29 - NAZÁR
29
NAZáR
“Y ou’ve been grumpy for too long now, Nazár.”
“Hasn’t that always been your problem with me, Leona?” I bark.
“Not like before. You’re different now,” she says, walking farther into my office and sitting on the chair across from me.
“I have work to do, Leona. I’m sure that you do too.”
“I’ve done my work, Nazár. Now I’m working on my other work.”
“And that would be?”
“You,” she says, pointing at me.
I shake my head and say, “I don’t have time for the games, Leona. I’m trying to get this meeting back on that Lourdes & Heimer canceled at the last minute. If I don’t get this deal pushed through by next week, it will cost another hundred thousand. I have to get this land off my hands.”
“And you will, but you’ll be better when you deal with your issue. You do an amazing job when you’re focused and not stressed.”
I grumble, looking at her. “Are you willing to relieve me of my problem? Offering to crawl under my desk on your knees and remove the stress? I thought we’d moved past that, Leona.”
“You’re an asshole, Nazár. You are an asshole without a woman because you’re too proud to forgive the woman. Did you ever give her a chance to explain?”
“I heard her explanation. It didn’t make any difference. She lied!”
“She did, but she made a mistake. Trying to help one person out caused her to hurt another one. I’m sure that she didn’t mean it. Anyone could see that she genuinely cared about you, Nazár. Just as you were falling for her, she was falling for you. Don’t be an ass and be alone for the rest of your life when you don’t have to be.
“Shantel called and told me what happened in Switzerland. That woman cleared her schedule for you, and you spent all your free time moping and grumpy about a woman you kicked out of your life! If you were going to have her clear her schedule, the least you could do was give her a good beating and a good fucking!”
“Sounds like you’re more interested in what I need than I am.”
She holds a hand up and says, “Do. Not. Start!”
I’m sure the sneer that crosses my face is lascivious, but she knows what I’m thinking. I tease Leona often, but I don’t want her, and she wouldn’t cheat on Gary because she loves him.
She’s right, though. The only woman I want is the woman who dared cross me. The only woman I’ve allowed close to my heart since Bella died.
The only woman I love.
My eyes jolt away from the email I’ve been scanning, and I stare at Leona.
“What?” Leona asks.
“She didn’t do it,” I grunt.
“Who didn’t do what?”
“Princesa didn’t break the NDA.”
“How do you know that?”
“Izad has a techie that he works with. The guy, Brian, tracked the anonymous user who made those posts to a specific IP address.”
“And?”
“The IP address was here at the hotel on one of the computers available for guests to use in the conference room. That part wasn’t surprising, but he tracked the date and time the posts were created from the specific computer used. Brian then checked our security cameras and found the person who did it.”
“And?”
I turn my monitor to face her so she can see my open file. The picture is clear . . . a color picture of Felice Devereaux.
“But I don’t understand. Why would Felice do something like that? She’s been a guest for several years now. I know I told you she should be banned, and I didn’t trust her, but what was her motive?”
“Princesa.”
“You’re saying she was jealous of your budding relationship with Ms. Kelley?”
I nod.
“So, she decided to wreak havoc on you? That’s far-fetched.”
“Not really. Felice and I enjoyed each other’s company whenever she visited. We spent many nights together at BoDSMe. She noticed that I was attracted to Princesa. She also saw me taking Princesa to my home, something I’d never done with her. She approached me one night when I was heading home from the resort and asked me about it, and I told her it was none of her business. Then she tried several times after that to get me to go to BoDSMe with her or to her hotel room. I declined the invitation. I’ve never turned her down before.”
“The worst thing you can ever have against you, Nazár, is a woman scorned.”
“Obviously. You know what to do, Leona. Get in touch with Carson,” I say of my lawyer. “I want them all over her ass for breaking the NDA. Her membership is revoked, and she’ll deal with my attorneys in court. If I have it my way, she’ll never lay eyes on me again.”
“Okay,” she says, still sitting in her seat.
“Now that that’s addressed, tell me what brought you to my office. You must have wanted something, interrupting me in the middle of the workday.”
“You’re the grumpiest man I know, Nazár Rivera. But I love you as you are.”
I smirk. “Get to business.”
