Evenings at the Argentine Club (32 page)

“You’re welcome. Victor, I…”

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay out there? Do you need anything?”

He shook his head sadly. “No, I don’t need anything.”

“Okay,” she said, wishing that for once, he’d tell her he needed
her
.

“What about you?”

What about her? She missed him and was lonely. She needed what she always needed: his arms around her, wanting her. But she
hugged her arms around herself. “I’m fine, too.”

“Okay. Good night, Jaqui.”

“Good night.”

He walked out and closed the door. She locked it and shook her head. Why couldn’t she stop loving him once and for all?

Victoria stopped by La Parrilla to see if she could lend a hand, see how things were going. She found the manager that her
father hired to be very efficient. The cooks and waiters worked as well as, if not better than, when Victor ran the restaurant.
With Victor, they had wiggle room. They were family to him, and though he worked everyone hard, he also didn’t mind if they
took care of personal matters or just rested during the lulls. The new manager wasn’t their friend. He was their boss, and
they knew it.

Victoria spent Saturday and Sunday with him, and when she told him she was there to help, he gave her specific tasks in the
office, nothing in the restaurant itself. Here, too, he had reorganized the office. On the desk, Victoria found bids from
various interior designers for the new restaurants. She studied each. When Victor stopped by on Sunday night, Victoria asked
him about them.

“I haven’t had time to look at those very closely. But I have to,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “What to you
think of ’em?”

“I don’t think any of them are capturing the essence of La Parrilla, the Argentine tone that will distinguish it from other
steak houses.”

Victor put his feet up on the desk and leaned back in the chair. He drank a bottle of cold water. “Those were exactly my thoughts
when I scanned them.”

She picked up one of the proposals. “This looks too much like any other chain restaurant. There’s no warmth to it.”

“I told those people I wanted an outdoorsy look, but not too outdoorsy. Leather. Cows. As if the customers were spending the
day at an estancia.”

She nodded. “Right. This isn’t it.”

“No.”

“Neither are the other two.”

He studied her. “What would
you
do?”

“Well.” She shrugged and picked up a pencil. She sketched on a piece of drawing paper as she spoke. “An estancia. Let’s see.”

“You don’t even know what an estancia is, do you?”

“A farm, Dad.”

“No. More than a farm. It was the gaucho’s life. His spirit was part of the land.”

Victoria frowned. “But I thought gauchos were sort of wanderers and the rich Europeans owned the land.”

“Don’t argue with me. Americanos think of Argentina and they think of gauchos. Beef. Tangos. That’s what we have to have.”

“Okay.” She thought. “Gauchos, outdoors, beef, tangos. Outdoors,” she repeated, and started drawing.

Victor watched her sketch. “What’s that in the center there?”

“It’s a grill.”

“What the hell is the grill doing in the middle of the restaurant. The kitchen’s back there.” He pointed to the back on her
drawing.

“Well,” she said. “I was thinking that if you wanted to make it like a weekend at an estancia, you should have a big fire
pit. Right here in the center of the restaurant. People could choose their cut of beef, barbecue it, and take it back to their
table.”

“Cook their own meat! Are you crazy? What if they don’t do it right?”

“Wait a minute,” she said. “Hear me out. You’ll have a cook stationed at the grill, of course. Giving advice and marinating
the beef.” She glanced at Victor to see if he was following. A frown wrinkled his forehead. “People love being in control.
This way, they’d participate in the making of the meal. And it would be all they could eat. It would give the restaurant a
modern feel, and it would look really cool with an open grill in the center of the restaurant.”

Victor seemed to be considering it as he studied the sketch. “Maybe you have a point. The grill could be sort of an attraction
bringing everyone together.”

“Right, people could chat and laugh as they’re standing around the huge grill, like they would in their backyard.”

He stared at the drawing. “So would the circle be sort of doughnut shaped? The cook in the middle?”

“Exactly.”

“But what if they don’t want to cook their own food?”

“You’d still have a menu for them to choose from, and cooks in the kitchen.”

He arched an eyebrow. “I think it’s… brilliant,” he said simply. “It will make La Parilla stand out. But I’m going to have
to run this by the architects. And probably by the marketing team I hired. See if they think this idea would appeal to customers.”

“Sure.”

“But I like it.” He smiled. “A lot.”

“Thanks. And the name will make more sense since La Parrilla means ‘the grill.’ ”

“So is this something you know how to draw up to give to an architect and design crew?”

“I can do this for you, sure,” she said enthusiastically. This was something she could help him with that she’d actually enjoy.

“Then you’re hired. Give me a real bid to present to the bankers.”

“I wasn’t going to charge you for this, Dad.”

“Of course you’re going to charge me. This is your new career, no?”

“I haven’t opened up my business officially, but yes.”

“Then this will go in your portfolio.”

Victoria was so happy, she dropped to his side, and wrapped her arms around him. “Thanks, Papi.”

He patted her back. “Don’t thank me. Just do it right. I’m counting on you.”

And she wouldn’t let him down. This was the kind of collaboration she’d always dreamed about having with her father. Having
him really listen to her opinions. Taking her suggestions seriously rather than giving orders. Even if she had to go without
sleep, she’d make sure she executed every detail of this design flawlessly.

Eric couldn’t believe that a week after Thanksgiving he got an offer on the house. Excited and nervous at the same time, he
stopped by the real-estate office to meet with the agent. But when he saw the offer, his good spirits sank. The number was
much lower than he expected. He sent a questioning look to the agent.

“Sorry,” she said. “But prices keep dropping. And buyers are few these days.”

