Slightly Imperfect (30 page)

Coby's arm tightened around her shoulder, drew her in, signifying a stranglehold that would be hard—maybe impossible—to break.

She curled into him. "Oh, God, Coby," she crooned. "It's all over, and you're home. This is wonderful."

He kissed her temple and eased away, reaching for Ariana.

"Co-bee," she cooed fickly, her little nails scraping Zac's warm neck as she let go.

Coby took Alexander in his other arm, then knelt to Marcus's level. "Hey, guy," he said again, softly, winningly.

Marcus moved forward, away from Zac's side.

"Did you have fun?"

Zac smiled more generously than he felt. Victoria's edging around them all, closer to Zac, her hand finding his, helped.

Coby looked up from his squat. "I heard your message, Tori. Zac's too. I got the hotel van to bring me over so we'd have room for your luggage."

Josh, Sylvania and Lizbett were disembarking, bearing the first load of
stuff
.

"Put all of that in my truck," Zac said quietly to Josh as he passed. His grip tightened on Victoria's suddenly icy hand. "Use part of the back seat if you need too. Marcus can sit up front with Victoria and me."

Coby stood, laughing. Polished. Zac granted him that. His eyes, blue pits of amusement, met Zac's stony resolve.

Coby shrugged, elevating the twins for a moment. "You brung 'er to the dance. You'll be takin' 'er back. Right, Zac?"

"You're quick, guy." He slipped his arm around Victoria's waist and felt some of the tension leave her.

"Come with us, Coby," she said, softly. "We'll put the children to bed, and then the three of us will have champagne. I'm so glad you're home. Zac and I have something to tell you."

Coby was quick all right, but not quick enough to keep Zac from seeing a crease, so like Victoria's, manifest between his eyes.

"Victoria? It's Taylor Summers."

Her heartbeat snagged when she recognized the name of the
Aura
executive with whom she had negotiated her latest contract.

"I've been thinking about our last conversation. We've done a lot of preliminary work on the new product—
Luminesque
. We were planning on you and the twins." He paused. "You were planning on it too, evidently. I have the signed contract in front of me."

"You're saying you'll hold me to that contract?"

"I'm saying you need to look at it from
Aura's
angle. It's business. Big bucks for you and the kids. At what point did you change your mind?"

"When I realized the emotional damage I could be doing to my son."

"Sheila Massey picked up on that. Maybe the end would justify the means though, Victoria."

"I don't think so. I'm living now with ends that justify nothing. They became consequences. I'm trying to learn to think ahead, rather than attempt to piece fragmented lives together after the fact."

"You should have thought along that vein before you signed the contract."

"You're threatening me. I thought we were above that."

He sighed heavily. "Okay. Tell me what
you
would like."

She tried to keep her pulse out of her voice. "A campaign that includes my son. His name is Marcus. He's six years old."

"Sheila said he's stunning. Her words, not mine."

She sensed hope. "You wouldn't have to change the name. Doesn't
Luminesque
mean light—more or less—or reflecting light? He has wonderful hair."

"Sheila said he's—"

"Mexican. He's beautiful, Taylor."

"Is this a part of your sordid past?"

She had never met Taylor Summers, beyond the telephone, but he knew her well enough to chide her. He had been through all the ambiguity of Tommy, during her past
Aura
association, knowing something was amiss, never knowing what.

"Yes. But more importantly, he's part of my future."

"Well."

She held her breath.

"Maybe we could feature an all-around politically correct shampoo.
Blend
, maybe. What do you think of that name?"

"I need this contract, Taylor. I would be grateful."

"I'll get back to you. You don't have any more surprises?"

"No. Not at the moment."

* * *

"Good morning, Tori."

"Hello, Coby." She held her cheek up to his kiss, admitting him to the suite as she waved goodbye to Zac and Marcus before the closing elevator door could shut them off from her.

"I brought you something." He handed her two folded-back newspapers, eyeing her robe, her uncombed hair. "Where are
dos amigos
off to so early?" He grinned wryly.

"Zac jogs by here in the mornings—most mornings. Sometimes he picks up Marcus, to go fishing, or just to spend the day with him."

