Marriage, Bravo Style!. Christine Rimmer
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He made a hissing sound between his gorgeous white teeth, and looked away. “Now you make fun of her name. A woman cares for me. Really cares. And you make fun of her name.” More Spanish swear words ensued.
“Tonio. Come on…” Now she felt guilty—which made no sense. He was breaking up with her. And she felt guilty…?
“No.” He showed her the palm of his hand. “It’s enough. I don’t know why I was so worried about telling you. It’s not as if you care.”
“Tonio, please…”
“It’s over. Finished.”
“Well, I know that. You said that. But couldn’t we at least—?”
“Stop.” He took out his wallet, threw some bills on the table. “You never respected me. You never wanted me.” He swept to his feet. “Well, I have a real woman now. Goodbye, Elena.”
And with a scornful toss of his proud dark head, he was gone.
Elena didn’t watch him go. She picked up the taco again and finished her lunch, her gaze studiously on her plate. If people were staring, she didn’t want to know. The whole situation was embarrassing enough as it was.
Not only had she lost Antonio, she didn’t feel all that bad about it.
Was there something wrong with her? Sometimes she really did wonder.
Her cell rang as she stood at the cash register paying the check. It was her sister.
Mercy said, “Hey.”
Elena signaled to the hostess that the five dollars in change should go to the waiter and smiled at the sound of her sister’s voice. “Hey.” She turned for the glass doors that led to the parking lot.
“Did you hear?” Mercy asked. “Dad thinks he’s found a buyer for the company.” Their father was a builder. He owned and ran Cabrera Construction. Lately, he’d been making noises that he wanted to retire. Mercy added, “Some friend of Caleb’s, I think.”
Caleb was one of Davis Bravo’s seven sons, and thus Elena’s half brother. He was also Mercy’s brother-in-law, since Mercy’s husband, Luke, was another of Davis’s sons.
Family connections. Truly convoluted, at least when it came to the Bravos and the Cabreras. It wasn’t quite as creepy as it might sound, though. Mercy, unlike Elena, was not related by blood to the Bravos—or the Cabreras, for that matter. Mercy had been adopted into the Cabrera family when she was twelve.
Elena reached her car and pulled open the door. “I remember now. Caleb mentioned that some guy he knows in Dallas—Logan somebody-or-other?—might be interested.” In the past few years, after the big revelation concerning Elena’s true parentage, Elena and Caleb had become not only newfound siblings, but close friends, as well.
“Not Logan,” said Mercy. “Rogan. Rogan Murdoch.”
“Rogan. Right.” Elena slid in behind the wheel and started the engine to get the air-conditioning going. April in San Antonio could be as hot as August in other places. “Caleb said the guy runs his family’s company.”
“Murdoch Homes,” Mercy confirmed. “And he wants to expand. He showed up yesterday. And he’s with Dad now….”
“With Dad at the office?”
“That’s what Papi said when I called.”
Elena readjusted the vent so the cold air blasted into her face. It felt good. “You think I should go over there? Check the guy out?”
Mercy laughed. “I would do it myself, but I have a sick heifer to treat.” Mercy was a large-animal vet. “And then I have to get home to take Lucas to Mommy and Me.” Lucas was her two-year-old. And she was two months pregnant with her and Luke’s second baby.
True love, a toddler and a baby on the way. Mercy had it all. Elena adored her big sister. Otherwise, she would be green with envy.
“I’ll take care of it.” She bent closer to the vent so the cool air flowed down the front of her shirt. “It’s Good Friday. What else have I got to do?” Elena taught middle-school social studies. Good Friday was a school holiday.
“You sure? I thought you mentioned something about lunch with Antonio….”
“Oh.” Elena slumped back in the seat and stared glumly out the windshield. “That.”
Mercy made a low, sympathetic sound. “What happened?”
“I just got dumped over fish tacos.”
“No.”
“Yeah.”
“Are you all right?”
“Sadly, yes. I’m just fine.”
“Oh, chica…”
“Tonio’s found someone else.”
“That bastard.”
“Her name is Tappy.”
“Tappy?”
“It’s what I said—and I can hear you laughing.”
“Tappy?”
“Stop it, Mercedes.” But Mercy didn’t stop. And then Elena was laughing, too.
Finally, Mercy pulled herself together enough to remark philosophically, “Well, at least your heart isn’t broken over this.”
“Yeah. It’s really depressing.”
“Elena.” Her sister’s voice was gentle, soothing. “There’s someone out there for you. I know there is.”
“Keep talking. I’m twenty-five. I’ve never been in love—not that I’m feeling sorry for myself or anything.”
“What’s this never? What about Roberto Pena?”
“That was high school. It’s been a decade, in case you didn’t notice.”
“It will happen. You’ll see.”
Enough of the pity party. Elena sat forward again and reached for the ignition key. “Gotta go. Got to check out this Rogan character, make sure Papi knows what he’s doing.”
“Hit me back. Let me know what you think of him.”
Cabrera Construction took up half a block in a street of auto repair shops and contractor supply outlets. Years and years ago, the place had been a used car lot, so it had plenty of parking surrounding the flat-roofed central structure, which was the former showroom. It had big windows in front and a giant reception area, with a warren of hallways and office space in back. Behind the main building, there was more parking and also four large sheds where Elena’s dad stored equipment and building supplies that weren’t currently needed on a job.