Chapter Four

 

Monica settled into her seat and picked up the menu. She knew Rodrigo’s eyes were fixated on her, but she purposely didn’t look at him. For days he’d been by her side, never letting her out of his sight for more than a few minutes. Her father’s increasing paranoia had even resulted in Rodrigo being forced to sit in her room while she slept.

Had it been anyone else than Rodrigo she may have protested the arrangement. But, it wasn’t anyone else. It was Rodrigo. And she was growing fonder of him with each day that passed.

 She could lie to herself and say it was because of his charm, or the way he treated her with respect, unlike the other employees of her father. That was only half of her allure toward him, though.

Rodrigo was, in every sense of the word, sexy as fuck. And every detail from his dark neatly trimmed hair, to his tanned and muscular body, only made her that much more attracted to him.

“What took you so long in there?” he asked.

She peered from above her menu. “In the bathroom?”

“Did you go somewhere else?”

“No.”

“Then yes, Monica. What took you so long in the bathroom?”

She tried not to smile, but his annoyance with her was sometimes cuter than she could handle. He had a little vein in his forehead which always seemed to protrude when he was getting irritated.

“Nope. Just the bathroom. I would’ve asked you to join me, but the restaurant probably has rules against that.”

He mumbled something under his breath just loud enough for her to hear, but not so loud that she could make out what it was.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, Monica. Not a thing.”

The waiter came over to their table and before he could say a word, Rodrigo jumped in with their orders.

“Dos huevos rancheros.”

“Y para beber?” the waiter asked.

“Aguas poor favor.”

She handed her menu over to the waiter and turned her attention to Rodrigo. “How did you know I wanted that?”

“It’s Tuesday.”

“This is true. But that still doesn’t answer my question.”

“You always order huevos rancheros on Tuesday.”

“What? No, I don’t. I order lots of different things.”

“Not on Tuesdays. On Tuesdays in rancheros.”

She crossed her arms and argued. “I think you’re exaggerating. I’m not that predictable.”

“Quite the contrary, Monica. You are painfully predictable.”

“Prove it.”

“Okay.” He placed his napkin on his lap. “Mondays, you order Huevos Pericos. Tuesdays, like I said… rancheros. Wednesday its Arepas Rellenas de Queso, Thursdays is Calentado and Fridays are Tortilla Paisa day. The only days you mix things up are Saturdays and Sundays.”

“That’s not…” she stopped herself, thinking back over the past weeks of their time together and realized he was right. “Oh my God. I am that predictable.”

“Painfully so.”

She laughed. “Stop. So, I’m a little boring. Can you blame me? I lead a very boring existence.”

“A boring existence? Your father is Pedro Tovar. He’s one of the most powerful men in South America.” Rodrigo stopped himself for a moment before continuing. “Nope. Correction. He’s one of the most powerful men in all of the Americas.”

She liked Rodrigo. Spending time with him was fun and he was easy on the eyes. But, his statement sounded to her like fingernails on a chalk board.

“You would think that.”

“What? Am I wrong?”

“Yes. You are.”

“You seem annoyed by this observation.”

“That’s probably because I am. You and all of the men who work for my father think that being Pedro Tovar’s daughter is so glamorous.”

“Well, isn’t it?”

“No. It’s not. At all!”

“Alright. Calm down. Geez.”

“No. I’m tired of everyone thinking that being his daughter is such a picnic in the park. That couldn’t be further from the truth.”

“I’d ask what you mean, but I have a feeling you’re about to tell me anyway.” He said.

“I live like a prisoner, Rodrigo. Yes, I have access to nice cars, unlimited money and jewelry as far as the eye can see. But, those are all just things. None of them mean much if you can’t really enjoy them.”

“Okay, so what would you do? If you had the choice?”

“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I’ve always wanted to go to the states. I was born there. I’m a citizen. I haven’t been there since I was three years old.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“See, not so predictable.” She smiled.

“Maybe.” He grinned. “So, what else?”

“I have a four year degree from the National University of Colombia in Bogotá. But, I can’t even remember what it’s in.”

