Say You Love Me Read online

  “You need to shut your balcony doors at night.”

  I spun around, gaping at her.

  She stood in the center of the kitchen, frowning at me with arms crossed over her heavy bosom.

  “Oh,” was all I could muster. I was too much in shock to say anything else.

  She pointed at my chest. “And calling out the Lord’s name during an act of fornication is blasphemous.”

  Holy fucking fuck! She did not just tell me that.

  Jake bounced into the kitchen. He looked from me to Irma. “What’s for breakfast? I’m starving.”

  I plastered on a smile as Irma pushed past me and pulled a pan out of the oven. “I kept it warm for you,” she said to Jake, setting it on the counter. “Eggs, bacon, and homemade tortillas.”

  Jake licked his lips. “All right!”

  I continued with the forced smile, too afraid to move or say a word, lest I start screaming at Irma.

  I marched out of the room while Irma fed Jake. I hadn’t been this pissed in a long time. I grabbed my cellphone off the dresser, plopped on the bed, and dialed Sara.

  She answered on the first ring. “Hello, sweetheart.”

  I let out a shaky breath, struggling to find my tongue after Irma had rendered me speechless. “Hi, Sara.” I paused to clear my throat, thinking of the right words to say. Sara was probably still upset over the “orgy” incident, so I decided I’d work my way up to giving her my decision about Irma. “How are you feeling?”

  “After what those monstruos did to my niña, how do you think I’m feeling?” Her mother’s guilt dripped through the receiver, coating me in shame like thick molasses.

  “Look, Sara,” I said. “Cesar and I had no idea any of that was going on. We feel terrible about the whole thing.”

  “Hmmph,” she grumbled before mumbling something else in Spanish.

  Clearly Cesar and I hadn’t escaped blame. Damn that Ariana! She’d better come clean soon.

  I took a deep breath, then let the words out on a rush of air. “Sara, I actually called to talk to you about Irma. I really appreciate you bringing her to me, but I don’t think it’s going to work out.”

  “Y porque no?” she asked.

  That was the Spanish equivalent for “And why not?” only imagine Sara saying it with a bit of head and eye rolling in a voice dramatic enough to rival a Mexican soap opera actress.

  Drama or not, I wasn’t going to back down this time. Irma had made it clear she would be impossible to live with.

  “Well, for starters, she acts as if she’s running this house.”

  “She is?” Sara’s questioning tone was one of sarcasm, making me feel like a kid again. “That’s what a housekeeper does.”

  “But this is my house.” I hated the whine that slipped into my voice. If Sara needed any reason to believe I wasn’t mature enough to make my own decisions, I was giving it to her.

  “Niña, you do know your father slept with half the putas in Texas.”

  Ugh. Why did she have to bring up that man? “Yeah, I know he liked his women.”

  “If I’d let your bully of a father have his way, that house would’ve been turned into a brothel, but it’s the housekeeper’s job to make sure things run smoothly, and sometimes that means disagreeing with the owner of the house.”

  Clearly, I had offended Sara, but I’d never considered her just a housekeeper. She was more like the mother I never had. Surely, she had to have known that. Besides, how could she compare me to my abusive father? I was nothing like him.

  “I’m not my father.” I did my best to keep my voice steady, despite the fact that I was ready to pull my hair out with frustration. “I’m not bringing all sorts of men home, just Cesar.”

  “And his brothers.” I imagined Sara twisting a verbal knife in my gut with that comment. Was she going to use his brothers against me for everything?

  “Sara, I swear to you we didn’t know.” My whine intensified, along with my desperation. I was not letting her stick us with Irma. “Can you just please get Angus to come get her?”

  “And do what with her?” she snapped.

  I rolled my eyes to the ceiling, thankful Sara wasn’t here to see me. “Take her back home.”

  “Irma doesn’t have a home. She’s been living off the charity of others. She was living with her son, but he died New Year’s of a drug overdose.”

  Awww, shit. Irma would have a sob story, and Sara would find a way to use it against me. “I didn’t know.”

  “The woman is still grieving, and you want to fire her?” Sara’s voice turned shrill, like a cat in heat.