“Ms. Marino, the VP of Marketing and Communications for the Hollywood Chamber of Commerce, contacted Carson to confirm the nomination for Bella’s Star on the Walk of Fame has been approved.”
I nod but keep my thoughts to myself.
“Her parents have been reaching out to you, Nazár. Are you going to take their call?”
Bella’s parents were no fonder of me than my parents were of her. When she died, her parents blamed me. Not in the way that others did with the scandalous lies and rumors, but they blamed me for holding her back and not allowing her to rise to the level of stardom she could have achieved. They accused me of wanting her to be a “regular” woman, as if something was wrong with that. But if they’d known their daughter well, they knew there could never be anything “regular” about Bella.
“Nazár?”
“We have nothing to discuss.”
“They’ll be attending the induction ceremony next year, and they want to ensure that there will be no animosity and to present a united front with you on Bella’s behalf.”
“I know what they want. I am not their puppet. Now, Leona, if you have nothing else, I need to get back—”
“Deputy Prime Minister Okoye wants to meet with you.”
“About?”
“There seems to be an uptick in tourism, and it’s being attributed to Belle Baie. Even if people cannot get an invitation to the resort, they want to get as close as possible to where Bella Fouché died, especially since talk about her getting a star on Hollywood’s Walk of Fame is going around.”
“And what does the DPM think I can do for him?”
“They want us to consider opening the resort for—”
“Hell no!” I thunder, slamming my fist on the desk.
My water bottle shakes slightly, but Leona jumps.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize.
She holds her hands up and says, “It’s okay. You’ve been under a lot of stress lately.”
As she stands preparing to leave, there’s another knock on the door.
“Come in!” I bark.
Jules tentatively pops her head inside, large, round brown eyes staring at me. “Should I come back?”
I smile and shake my head. “Sorry, Jules.”
When I’m stressed, I work out of my home office instead of coming to my office at the resort hotel. But today, I wanted to be away from the house because thoughts of Princesa plagued my mind more than ever.
I kept heading to the dungeon to get a whiff of her scent or recall some of the scenes we acted out. It was impossible to get any work done, so I’d packed up and rode over to the hotel instead.
“How can we help, Jules?” Leona asks her sister in a soft tone.
“I thought you might want to see this,” she says, shoving her phone at Leona.
Leona takes the phone with a scowl, and then her eyebrows lift. She glances at me momentarily before looking at the phone again.
“What now?” I ask.
“Um, you may want to see this for yourself,” she says, walking to my desk.
I see her fingers fiddling with the buttons on the side, turning up the volume. Before she hands me the phone, I recognize Princesa’s voice. My anger demands that I kick them out of the office along with the phone, but my need and love for her overrides that anger.
I take the phone in my hands. Her hair is wild and curly, just as I like it, framing her beautiful, cinnamon, heart-shaped face and hanging around her shoulders. A frown mars her forehead, and those lips that bring me pleasure are puckered in disdain.
I turn up the volume a bit more and tune in to what she’s saying.
“. . . with any scandal. It’s the way that people are intrinsically wired. We would rather believe the worst about people than the best about them. I mean, seriously, people, consider what you’re saying. How does one supposedly kill their wife and her lover and dispose of her body? No one has heard anything about the lover’s body as it relates to a hiding place. No one has been reported missing and never found, nor has any DNA been discovered at his residence. Or what about the supposed male lover that he had? If his wife really found him with a man, and he chased her to stop her, where is this mystery lover who has no name and no one has ever seen or heard of?
“Then there’s the fallacy about him chasing after her in his car and forcing her off the road. Worse still, they claim she found that she was pregnant with her lover’s child and committed suicide. I mean, these rumors are extreme, horrific, and insensitive. I implore you to use common sense and compassion. How can this be true if, alternatively, the reverse is true? All these things can’t be fact.
“And, people, please give credence to the police officials. They thoroughly investigated Bella Fouché’s death and ruled it an accident. At what point did you bloggers, gossip columnists, and YouTube reporters become more skilled, talented, or credentialed than the government authorities?
“This year marks the fifth anniversary of her passing. We cite the useless axiom ‘rest in peace.’ Let’s let Bella Fouché do that if we ever really meant that. Let her rest and allow her family peace while they remain on earth. Your desire to see justice served is ill-placed. If justice were truly served, none of you would be spreading malicious lies and gossip.