"Nice guy." He smiled, his eyes assessing her again.

She spared him a smile as she unfolded a paper.

"That's the
Ramona News
," he said. "It's also in the Houston paper."

She and Coby had driven up to Port Arthur two nights before to hear Zac speak. The News contained a picture of the two of them with Zac and Gerald along with a short, factual, unbiased article. The Houston paper contained a similar picture, with in-depth coverage. Gerald's views on gambling, Zac's role as a local fisherman who advocated gambling, Victoria and Coby's familial affiliation with Pierce, and his views on gambling. The story raised question as to whether Victoria and Coby's attendance at the rally was a statement opposing their father's. Most disturbing was the final paragraph: a brief synopsis of the scandal five years ago, Pierce's subsequent withdrawal from the senatorial race, and Victoria and Coby's untimely reunion.

The
Sun
contained Pierce's most recent blast against gambling, fraught with crime statistics.

In the sunny kitchen, Coby looked across the top of his coffee cup, searching her reactions. "Are you upset? I can see the coverage surprises you. You're forever naïve. It's sweet, Tori."

She felt a little sick. "I'm drowning in
déjá vu
."

"I'd cool my jets for a while, considering Pierce."

"I'm not so sure I think gambling is the curse of Texas."

"He won't give a damn what you think."

"I'm not sure I owe him anything, Coby." She raised her fingertips to her temples, pressed. "No. I
am
sure. I don't."

"Well, maybe. But I probably won't be attending any more enlightening lectures on the fastest way to plunge Galveston County into hades." He smiled placatingly.

"You agree with Pierce?"

He stretched, then settled into his chair. "Until I get a job and a place to live, his opinions are mine."

"Then you won't be at the Fischer's Landing party tonight?"

"No. And if you've learned anything in the past twenty-nine years, you won't be there, either."

Zac's face, his dark eyes staring into hers across a pillow, just minutes before Coby had arrived, rested gently on her resolve. "I'll be there. Simply because I
have
learned a few things in those twenty-nine years—but it's all right, Coby. I'm not asking you to choose. I don't need that anymore. I'm my own person. Now."

* * *

"Victoria, this is my father, Alejandro."

She extended her hand, but it went unaccepted until Zac leaned down to the wheelchair, caught his father's big, calloused hand and wrapped it around hers.

"This is my mother, Luz."

Luz held her hand and met her eyes. Some of the discomfiting warmth in Victoria's throat, caused by Alejandro's rebuff, subsided.

Zac eased his hand to the back of her arm and squeezed. "This is my brother Pete and his wife Estancia. My sister Carmen and her husband Luis." He propelled her along.

She had seen shorter reception lines at weddings.

"My sister Concepcion and her husband Rafael." His voice changed noticeably, and she caught his glance when he announced, "This is my brother Luke and his wife Jan." The elation so evident in his tone was real and unguarded, characteristic of Zac. "Jan is a
gringa
, too." His voice was a stage whisper, and reactions from the group ran the scale from smiles to groans. "And this is my ex-wife Maggie."

Maggie's hand got lost in Victoria's. She tried not to imagine Maggie lost within Zac's embrace.

The formally attired men made a splendid display. Zac, the most resplendent of all, wore a black tux that complimented his silvering temples, a pleated shirt and a red cummerbund accenting his trim waist.

The Abriendo women had come as a group, Maggie included, a few days before, to the Love Victoria hotel boutique. They had taken anything they desired, signing Zac's name by prearrangement. Now, Victoria tried not to notice that their hair, nails and makeup didn't measure up to their clothing. Maggie and Jan—more worldly working women—were much better turned out. All in all, the family made an impressive addition to Gerald Fitzpatrick's unveiling of Fischer's Landing.

"It's wonderful to meet you," Victoria said collectively. When they nodded and smiled, reserving verbal judgment, she added, "Especially you, Mr. Abriendo. Zac speaks of you often, and Marcus is so fond of you."

Zac's smile broke through Alejandro's stony silence. "Good going, Papa. You'll live to regret those words."

"Would you like to dance, Victoria?" Luke interjected.

"I'd love to."