  “She’s just so judgmental.” Yes, I felt bad she’d lost her son, but that didn’t mean she had to make our lives hell.

  “Maybe she doesn’t want to see you go down the same path as her son.”

  Really? So Cesar and I were druggies now. “Sara,” I said, no longer caring how I sounded. “I’m not going down the wrong path. I’m taking care of my nephew. I have a kind, caring boyfriend.”

  “And what else are you doing with your life?”

  I imagined Sara frowning at me through the receiver. The same look she used to give me when I brought home an A-minus on an assignment, always pushing me toward perfection.

  “What do you mean?”

  “When Jake is at school, and Cesar is working.”

  My internal temperature soared. Was she judging me for not working? I had to quit my job after I got custody of Jake. There was just no way I could be there for him and work full time.

  “I go to the gym.” I toyed with the frayed end of a pillow cushion while mumbling into the receiver. “I go shopping. I play with the dogs. I visit my nana.”

  I usually checked up on Nana a few days a week, though Nana didn’t know me anymore. She was mostly consumed in playing with her doll, which was why my visits never lasted more than a half hour.

  “Your life needs meaning.”

  Ouch. “My life has plenty of meaning.” But I said it with less conviction as I thought about my days, tanning by the pool and reading celebrity gossip on my phone. Yeah, lately I’d been a bit of a bum, but I deserved a break. I’d had a miserable childhood, and my teen years weren’t much better. Despite working after school, shoveling horseshit, I’d made Valedictorian. I’d fought hard for my scholarships and kept up an impressive GPA through college. I’d put in countless hours at my advertising job. It wasn’t my fault I’d inherited my dad’s fortune and was able to quit working so I could take care of Jake. Besides, I deserved the money after the hell my dad put me through. Sara knew this. She had no right to judge me.

  “Maybe God sent Irma there to force you to live for others.”

  My throat constricted, and it took all my willpower to swallow my sorrow. How could Sara say I didn’t live for others? Did she not remember my abusive childhood? How hard I’d worked to please Dad, despite the fact he never paid me any attention unless he was beating me?

  I tapped an impatient foot on the thick carpet. “I do plenty for others.”

  She made an audible clucking sound. “Just two people, niña, and yet you have all this time and money.”

  It dawned on me Sara was piling on the guilt so I’d back off and let Irma stay. Well, it wasn’t going to work. “I’ll bring Irma up to the ranch today after I drop off Jake.”

  Irma hadn’t brought much with her. It wasn’t like she needed time to pack. If Sara felt so bad for Irma, she could give her a job at the ranch.

  “You’ll do no such thing. You cannot fire this woman after what she’s been through.”

  “Sara,” I begged, “please.” My chest constricted. She could not stick me with that woman.

  “Give it some time to get used to her,” she said in a soothing tone.

  Funny, but I wasn’t soothed. “I can’t get used to her.”

  “Give it a month. You might end up liking her.”

  “One month?” No fucking way. “I’ll go crazy.”

  “Fine. Two week
s. She has nowhere else to go, and Angus and I are still remodeling the ranch. Is two weeks too much to ask?”

  I ran a hand down my face, swearing under my breath. “Sara, you’re killing me.”

  “Considering the sacrifices I’ve made for you and Ariana, this is the least you can do.” I imagined Sara hammering the nail in my guilt-trip coffin with that line. Wow. She couldn’t have laid it on any thicker.

  “Two weeks, but that’s it.” What the fuck, Savannah? Why are you agreeing to this?

  “Bless you, niña.”

  I desperately wanted to back out, but she sounded so damn happy. Fuck.

  “Sara, one more thing.” I cringed, imagining she was in the room her laser-eyes boring holes through me while she mumbled over her rosary beads.

  “Yes?”

  I took a deep breath, then the words tumbled out of my mouth, practically tripping over my tongue. “About Cesar. He really is a wonderful man. He’s not like his brothers, I swear it.”

  “If you say so,” she said with a disinterested air.

  Oh, jeez. The least she could do was meet me halfway after I’d agreed to keep the prayer Nazi. “Ariana said he’s not invited to the wedding.”

