“The switch is to the right of the barbecue.”
Pablo’s drying off as I look around the covered grill. I spot it and flip it on. It’s not long before I see steam rising, but it’ll probably take a few hours for the water to be completely warm. We head inside, but his phone rings before we can start breakfast.
He glances at it before looking at me and showing me the screen.
Tío E
That doesn’t make me nervous or anything. Fucking hell.
“Hola, tío.”
“Hola, sobrino.”
“Flora está conmigo. ¿Debería ir a la oficina?” Flora is with me. Should I go in the office?
“No, ella también debería escuchar esto.” No, she should hear this too.
I make out what Enrique says since I’m standing so close to Pablo. That makes my heart rate spike. I figure it shouldn’t since Enrique wouldn’t allow me to hear anything that’s too bad, right? If it were Cartel business, he’d tell Pablo to take the call alone.
Pablo puts the call on speaker.
“Hola, jefe.”
Pablo takes my hand and leads me into the living room as the conversation continues in Spanish.
“Enrique, please.”
“All right. Thank you.” What else do I say?
Pablo senses my nervousness, so he tugs my hand as he sits. He pulls me onto his lap, and I curl up. He hands me the phone as his left arm wraps around my back, and his right hand slips under my robe to stroke my ass. I rest my head on his shoulder and put the phone on my thigh as I brace myself.
“Tío, have you heard fromPapáor Alejandro?”
“Yes. They both checked in tonight.”
We’re six hours ahead of New York, so it’s two in the morning. Did Enrique wait until it was a reasonable time to call us, or is he a night owl?
“What did they have to say?”
“Alejandro discovered who helped Humberto. It was Néstor Guzman.”
“The Minister of Finance and Public Credit? He’s—he’s—Does my mother know?”
I pull away from Pablo. I’m furious. I ball my hands into fists and clench my jaw.
Maldito pedazo de mierda. Motherfucking piece of shit.
“Chiquita?”
Pablo whispers the word, but my gaze jumps to the phone. I don’t want Enrique to hear him call me that. Pablo pats my ass as he mouths his words this time.
“He knows.”
I don’t want to know how. I can’t think about that right now.
“He’s my mother’s boyfriend. They’ve been together for years. She has a habit of picking men who won’t marry her. He says he can’t have any public ties to a cartel family.”
Technically, neither side of my family is officially in a cartel. They definitely aren’t inthe Cartelsince Enrique wouldn’t have them after the disaster between my father, and Luciana and Esteban. But my father’s family’s rivalry withlos Diazand myabuelo’songoing business with them as Enrique’s underling keeps them connected.