As Luke led her away, she heard Zac's invitation to Maggie.

* * *

"She's beautiful, Zac." Maggie peered around Zac's upper body to watch Victoria and Luke. "Perfect is the only thing you'll accept. How do you manage that?"

"I'm a quick study after all those years with you." He bent, pressed his mouth to the top of her head. "You ruined me for mediocre."

She cocked her head, looked straight into his eyes. "Until you gave in to your craving for Anglo women."

Admitting his craving, the underlying issue with Carron, troubled him, especially when he considered Victoria. Classically Anglo, as Maggie had qualified her before.

"That has nothing to do with your lack of perfection, Magatita." He smiled softly, a tender chastisement, full of hope.

"It's prejudice," she said emphatically. "The worst kind because it's against your own people—your own daughter. Have you thought of that?"

"Yeah. I have." His Anglo affinity had always felt wrong; nothing stronger than a sense, guilt thriving in the back of his consciousness. But now Maggie reminded him so articulately by placing names and faces where they belonged. "Coveting Anglos is the flaw I've never been able to overcome."

Her smile was begrudging. "You're going to get hurt, querido," she said tenderly. "I feel it."

"Thanks, Maggie. For caring."

They danced in silence until she asked, "What did you do with Ian?"

He hid his apprehension in silence.

She lifted her head from his chest, tangled emotions scuttling around in her ebony eyes. "He wasn't perfect, but it should have been my decision."

"Trust me, Maggie. There was more to it than you—" He couldn't voice what Ian had alluded to. "Let it go. Please."

She moved closer, wordlessly sagging.

"Luke told me you loaned Ian all the money from the Houston house."

Her eyes clouded. "Before you wisely warned me. Maybe I could have gotten it back, if you'd given me a chance."

"I'll buy the house from you. You can pay me back when you fix it and sell it. Partners. How does that sound?"

"Encouraging." She snuggled against his chest. "Very encouraging."

* * *

Zac retrieved Victoria from Luke and led her to one end of the big tent. They danced to rock until she was breathless, then slow danced to the orchestra at the opposite end. He enjoyed watching her attempt decorum as she melded into him, her breath quickening now for a different reason.

"Your family is lovely, Zac." She stared over his shoulder.

"Yeah, lovely." He smiled wryly. "If Shakespeare was alive he could rewrite Romeo and Juliet. Featuring you and me."

She smiled softly, tolerantly.

"Papa doesn't trust gringas."

"Not even Jan?"

"He worships Jan, but she's earned it."

"Then there's hope for me."

"Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen."

"That's beautiful."

"It's not original, just Biblical. Come out to the office with me. I have something to show you."

"I've seen it," she whispered in his ear. "It's superb."

"I have a couple of tricks I've been saving," he whispered back.

* * *

Zac unlocked the door to the trailer office, held it open and found a light. A window cooler pumped frigid air into the little enclosure. He guided Victoria to a counter cluttered with blueprints and hand drawings, and selected the one rolled and tied with a powder-blue ribbon.

She met his eyes, smiling, as he slipped the ribbon off.

He spread the architectural rendering on a table, weighting down the corners, then drew her forward, and stood behind. His crotch pressed her derriere, mimicking her first visit to Fischer's Landing. Tonight she didn't jerk away, but he said, "Oops," and stepped back a little.

She laughed and snuggled in again. Her long hair swung forward on either side of her face as she bent to the plans. She read aloud, "Eleven-twenty Bay Shore Drive. Children's Wing."

"What do you think? It's a surprise, but I haven't signed off. You can change anything." He circled her waist with his arms. "Do you understand the plan?"

"Clearly. It's wonderful—exciting. But so many rooms."

The plan depicted a large addition onto the existing house, multiple bedrooms and baths, a large playroom in the center, even a galley kitchen where he imaged Sylvania making peanut butter sandwiches. "I told you.
Cafe-au-lait
babies. Are you still game?"

"It sounds wonderful." She revolved in his arms, lifting her face for a kiss.

"I looked up your decorator. The one who did the suite and your old Love Victoria offices." He held her face between his palms, reaching into her eyes, offering, "He can redo the existing house for you. Anything you want."