“How can you serve justice when a wrong hasn’t been committed? The only offense here is the lies you spread about this woman and her husband. You refuse to let go of the past and move forward in a brighter future.
“I read somewhere that she will receive a star on Hollywood’s Walk of Fame next year. Let that be a time of celebration, love, and fond remembrance of the gift she shared with the world. Not your ill-gotten wishes on her family nor your scandalous need for wicked entertainment that causes you to stir up malice and mischief. You would say anything to get views with your clickbates and other tricks.
“You have tried this man in a court of unpopular opinion, and in your uneducated misguidance, you have found him guilty. Why? Because he won’t open his home or resort to ignorance, fallacies, and curiosity of the misdirected? I applaud him for the courage to do that and keep people out who mean him no good. Rather than creating havoc in other people’s lives, you foolish, foolish people—live your own life.
“Let’s let the fifth anniversary of Bella Fouché-Rivera’s death be a celebration of life, a memorial of her gift to the world, and a time to honor her family’s sacrifice for loaning her to the world for the short time that she was on this earth. Let’s keep them, her parents, her husband, and the rest of her family, lifted in our prayers. Let’s consider how it would feel to be in their place for a minute and then give them what we would want to have. In short, let’s treat others how we would want to be treated.”
She blows a kiss at the camera, winks, and I wonder if it’s for me before she says, “Signing off.”
Her live video ends, and the screen goes to other options for her channel and ones like hers. I stare at the phone until I hear Leona clearing her throat.
When I look up, she’s wiggling her fingers, and I hand the phone to her, which she returns to Jules.
“Thanks, Jules.”
She beams at me and says, “You’re welcome.”
I held a virtual staff meeting with my team while in Switzerland. I addressed what I believed happened and strongly discouraged my team from gossiping, addressing, or relating to what occurred in any form.
Although I’d done that, I knew I couldn’t stop them from looking Anyssa Kelley up once they had a name. Gary had informed me that most of my staff were now following her YouTube channel, feeling as if they knew her because she’d not only been a guest here but was extremely friendly with everyone.
So, it was no surprise that Jules had seen that video when it went live. Like most others, she probably had the notifications from Princesa’s channel turned on.
“It took courage for Jules to do that,” Leona says after the door closes.
“I know.”
“She was one of the few who knew just how upset you were after that happened.”
“I know.”
“Not to mention, she should be working and not on her phone,” Leona adds.
“I know.”
“Glad you know all this. Now, do you also know that you need to take your head out of your ass and do one better and reach out to the woman?”
I slide a scowl her way, but she maintains her smirk.
“You love her.”
“I love Bella.”
“That’s fine too, but you fell in love with Anyssa Kelley. I watched it happen and blossom.”
“I fell in love with Camila Martinez.”
“No. You fell in love with Anyssa Kelley because that’s the person that she showed you, no matter what she said her name was. Her soul, her personality, and her heart were authentically Anyssa. Or Princesa, as you like to call her,” she says sassily with a twinkle in her eye.
“Maybe it wasn’t meant for me to love another, Leona. It’s why things didn’t work out. It hurts too much,” I grunt, raking my fingers through my hair.
“You’re being foolish, Nazár. Haven’t you heard the old saying, ‘Second love is like a bottle of wine . . . It gets better with age’?”
“Or more foolish. With all these issues about Bella, maybe I should leave well enough alone. Things weren’t easy, but we loved each other, and I don’t want to forget that.”
“And you won’t. There’s one more quote I would like to leave you with, ‘You never forget your first love. But after that, it’s so much better.’”
Leona pulls the door open, turning her back to me.
“Leona?”
“Yes?”
“Would you please contact Ms. Martinez?”
“You mean Ms. Kelley?”
“No. Ms. Martinez. Find out if Princesa is still visiting her in Sonoma. That’s all I need to know.”
Leona winks, steps out the door, and closes it behind her.
Dropping my head into my hands, I close my eyes. “Bella, forgive me, love, for not being enough for you. Forgive me for making you feel you weren’t enough for me.”
Then I reflect on that for a while before whispering a prayer.
“God, if it is meant to be, take me to where Princesa is. May she forgive me for wronging her.”
My next phone call is to my parents and then my brothers. I need to make amends with them. They may never accept my choices, but they are my family.