  “Must you force me to look upon the hermano of the estúpidos who raped my daughter?” I imagined Sara swooning for emphasis. It was no wonder she liked to watch Mexican soap operas.

  “They didn’t rape her,” I said through clenched teeth. “They were all willing adults.” Was that the narrative Ariana had gone with? Gah! No wonder they’d judged Cesar so harshly.

  “She was coerced,” Sara said before ending with a choked sob.

  “Sara....” Ugh. It was clear there was no way I was convincing her otherwise, and even if Ariana came clean, I wasn’t sure Sara would believe her.

  “Yes?” she asked, sounding watery.

  “Never mind.” My shoulders slumped in defeat. It wasn’t right Cesar’s brothers got the blame. I knew Ariana, and I knew she hadn’t been coerced into doing anything. I’d seen Esteban in handcuffs, and I saw the bruises on Santiago’s wrists, too. “I guess I’ll see you in two weeks.”

  “Don’t be so sure of that,” she said with a confident lilt, all signs of her earlier sorrow forgotten.

  “All right. Bye.” I hung up, my throat constricting at the thought of having to tolerate Irma for another minute, much less two whole weeks.

  What had I just agreed to, and why couldn’t I say no to her? I was an idiot. A damned idiot. Worst of all, I knew Cesar wasn’t going to be happy about this. He’d already told me she had to go. I wasn’t looking forward to his reaction when I told him that Sara had somehow talked me into letting the judgmental church lady damn us to two weeks of hell.

  Chapter Eight

  My conversation with Sara played in my head like an old, broken record during the drive to Jake’s school. I was vaguely aware of my actions as I forced him to let me kiss him goodbye. I was so consumed in obsessing over every word, I’d almost missed seeing the crossing guard after I pulled away from the school. The woman screamed and shook her fist at me.

  I mouthed an apology, but she gave me the middle finger and turned her back on me.

  Get it together, Savannah, before you cause an accident.

  I clutched the steering wheel with white knuckles during the drive to the pet store. Nacho had chewed through all his toys, and we were nearly out of dog food and treats. As I put the car in park and unstrapped myself, I thought about the direction my life had gone as Sara’s admonition echoed through my skull. Your life has no meaning.

  Maybe Sara was right. Not long ago, I’d been a successful ad agent. Now I was my nephew’s chauffer, personal assistant to two spoiled dogs, and Cesar’s kinky sex slave. I had all this money and time, and what was I doing with it? Jake needed me, but he was in school most of the day. Macy and Nacho spent so much time playing, they only needed me for the occasional treats and scratches. Cesar worked long hours. It seemed lately he only had time for sex. I needed something else to give my life purpose, but what?

  No sooner had I walked into the pet store than I was met with a flurry of activity at the front door. Mothers supervised toddlers while they played in a pen of squealing puppies, and onlookers poked their fingers into crates of doe-eyed older dogs.

  Two women wearing volunteer T-shirts handed out flyers and assisted with adoptions, and I couldn’t help but be moved by all the tail-wagging dogs vying for attention.

  I walked up to a crate, holding my hand out to a spaniel who sniffed and then licked my finger, but a Chihuahua in the adjoining crate jumped at the bars and demanded my attention. I petted his head, my heart melting when he trembled and wagged his tail.

  I jerked back when a black Lab puppy licked my toes. A mother and her small child were walking him around the crates, having a difficult time getting him to follow directions.

  I thought about my beautiful home on over an acre of land and knew I had room for more dogs. But what would Nacho and Macy think if I brought home another friend? They got along with each other so well. Was I willing to disrupt their harmony?

  A few days ago, when I’d taken them for a walk, Nacho had growled at the neighbor’s two German Shepherds, all the hair on his back standing on end. The three of them had almost gotten into a fight while Macy helplessly whimpered by my side. It took all my strength to drag the hulking Lab away. Cesar had told me Nacho was protecting Macy and me, but what if he reacted this way to other dogs? I’d hate to adopt a dog, only to have to bring him back.

