder and pen cup and then ended with her soda bottle landing with a metallic clang and clunk in the trash can beside her desk. “Hang on, okay?”
She put the phone down, ignoring her sister’s laughter, and made a space for the files she still had in her arms. Then she straightened the invoices, shoved the pens back into the cup and the cards back into the holder and gave the soda up for lost before picking the phone up again.
“I’m back,” she said. “What did you say you called for?”
“I hadn’t gotten around to that part yet,” Silvia said, her voice still light with laughter. “Honestly, Ara, for a brilliant accountant you are the most....”
“Brilliant junior accountant,” Araceli corrected. “And furthermore, brilliance and organizational ability don’t have anything to do with each other. Some of the finest minds in history weren’t exactly neat freaks.”
“You’re a fine example of that.”
Ara rubbed her forehead and sat down behind her desk. The files blocked her view of the rest of the office, reminding her once again of just how much work she had to do that afternoon. “Would you please get to the point?”
“The family reunion is coming up soon.”
Ara glanced at her desk calendar in surprise. “I thought...” She trailed off. Silvia was right. As usual. She’d completely lost track of time. Also as usual.
“One month,” Silvia said. “It takes place exactly one month from today. I’ve heard back from almost everyone now, and almost all of them have said yes.”
“Oh...my RSVP must have gotten lost in the mail,” Ara said sheepishly, knowing very well that it was somewhere in the drawers of her desk at home. Or maybe it was still lying on her dresser in her bedroom.
“I knew you wouldn’t remember to do it,” her sister said dismissively. “I also know that you wouldn’t miss the party for anything, so you’ve been down as a guest since day one.”
Ara grinned. “Damn right, I wouldn’t miss it. For one thing, there’s the food to think about.” She put on a breathy voice, hamming it up for her sister. “Enchiladas, tostadas, rice, beans, all the salsa in the world, churros...”
“Shut up, I skipped lunch!”
“You’re always skipping lunch,” Ara said with a sigh. “I may be disorganized, but at least I remember to eat.”
“Touché,” Silvia said dryly. “Anyway, more important than the food...”
“Abuelo Francisco’s birthday,” Araceli said along with her sister. “Of course I know that. It’s not everyday someone you love turns 90, Silvia. I didn’t forget. I’m even thinking about presents.”
“Why am I not surprised that you haven’t bought one yet?”
“Because you know me?” Araceli looked again at the stack of files. She really should start shopping seriously for her grandfather’s birthday. But she couldn’t do anything until the client records were up to date. “Listen, Silvia, I’m on the verge of being literally buried in paperwork here. Can I call you back tonight? We can brainstorm birthday present ideas.”
“Not yet,” Silvia said firmly. “I still haven’t gotten to the reason I called.”
“The suspense is killing me,” Araceli informed her sister.
“I made a list of everything that needs to be done. Complete with deadlines for when each task has to be finished.”
“Nothing says “Let’s party” like deadlines,” Ara muttered.
Silvia either didn’t hear, or pretended not to. She went on, using her big sister voice. “I’m going to be sending you a copy of the list sometime today. I want you to take responsibility for some of it, okay?”
Araceli held back the sigh that rose in her throat. She’d had a sinking feeling that she wouldn’t get out of all of this planning scot free, but somehow she hadn’t expected it to start so early. “Sure, Sil. I promise.”
“All right.” Sounding brisk now, Silvia said her goodbyes and Araceli hung up the phone.
It rang again before she could even put it down and she eyed it suspiciously. More requests from her sister or a legitimate business concern? She had to answer it either way, so she pressed the button slowly.
“Vasquez Accounting Services,” she said warily.
“Hello.”
The man’s voice was smooth and deep, with no discernible accent. She caught her breath, feeling her heartbeat pick up speed. She was an absolute sucker for a great voice, and this one had seemed to go straight through her.
“Hello,” she said, trying for the second time that day to sound professional. “How can I help you today?”
“I’m looking to speak with Arturo Vasquez.”
Always a bridesmaid, never the bride. Of course he wanted to speak to her uncle and not her.
“May I ask who’s calling?” The question was only half as professional as it sounded. She wanted to put a name with the delectable voice.
“Of course. It’s Donovan Sutton.”
The name wasn’t familiar to her, but she didn’t think that she needed to dig deeper. With a voice like that, he probably wasn’t selling anything. Hell, with a voice like that, she’d probably buy it too.
“Hold one moment, please.”
“Not a problem.”
When she stepped to the other side of the office, her uncle, Arturo Vasquez, looked up from a complicated document. The slight frown line that was always between his brows deepened when he saw the phone in her hand.
“Is that Miguel’s Bistro?” he asked, sounding annoyed. “Because if it is...” He smacked his hand down on the document. “We’re going to have words. He gives me this chicken scratch and expects me to make heads or tails from it--”
Ara held up her hand. “It’s not the bistro. And I’ll call and straighten him out later if you’d like me too.” Her uncle was all bluster. He was much too sweet to make their clients enact any real changes in the way they presented their documents. Araceli didn’t have that problem.
