that wasn’t the point.
He looked at Keira, meeting her wary gaze, and nodded. “Yes. I will pay for your cat to have a heart transplant.”
She visibly relaxed. “Okay. Thanks. I’ll take good care of Lizzy. I promise.”
“Why Lizzy? Why not Muffin or Fluffy or whatever else it is people call cats?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m twelve, Malcolm, not five. It’s Lizzy for Elizabeth Taylor because she’s beautiful. I know it’s a cliché, but it reminds me of Angelina and I still miss her.”
He was having trouble following the conversation. “Angelina is your friend from Los Angeles. The, ah, person who took you in after you lost your mom?”
“I didn’t lose my mom. She took off and left me and then she overdosed.”
Keira was nothing like the sweet kids who had populated the sitcoms he’d watched when he’d been growing up. “But Angelina is the person who took you in?”
“Yes.”
“And he, ah, she is a transvestite?”
“Transgender. Do you know the difference?”
It was not his world, but he tried to stay relatively current. “Yes. He was born in the wrong body, so on the outside he’s a man but on the inside, she’s a woman.”
Keira looked impressed. “That’s right. Delaney is going to bring Lizzy by tomorrow. She wants to give me another day to rest.”
“Be sure to thank her for her help,” he said, thinking he would have to check with Delaney about the expenses she’d incurred taking care of the cat. “Do you know when she’s coming by?”
“Why?”
“I want to talk to her when you two are finished.” He thought about everything that had happened just over forty-eight hours ago. “She took care of you, went with you to the hospital. Without her, it might have been hours before anyone knew who you were. I want to thank her for all she did.”
“Oh, that’s okay then. She’s coming about three. You’ll still be at work.”
“I’ll come home early.”
Keira looked skeptical but didn’t say anything. Malcolm glanced at her tray.
“You’re not hungry? Do you want Carmen to fix something else?”
Keira reached for a piece of toast. “I’m hungry now. I have to get better so I can take care of Lizzy.”
“Then I’ll leave you to it.” He rose and returned the chair to the desk. “I’m working from home this morning. Let me know if you need anything.”
“I’m totally fine, Malcolm. You don’t have to worry about me.”
He nodded and went to his own suite of rooms. Once there, he couldn’t shake her words. She’d told him she was fine the first day he’d met her. He’d wanted to know about her time in foster care and what she needed before they flew up to Seattle. She’d repeated the sentiment when they’d arrived at the house and Carmen had shown her where she would sleep. Keira always said she was fine and except for Lizzy, never asked for anything. Until now, he’d always taken her at her word.
A prickling sensation along the back of his neck had him wondering if instead of assuming all was well, he should probe deeper and find out for himself. Which would mean getting more involved in her life, getting to know her, something that until now, he’d avoided. Not because he didn’t want to care, but because he didn’t want to disappoint. Unfortunately it seemed that was no longer an option.
* * *
Santiago waited for the last quarterly presentation to be finished before wrapping up the meeting. Alberto’s Alfresco had grown 4 percent in the previous quarter, thanks to an increase in prepared dinners. Not just entrées, but curated four-course meals that required the barest of preparation and yielded something even the fussiest of mothers-in-law would appreciate. Every sector was up, except for dried soups and powdered beverages—their sales had been flat, something Santiago hadn’t expected. He was going to have to do some research.
He left the conference room and headed to his corner office. April was still the rainy season in Seattle, but the skies had momentarily cleared, giving him a view of the city. His office faced east—not exactly the prime west, Sound-facing office that Malcolm had—but Santiago didn’t care. He could see the Sound anytime he wanted from his condo and he liked the relative quiet of his corner when he needed to number crunch.
He sat down at his desk and paused for a second, thinking he’d come a long way from the farm worker’s kid he’d been when he’d entered the University of Washington on a football scholarship. He’d barely gotten through high school with a C average—he’d known sports were his only way out and he’d done his best to excel. Football he understood. He didn’t love it the way some of the guys did, but he respected the opportunities it provided and he’d worked the program. Academically, he’d been terrified.
He remembered the first day he’d shown up in his dorm room. His roommate, some skinny kid with a serious expression and expensive luggage, had greeted him with even less enthusiasm than Santiago had felt. Malcolm Carlesso had been quiet, studious and about as much fun as termites. Two days later Santiago had been in the process of requesting a room change when he’d come back from practice to find a bowl of ice sitting in their small freezer. When he’d asked about it, Malcolm had said it was for Santiago’s ice pack for his knee. Malcolm had been going to the communal kitchen anyway and had brought some back.
That simple gesture had been the beginning of a friendship that had lasted over fifteen years so far. Malcolm had helped Santiago realize he was a whole lot smarter than anyone had known. Santiago had taught Malcolm to loosen up and get rid of the stick up his ass. They’d roomed together all through college, even getting an apartment together their senior year.
When Santiago’s mother had lost her job in Yakima, Malcolm had arranged for her to get a job at Alberto’s Alfresco, and the family had moved to Seattle. When Malcolm had wanted to expand the company, he’d hired Santiago away from the hedge fund where he’d been the finance VP. They were a team—no matter what, he had Malcolm’s back and he knew his friend would say the same about him.
Now he sat in front of his computer and pulled up the numbers for the soup and drink division. Something was wrong and he was going to find out what.
But before he’d gotten much past the first layer of numbers, Malcolm walked into his office.
“What did I miss?” his boss asked, taking the visitor’s chair by his desk.
“Nothing much. The quarterly meeting went well. We’re up 4 percent. I’ve emailed you the summary reports, just let me know if you want to get into more detail.”
“Any surprises?”
“Soups and drinks are down. I’m looking into it.”
Malcolm rubbed his forehead. “Thanks. I don’t think I’d be much help right now.”
“You have a lot going on. How’s Keira?”
“Physically?
