Page 32 of It Takes Three To Tango

Not my fucking sister. She’s always been used as an example of how things should be done whenever I didn’t live up to his expectations.

“No, there’s no need for Martina to come.”

My father’s face on the screen goes still.

“Prove it to me. I need that information, Florencio. You have one more week to get it. If I don’t have it by then, Martina will be coming over for it and bringing you home.”

He ends the call without waiting for me to respond, but then he doesn’t want my response. He never wants to hear what I have to say. He didn’t even ask how Auntie was, though I’m not sure why that should surprise me.

I slam my laptop shut. I’m fed up with being treated like a child. He’s never done any differently and he never will. Ican’t live like this any longer. I want my own life. I want to live without the threat of losing it all constantly hanging over my head.

The migraine that has been hovering all morning descends, and I manage to stagger to get some meds before collapsing back into bed.

When I wake a few hours later, the migraine is just a shadow, but I don’t feel any better about my life. I go in search of Auntie and find her in her rooms. She’s resting on a couch, Juana reading to her.

“My father has threatened to send Martina over and drag me home if I don’t give him what he wants,” I announce.

Juana gets up to leave, but I doubt there are many secrets between her and my aunt, so perhaps she doesn’t want to listen to me complaining. I can’t blame her.

“You know I’m not going to give you that information, and neither is Señor Bernat.”

I flop down in the chair that Juana vacated. I knew Auntie wasn’t going to disclose what was in her will. She told me that the day I arrived. She would welcome my company, but she knew what my father was up to and would not be indulging him. She didn’t refute my assertions that he thought she might have left everything to a cat shelter. She’d just laughed. I don’t care what she does with her money. I just care about my life, and I do not want to go back to Buenos Aires. At least, not yet anyway.

“Have you considered why your father is being so insistent? Why does he need to resort to threats?”

I haven’t, not really. I thought he might have had themoney planned for a big investment opportunity that was coming up. My father has always been assertive when it comes to business, but he is becoming more aggressive, far more than I have ever seen him before. There has to be more to it than simply wanting to know his inheritance. There’s only one person I trust to find out that sort of information, so leaving my aunt resting, I go make a call.

Cooking always calms me, so I throw myself into making dinner for when Rafe and Constantin return. I try not to think about how much I’ve missed them today. I need the comfort of a familiar recipe, so I’m making pizzas. I stir the sauce while the dough is proving, letting my mind slip into the rhythm of what I need to do at each stage. I haven’t heard back from Julio yet, but then he said it would take a few days. I’m surprised he agreed to help me, but then he always did have a soft spot for me. He works in analysis management for Delgado Media. He’s amazing with data, and if anyone can find something amiss, it will be him. Still, it leaves my nerves stretched and I take a few deep breaths while I prepare the pizza bases. I make a variety, and if there are any leftovers, we can have them for lunch tomorrow.

I hear voices in the lobby of them returning, so I place the pizzas in the oven and set the timer.

“I’m in the kitchen,” I call out to them.

“Something smells good. Did you cook dinner?” Rafe asks, entering the kitchen.

“I did. Pizza. They’ll be ready in twenty minutes.” My breath catches like it always does when I see him now. I’m not used to the bubble of excitement that threatens to burstthrough every pore. Normally, I relish the feeling, but today it just makes me more highly strung than a violin. Does he look slightly nervous? No, maybe not. It is definitely my nerves.

“Thank you, I’m starving.” He fetches a beer from the fridge. “How are you feeling?” He comes over to me and I’m hyper-aware of his presence. “Was it awful with your father?”

“As bad as could be expected. He threatened to send my sister over to drag me home.”

“That seems harsh.” Concern creases his brow, and I wonder what it would be like to be in his arms. I could do with a hug right now. I could ask, but I don’t. Instead, I apply myself to setting out plates.

“I think there might be something else going on, so I called in a favour.”

“Oh?”

“I’ll tell you as soon as I can, I promise,” I say with a sly smile, receiving a little laugh in return.

“Wow, what is that delicious smell?” Constantin appears in the doorway. Rafe stiffens next to me. He doesn’t move or look around at Constantin, who is also taking a beer from the fridge. Constantin doesn’t look at Rafe either, and barely even looks at me. The hairs on the back of my neck rise. Something is off here; I can sense it. Did they argue? I thought I heard them talking in the lobby, so it can’t be that. But something is definitely different. I look between them, but neither of them says a word, and Rafe still hasn’t moved.

“Okay, what’s going on?” I ask.

“Nothing,” Constantin says. Taking a swig of his beer, he momentarily meets my eyes. I know that look. I’ve seen it plenty of times before.Guilt.

I back off a couple of paces so I can keep them both in my eyeline.

“What happened?”

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