Eric stared at the number and nodded. “I’ll get back to you,” he said.

When he got home, Victoria was home for a change. He didn’t mention the offer. She sat in the living room, poring over design
books. He sat beside her. She leaned over and offered him a kiss.

After the sweet kiss, he winked. “What do you say we spend the weekend in the mountains. No snow yet, but we can rent a cabin,
make love in front of a fireplace, sleep on a bear skin.”

Victoria wrinkled her nose. “Bear skin? Yuck.”

He chuckled and wrapped an arm around her waist, caressing her soft skin where her jeans and her top met. “Okay, we’ll skip
that part.”

“I’m going to help my father out at La Parrilla this weekend. I’m sorry.”

Help her father out? That shocked the hell of him. “When did you start working there again?”

“I didn’t start working there again. He offered me the interior design job for the three restaurants,” she said, barely able
to contain her excitement. “I’ve got to meet with the architects and go over preliminary sketches, and—why are you looking
at me like that?”

He dropped his arm. How was he looking at her? “I guess I’m surprised. Actually, I’m fired up for you. That’s a huge step
for your dad. A major compliment.”

“I know.” She placed a hand on her chest. “I wanted to cry, I was so happy.”

He smiled.
Way to go, Mr. Torres
, he thought.

She angled her head. “What’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing. Like I said, I think it’s awesome.”

“You just don’t seem… that happy.”

“Well.” He sighed. “I wasn’t going to tell you yet, but we got an offer on the house.”

“That’s great,” she said, looking a bit confused at his own lack of enthusiasm.

“Not great. The offer is low.”

“Oh. How low?”

“It’ll cut my profit by a third. And with the extra expenses… well, it wasn’t what I expected.”

She placed a hand on his knee. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “At least it’s an offer. We can finally be done with this.”

She nodded. He sort of hoped to see a look of disappointment in her eyes. He certainly wasn’t thrilled about having to move
out. But her feelings didn’t show.

He leaned back into the couch, thinking maybe it was time they had the talk. “Remember that night that I went out to think,
and you wanted to know what was bothering me?”

“Yeah. The night I got the best purse and wallet and key chain I’ve ever had in my life?”

He smiled. “Yes, that night. Well, that night I was kind of wondering… what we were going to do when the house sold.”

“I don’t understand? Celebrate?”

“I mean
we,
Victoria. You and I.”

Her face grew serious. “What did you have in mind?”

“I had always planned to go back to Austin. And after seeing what this house is going to sell for, that might not be a bad
idea still. California real-estate needs to plateau before an investor can work it well.”

“But you don’t want to leave,” she said. “You’ve been so happy being back. You’re enjoying being with your parents and even
hanging out at the club.”

And being with her. She forgot that part. But yes, he’d miss the other things, too. It was damn depressing. Lately, he’d been
considering asking her to go with him to Austin. But after her announcement that she planned to be the interior designer for
La Parrilla, that wasn’t going to happen. He wasn’t even going to mention it. The job for her father was a great opportunity
for her. Much better than helping him stage another property. “I gotta go where I can make money, Vicki. It’s my job,” he
said.

She stood. “Your mom isn’t going to take this well.”

He reached for her hand. Then stood and hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. “You’re taking it well.”

She rested her arms on his shoulders. “Not really. I’m trying not to be a needy girlfriend that smothers you like your well-meaning
mother did. So, I’ll support whatever you feel you have to do, Eric.”

“You’re something special,” he said. “Aren’t you going to miss me?”

“
So
much that I don’t want to think about it.” She kissed his chin. “I’m still hoping you find another property out here. You’ll
keep looking?”

“Of course.”

Her fingers played with his hair. “Good, because you do belong here, you know.”

With her? Why wasn’t she saying it? “I don’t want to go. That’s the truth.”

She responded only by moving her lips over his.

“Victoria,” he said between her kisses.

Her hand traveled to his belt buckle. “I don’t want to talk about any of this anymore. You’re here now. Let me enjoy you.”
She unzipped his pants.

He looked down. “Ah, okay.”

Her hand slipped into his shorts and he inhaled sharply as she touched him.

“Shit,” he said. And he lifted her into his arms and carried her to his bed. Fine, they wouldn’t talk about it anymore. The
plan was to find another house to flip and hope he didn’t lose his ass on the next one like he would on this one. They made
love, but something was lacking. The passion they always shared. The feeling he felt that their souls had come together. And
almost immediately afterward, she slipped out of bed.

“Where are you going?” he whispered.

“I’ve gotta finish what I was doing. I’ll come back later.”

He rested his back on the headboard and watched her walk out. She was pulling away from him. And damn it, there wasn’t anything
he could do about it, no promises he could make. At some point, he fell asleep waiting for her to come back. But when he awoke
in the morning, he knew she never had.

V
ictor was still congratulating himself Monday morning as he drove to Santa Monica over the interaction with Victoria. He’d
listened to her, given her the benefit of the doubt, hadn’t criticized, and had been rewarded immediately by the look of satisfaction
on her face and gratitude in her eyes. He’d felt the wall between them crumble. And a new connection between them emerge,
different from the one they’d shared when she was a child. Because she wasn’t a child, he reminded himself. She might always
be his baby, but she was a grown woman. Good and bad, in his opinion. All the complexities of a woman that made it hard to
relate to her sometimes, but wonderful in the sense that she saw things he missed.

Mostly he was happy that he’d have her close by again. Not working for him, but working with him. He was damned proud.

When his cell phone rang, he answered using his Bluetooth.

“Hi, Dad.”

Carmen. “Hola, mi amor.”

“Are you busy?” she asked.