Arturo grinned. “Perhaps I will,” he mused. “I’ve been warning him for years...”
She held the phone up to draw her uncle’s attention back to the matter at hand. “This is a man named Donovan Sutton,” she informed him. “He didn’t tell me what it was about.”
The frown line grew even deeper. That wasn’t a good sign. It was odd for her uncle not to mention problem clients to her, but she supposed she might have missed hearing about this particular one.
“What--” she began, but her uncle simply held out his hand.
“I’ll take it,” he said. “Go back to your files before they fall all over the office and it takes you twice as long.”
So he didn’t want her to hear the conversation. She walked obediently back to her side of the office, but she worked as quietly as she could. Even with all her effort, she only caught a few words. Until the very end of the conversation.
“Very well,” Arturo said with a sigh. “If you’re so determined, then of course I’ll meet you. Yes, that will be fine. Yes. I’ll see you then.”
She saw him disconnect the call. Then she saw him rub his hand across his forehead and sigh. His shoulders slumped as he put the phone down onto his desk and he stared blankly at the paperwork in front of him. Worry settled into the pit of her stomach. What could this Donovan guy have said to make her uncle look like that?
Ara walked over cautiously. “Uncle Arturo?”
She usually didn’t call him uncle when they were at work, but something about the whole experience was so unsettling that she’d fallen back on it without thinking.
He glanced up at her, his dark eyes tired. “Yes?”
“What...” she took a deep breath, ordering herself not to be a coward. Even if it was bad news, it would be better to know. Then she’d know what she was up against. “What was that call about?”
Arturo let out his breath slowly. “I guess there’s no point in trying to hide it,” he said finally. “Take a seat, mija.”
Now she was even more worried, but she sat and forced herself to be quiet while her uncle gathered his thoughts.
“Donovan Sutton wants to buy our business,” he finally said.
Araceli laughed in relief. “Is that all?”
Arturo’s eyes widened. “What do you mean “is that all”?” he demanded. “This is our business, our livelihood!”
“Well, sure, but I thought you had six months to live, or that we were going bankrupt!” She informed him, her whole body feeling ten pounds lighter as the worry vanished like a puff of smoke. She waved her hand. “Just tell him no and move on.”
“It’s not that easy. He’s a powerful man.”
“He doesn’t have the power to buy something that the owner doesn’t want to sell,” Araceli pointed out.
“He’s the head of Ingram Norman Accounting,” Arturo went on as if he hadn’t heard her. “And they’ve been buying small businesses like mine up and down the coast lately.”
“Small businesses like ours,” she corrected. “Is that why he wanted to meet up with you? To cut you a check?” Arturo looked at her quietly and she felt her cheeks flush. “Well, it’s hard not to overhear,” she mumbled, contrite. “It’s a small office.”
He gave her a brief smile. “Yes,” he admitted. “That’s probably what he wants to do. He’s been calling me for about a month now, trying to pin me down to speak with him. He says that once I hear his offer, I won’t think of telling him no.”
Uncle Arturo wouldn’t hold up well under that pressure, Araceli knew. It honestly surprised her that he’d held out this long. He hated telling people no. But he loved his work and the accounting firm too. Surely he wouldn’t.... She chewed her lower lip, a little more worried now.
“You’re not going to sell,” she said, halfway between a question and a plea.
“No,” he said. “I certainly don’t plan to sell, I just can’t figure out how to get that across to him. He’s not used to hearing the word no.”
Ara frowned. Who was this guy to try to muscle her uncle out of his own business, anyway? If she’d known that when he called, she would have.... And that’s when the idea came to her. “Why don’t you let me go to the meeting?” she asked suddenly. “He won’t push me around.”
“Meaning that he will push me around?” her uncle asked wryly.
“Well...”
Arturo laughed suddenly. “Why not?” he asked, more of himself than of her. “After all, you are my successor. You have just as much say as I do. You go and talk to the man. Let him know that Vasquez Accounting Services will not go down without a fight!”
His eyes were sparkling again and Ara was glad to see it. He’d looked so old a few moments ago. Old and tired. She grinned and stood up.
“We won’t go down at all,” she said firmly. “I’ll give him hell, Uncle Arturo. Now let me get back to those files before they really do fall over.” The stack looked more and more precarious the longer she left it sitting there and she really didn’t want to have to put more than fifty client files back in order today.
He held up a hand to halt her. “Thank you, mija,” he said simply. “And, one more thing....” He thrust the paperwork from Miguel’s Bistro at her. “Call him and find out what he expects me to do with this, please.”
With a smile, Araceli went back to her desk to do as she’d been told. She was really looking forward to giving that presumptuous Donovan Sutton a piece of her mind. And...what was the point in lying to herself? She wanted to see the man attached to the voice.