Immediately, Elise went into panic mode. Her mind filled with that horrible trip in the trunk of Dr. Hightower’s car. In this version of her life, that hadn’t happened but it could. All the players were there. Her parents could—
After a glance at her panicked face, Alejandro closed her suitcase, threw it out the window, put his arm around her, and led her to the window.
She looked out. The bedroom was on the second floor. “You’re kidding, right?”
He went out first, stepped sideways onto the low roof of the one-story sunroom, and held out his hand to her.
Elise didn’t hesitate when she took it—nor did she look down. When she was halfway onto the lower roof, he jerked her arm and pulled her to him. For a second he held her against him, then released her. Still holding her hand, they ran across the steep roof. At the far end was the big rose trellis. Alejandro went down first, then held his arms up to her.
As she got to the last steps, he grabbed her waist and pulled so hard that she flew backward. Smack into his arms.
When she caught her breath, he was grinning at her. She couldn’t help but put her head against his chest. How warm he felt! She could feel/hear his heart beating.
“My father has a shotgun,” she whispered, but she didn’t lift her head from his chest.
Nor did Alejandro move.
“Bang, bang,” she said, but without much energy. She was content to stay where she was. Maybe forever.
Her words finally reached him. He was holding the missing daughter of the homeowner. He was the gardener.
He dropped her feet to the ground and took her hand.
Alejandro sent her toward the back gate as he broke away to get her suitcase from below the window. When they were in the service lane, he tossed the case inside his truck. His big black truck.
Elise said, “Not a stallion but second best.”
As they went through the gate to the Kendricks’ place, Alejandro looked at her in question.
“It’s my fantasy to be rescued by a man on a big black horse. I even practiced the jump with my trainer. He rides fast toward me, then leans down and grabs my arm and pulls me up. I know how to do that.”
He gave her a blank look of not understanding what she’d said. Annoyed, she looked away.
“Where the hell have you two been?” Diego yelled as soon as he saw them.
“Breaking and entering,” Elise said. “My parole officer is going to be furious.”
Diego threw up his hands. “You want to get paid, you work.”
“I get paid?” Elise said. “Wow. Somebody give me the pruners.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Diego was suspicious of both of them, so for the rest of the day, he never let them out of his sight. He worried that they didn’t know what kind of rage Elise’s father was in—and what he would do to the people hiding his daughter.
Elise worked doubly hard that afternoon. But every time she tried to pick up something like a heavy flat of geraniums, Alejandro’s arm would appear over her head. “Thanks,” she’d mumble, then get the next one off the truck.
Visiting her parents’ house had made her think about the past and what had happened to her. She kept thinking about what she was supposed to achieve. How could she change her life in just three weeks? She remembered what Kathy said. “Does it have to be about a man?” It was as though all three women had the same goal: Change the man; change your life.
But surely there was more than that. There had to be a different way. Absently, she watched Alejandro spray water from a hose over his head and saw his sweaty T-shirt plaster itself to his magnificent body. She wanted him, yes, but then what? What happened after sexual urges were satisfied? Not that she knew from experience, but there had to be a time when even the most beautiful of men ceased to set you on fire. There had to be nights when you just wanted to go to bed and snuggle up with a book by your favorite author.
She needed something in her life besides a man.
When Elise heard laughter, she came out of her trance. Miguel and the other men were laughing at Alejandro. They were telling him in Spanish that he had to work harder to impress the girl because she was looking at him but she wasn’t seeing him.
Elise had to turn away so Alejandro wouldn’t see her roll her eyes. “You idiots!” she said under her breath, and they laughed.
That night, Elise was sweaty, dirty, and very tired, but she knew that supper had to be made and clothes run through the washer to be hung out in the morning. “The second shift” it was called and it nearly always fell to women.
Diego nodded toward the computer. “Your boyfriend stole Carmen so you get the bookkeeping job. Tomorrow is payday.”
“My boyfriend?” she sputtered. “I was the victim in all this! You guys should—” She saw Diego’s teasing smile. Alejandro was turned away, but he too was laughing. “Very funny.”
The two men cooked while Elise sat at the kitchen table and tried to figure out the software to do the payroll. After she subtracted the wholesale price for all the materials, there wasn’t a lot of money left. It took a while to calculate the government’s cut, but when she did, the paychecks were appallingly small.
She took the cold beer Alejandro handed her and leaned back in her chair. “This is disgusting,” she said. “That little twerp Leonardo copies someone else’s design and gets paid six figures. We kill ourselves doing the actual work and we barely get a living wage.”
Alejandro said in Spanish, “Then you should make a better design.” Diego translated.
“He’s a plant expert, not me. All I’ve done in garden design is draw a circle on a piece of paper. And I only did that because I wanted—” She stopped. The men were looking at her hard. How did she know about Alejandro’s knowledge of plants? “Besides,” she said loudly, “Mrs. Bellmont wouldn’t listen to me. What do I know about gardening?”
“You know as much as that little thief does,” Alejandro said, and again Diego translated—while frowning at his brother.
“She wants some famous name to do it, so she can brag to the other women.” Elise stood up. “Maybe I should say my name is Caliente and that I have a degree from some made-up school in Italy.”
The two men were staring at her.
“What?” She looked down at herself. Her clothes were too big and she’d already pulled sticks out of her hair. “What’s wrong?”
“A rich man’s daughter,” Alejandro said. “Bryn Mawr.”
“I understood that name.” She didn’t wait for Diego to do an unnecessary translation. “Bryn Mawr isn’t exactly known for garden design. I studied a lot of art history. The closest I ever got to learning about garden design was studying Monet’s water lilies.”
The men were still staring at her.
Elise’s voice was rising as she tried to make them understand. “Mrs. Bellmont would never look at anything I proposed. She and my father can’t stand each other. He said that one time she made a pass at him, and after he turned her down, she...”
The men had their backs against the kitchen counter. They were waiting for her to see what they did.
“A woman scorned,” Elise said. “It’s quite possible that Audrey Bellmont would love to hire the daughter of a man who humiliated her.”
Alejandro and Diego smiled at her. A seed—a big one—had been planted. Elise got the drawing pad and pencils out of her suitcase. Where did she begin?
Diego put a plate of refried beans and rice beside her. “We go back to the Bellmonts’ on Friday. You have two days to come up with something to show her.”
“But I don’t know how to do this,” Elise said. “I’ve had no training. I don’t even know the size of the garden.”
Diego picked up the rolled plan off the countertop. “It’s all here. Just change it.”
“But—”
“Eat, then get to work,” Diego said.
Elise had an overwhelming sense of “I can’t” and “I don’t know how.” Alejandro said, “I hate the fishpond,” and Diego translated.
“Me too,” Elise said. “Her dogs would eat the poor fish. One time my mother said that Audrey Bellmont wanted to be a professional dancer but she got married instead so she gave it up.”