  A little brown terrier that looked too much like Macy whined at the gate, sticking her brown nose through the bars and looking up at me with the most pitiful doe eyes.

  I fought back tears as I scratched behind her ears. “Omigod,” I breathed, “I want them all.”

  “Just adopting one would be a great help.”

  I turned to the volunteer standing beside me, handing the terrier a treat. She was an older, mixed-race woman with long hair tied back in a scarf and hanging in a loose weave down her back. With her broomstick skirt that swept the floor and tie-dyed volunteer shirt, she was a throwback to the free-loving 1960s.

  I studied the terrier. “I don’t know how my other dogs would react.”

  “If you can’t adopt, then consider donating,” she said. “We’re a no-kill charity, and we’re trying to raise money to buy more land and build another enclosure.”

  Suddenly, all my disposable inheritance money wasting away in a bank account came to mind. “How much are you trying to raise?”

  “Seventy thousand for the land.” She clasped her hands together, smiling at a dog who scratched her leg. “We have about eighty dogs and could use the extra space.”

  “Eighty dogs?” I asked, laughing under my breath when the terrier nosed me, forcing me to scratch her head again. “Where are you keeping them now?”

  She frowned. “Just on two acres, but the ranch next door is willing to sell us two more. If you can’t afford to donate money,” she added, picking a mutt off the floor and cradling him in her arms, “you can donate time. We can always use more volunteers.”

  “I’ll volunteer,” I blurted without a second thought. I’d heard mixed reviews of animal charities. Some were wonderful, but others were unclean and overcrowded, forcing the dogs to live in inhumane conditions. If I got a firsthand look at the charity and liked it, I’d consider donating, too.

  “Great.” She handed me a pink flier with the words Rainbow Rescue scrawled across the top. “Here’s our address. Volunteer hours are every day from eight until five. Come when you’re available and stay as long as you can.”

  “Okay,” I said, laughing as the brown terrier licked my fingers. “I will.”

  I left the pet store with more than what I’d originally come for. In addition to the needed food and toys, I’d also bought a new dog bed and a tiny brown ball of fur, aptly named Gremlin. She licked my fingers all the way home, attempting several times to climb into my lap and finall
y getting her way after I pulled into my neighborhood.

  When I got home, I clutched Gremlin to my chest and introduced her to Macy and Nacho. I sat on the patio, smiling to myself as they became acquainted, tails wagging in full force. I pulled the pink flier out of my purse. The shelter was located just outside Houston, not too far from Jake’s school.

  My life had just found new meaning.

  * * *

  That night we ate dinner on the outside patio. Cesar had grilled steaks, much to Irma’s dismay. She’d been slaving over tamales all day, pouting when Cesar said he wasn’t in the mood for Mexican food. Despite the fact that I reassured her the tamales would be delicious for breakfast, she alternated between shooting eye darts at Cesar and frowning at Gremlin.

  “More fur for me to clean off the sofas,” she grumbled.

  Jake ate in a hurry, trying to be sly as he slipped the dogs food under the table. He couldn’t wait to go play with our new family member. Gremlin fit right in, helping Jake and Macy chase Nacho around the pool.

  When Irma arched a brow at Cesar, openly judging him as he popped the top to his second beer, I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Why had I let Sara talk me into keeping her?

  Cesar glared at our housekeeper. “Is there a problem, Irma?”

  She twisted her lips and looked away.

  Cesar let out a curse before looking at me. “This shit ain’t working, bella,” he said in a voice loud enough to carry into the neighbor’s yard.

  “I know,” I mouthed, hating myself ten times over for caving to Sara.

  Irma got up and began piling dishes, her eyes downcast while mumbling in Spanish.

  I nervously tapped my fingers on the glass table, worrying about how I was going to break the news to Cesar we’d have to put up with Irma for a while longer. He wouldn’t take the news well. Never mind how I was going to last two weeks with Irma. How was Cesar going to last?

  * * *

  Cesar sat on the edge of the bed with a grunt and pulled off his boots. “When is she going back?”

  I sat in a chair opposite him, clutching my shaky knees. “Two weeks.”

  He dropped his boot on the carpet with a thud. “What?”