Love in the Vineyard (Tavonesi #7)(75)

“When did she tell you that?”

“Yesterday before I left work.” It occurred to her that Tammy must’ve suspected Enrique was in trouble. Or known.

“Tammy shouldn’t have told you something I told her in confidence.”

“She loves you. Maybe she suspected you needed help.”

He grinned. “That’s the best news I’ve had all year.”

This was no time to discuss Enrique’s love life. The tightness in her chest made it hard to breathe. She stood and paced the small cement slab that served as a front entryway. “You can’t go back to Colombia.”

“If I go to prison here, there’s no one to help my grandmother. No one. She saved my life, and now I’m going to save hers.”

“You could tell the Tavonesis.”

“I can’t take that chance. If they involve the police—”

“I’ll talk to Adrian—to Mr. Tavonesi,” she corrected. She put her hands to her hips. “Do you trust me?”

“We’re talking a life here, Natasha.”

“No, Enrique, we’re talking more than just one life.”

She’d have to confess her disability. Either take that risk or send a man and a little old lady to certain death. She’d have to explain how Enrique had access to the accounts. In a small way she felt responsible, even guilty, for putting temptation in his path. It was her unwillingness to tell the truth, to own up to her limitations, that had created his access in the first place.

But what of her life? What of Tyler? Adrian didn’t run the entire Casa business. His father and siblings would have a say. If she was fired, would Eddie have the ammo to have the courts find her unworthy? To get full custody? The thought of him having any right to Tyler at all already kept her awake at night. She couldn’t imagine him actually having say over Tyler’s life.

She said goodbye to Rosa and told Enrique not to do anything until she had a chance to talk with Adrian.

When she returned to her car, she hesitated before inserting the key. The very last thing she needed right then was to drive over to Tyler’s baseball game and face Adrian before she had a chance to think. But she was a mom. No other job came before that.





Chapter Twenty-Two



NATASHA WAVED AT MONICA AS SHE stepped up into the new bleachers at the school ball field. The new scoreboard behind centerfield was nearly complete. But her mind wasn’t on scoreboards or baseball or even Tyler. She’d run fifty different scenarios in her mind on the drive from Enrique’s to the school. And his grandmother’s face still haunted her.

Her racing thoughts made it hard to focus on the first hitters of the visiting team. Maybe Adrian wouldn’t show. She drew in a long breath and let it out slowly, cracking her neck and trying to release the kink of stress lodged in her muscles.

“Hey. You seem miles away,” Adrian said as he sat next to her. He glanced at the unfinished scoreboard. “Who’s winning?”

How he could make small talk was beyond her. Funds were missing from his business, and he was asking her about the score of a kid’s baseball game.

“I’m not sure.”

He reached for her hand. “That’s not like you.”

She couldn’t look him in the eye.

“The scoreboard isn’t ready.” Damn. Her voice faltered.

“I see that.” He put his fingers to her chin and turned her face to his. “Natasha, don’t worry about the money. I know you must’ve needed it. I’ll just smooth things over, and we can move on. You don’t have to explain.”

She yanked her hand from his. His forgiving lord-of-the-manor tone enflamed her. He thought she’d stolen the money. She’d been judged a thief and passed a lenient sentence. Images of being unjustly accused throughout her horrid years with foster parents pushed waves of anxiety into her stomach. For a minute she was sure she’d be sick.

She had to get away from him.

And she needed to think. She’d planned to admit her disability, to tell Adrian about Enrique’s dilemma. To set up a way for Enrique to slowly pay the money back. But he’d glossed over the theft—because she’d had sex with him? If he knew Enrique had taken the money, would he get the same lenience? She doubted it.

“I have to go,” she said.

“But what about the game, it’s—”

“I have things to do. Please don’t follow me.” She jumped up and ran down the bleacher steps.

Tyler.

She turned back and dashed over to where Monica sat chatting and laughing with two other moms.

“Could you give Tyler a ride home after the game, please?”

“Sure, Natasha. But I promised Brandon pizza tonight—okay if I take Tyler out with us before I bring him home?”

Perfect. She’d have time to sort out her thoughts.

“That’d be great, thanks. He loves pizza.” Natasha forced her face to cooperate and smiled at the two other moms. She longed for the day when she could host sleepovers, buy the pizzas, and share freely, just as these moms did. But right then she had troubles to face, tough problems to wrestle before that day came. “Cheer for the home team for me. And thanks again, Monica. Appreciate it.”

She’d felt Adrian’s eyes on her during the whole exchange. But he hadn’t followed her. Damned if every time she turned around the guy didn’t do something respectful. Something thoughtful. He probably thought that glossing over the theft was a kind thing to do. He couldn’t know how his assumption that she was a thief had triggered sickening memories from her years with drunken foster parents. With people who’d falsely accused her of deeds she hadn’t committed.