Chuckling, he asked, “How do you not know what your degree is in?”

“I was young, into partying with the locals more than I was into studying. I was there because father wanted me to be. Hell, I think he picked most of my classes for me.”

“Yeah, I guess when he comes to you he’s a bit…”

“You can say it. Controlling. Overbearing. Suffocating. I mean the list could go on for hours.”

“I think it’s because he loves you.”

“I know that. And I love him. But sometimes his fatherly love is misplaced and put toward the wrong efforts. Instead of encouraging me to do something with my life, he hovers and refuses to let me breathe. At least not without you near.”

“I think he’s just having a hard time with your brother’s death.”

“My brother.” She shook her head. “I miss him too. He was my brother and I loved him. We were really close when we were younger. But…”

“Nothing.”

“Hey.” Rodrigo reached across the table and lifted her chin. “You okay?”

She was touched by his gentleness. He was adorable when frustrated with her, but these few and fleeting instances of gentle kindness were enough to make her melt.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. Talk to me.”

“You won’t say anything to my father?”

“You have my word.”

She wasn’t sure why, but, she trusted him. If there was one thing she’d learned about her close quarter’s contact with Rodrigo it was that his word was golden. If he gave it. He didn’t do so lightly.

“Okay. My father is… a dumb ass.”

He laughed at her declaration.

“I’m serious, Rodrigo.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. It’s just funny to hear you say that. Go ahead.”

“I’m not stupid. I know what my father does. And yes, I blindly go about life, distancing myself from any new regarding him because then I’d have to face the reality of what he does. That holds moral consequences for me that I am not even sure I want to think about. But, this thing with Jason….”

The waiter came to the table with their waters and both she and Rodrigo sat in silence until he left.

“You were saying?” he prompted her.

“Jason was my brother. And I loved him. But I didn’t love him so much that I was blind to what was happening.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was a monster, Rodrigo. Oh sure, he was sweet and loving toward me. When it came to family matters he was loyal and wonderful. But with women… he was a monster.”

“So, what are you saying?”

“This woman. This Chloe Powers who killed him… I have no doubts at all that it was self defense. He had a history of abusing women. With hurting them very badly. And I’m sorry, but a Senator’s daughter doesn’t just up and kill a man after they only dated one time.”

“Well, if you hear the way your father tells it. She was a rejected ex of your brothers who killed him out of revenge.”

“The only revenge that I know about is the one that my father is planning for that Powers woman. A woman who I’m sure did what she absolutely had to do in order to survive.”

“I don’t think your father would be very happy to hear you say that.”

“Well, tough shit. Pedro Tovar isn’t God. And my brother was not a good man. I just wish…”

 

 

****

 

Rodrigo had been intrigued with Monica for years. These past few months he had, for reasons unbeknownst to him, become more aware of her though. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. But, past that gorgeous exterior of hers, there seemed to be something inside of her that was always trying to break free.

“What do you wish, Monica? Tell me.”

“Nothing.”

The waiter came to their table with their food and set it in front of them. “Algo más?”

“No. Gracias.” Monica replied.

“De nada.”

The waiter left their immediate vicinity and he turned his attention back to her.

“I know you think that you can’t tell me things. Because of your father. But, I’m not a monster, Monica.”

“I know that.”

“Do you?”

She reached across the table and set her hand on top of his, gently brushing her thumb across his knuckles.

“I do, Rodrigo.”

For a moment longer than he should have allowed, he stared into her deep chocolate eyes. He hadn’t ever allowed himself the vulnerability of letting his protective walls down since the day he agreed to leave his life behind him and take on the biggest job of his life.

In that moment though, he could feel his wall crumbling. Monica Tovar wasn’t just a beautiful young woman. She wasn’t just the daughter to one of the most powerful drug czars their generation had ever seen. She was a woman. A woman who was drop dead sexy, so damn sweet it made his heartache, and a woman who was holding his hand.

Mother fucker, RJ. You really know how to complicate things, don’t you?