Chapter Nine #2
Putting her cheek on his chest, Beth cuddled into him thinking what a great life Carlota had. Blanca, too. Both de la Rosa sisters had always had complete freedom to follow their dreams. Xavi, too.
During the days she’d been in bed with her sickness, she’d spent a lot of time thinking about the past; old memories she’d never given air to in the intervening years had resurfaced, one of them being the time Xavi had told her of his childhood dream to grow up into a man just like his father.
She supposed it had stood out because he’d so rarely talked about his father.
Back then, she’d found his reluctance mystifying.
Pretty much everything she’d learned about Javier de la Rosa had come from Xavi’s mother and sisters, who’d had no such reticence.
Back then, Beth had feared death, but she hadn’t known it, not like Xavi did.
She’d been too young and unworldly to understand how some wounds ran too deep to bring to the surface, and as she thought this, an old conversation with Carlota rose.
They’d been playing tennis, Beth and Carlota versus Xavi.
They’d had to cheat their heads off to beat him.
He’d taken his revenge by throwing first Carlota and then Beth—he’d had to chase her round the massive garden to catch her—into the swimming pool, fully dressed.
He’d sauntered back into the villa, whistling jauntily.
Carlota had wrung the water from her hair and laughingly sighed.
‘It’s so good to see this side to him again. ’
At Beth’s puzzlement, she’d smiled sadly.
‘He’s not been like this since Papi died.
Happy, I mean. It’s been so long that I thought I’d imagined how he used to be.
’ She sighed again. ‘I think he felt it was his duty to become the man of the house and care for us, especially those months Mami wasn’t herself, but… ’
‘What?’ she’d asked into the silence.
Carlota had shaken her head. ‘I don’t remember seeing him cry, not even at the funeral.
I don’t think he let himself. I don’t think he’s let himself feel many things since then, and now you’re here…
’ Eyes bright with emotion, she’d thrown her arms around Beth’s neck and kissed her cheek. ‘Thank you.’
‘Are you okay?’
Xavi’s voice cut through the memory, and she undug the nails she’d unwittingly stabbed into his chest and kissed it better.
‘Sorry,’ she whispered. ‘And yes, I’m fine. Just thinking.’
‘About what?’
‘You and your family.’ She kissed the marks made by her nails again. ‘I was thinking about your father and how proud he must be of you all.’
The arm holding her tightened.
‘You miss him still, don’t you.’
He breathed heavily, then slowly said, ‘Very much.’ His hand groped for hers. ‘It is strange, but I’ve thought about him more in recent weeks than I’ve done in years.’
‘Good thoughts?’
‘Always. He was a good man.’
‘I know,’ she said softly. ‘And I know how hard you tried to fill his shoes when he died.’ She knew a lot of things; things she’d forgotten.
Deliberately forgotten?
No, she thought painfully. Not deliberate. Necessary.
Painting him as a selfish bastard had made it easier to cope with the pain of living without him.
‘I idolised him,’ he said simply. ‘To me, there was no better man and no better father.’
She pressed her ear tighter to his thumping heart and squeezed his hand.
‘You’ll be a wonderful father, too,’ she whispered, a realisation that made her own thumping heart swell, because at heart, Xavi was a good man.
One of the best. He wasn’t perfect, but neither was she, and he always did what he thought was for the best. Best of all, he was hers. Would always be hers.
And she would always be his.
The rest of the day was spent nibbling at a variety of food, watching more mindless action films, playing chess—Xavi beat her three games to nil and even pretended to be a magnanimous winner—and even making love.
It had been very gentle, but when Beth fell asleep that night wrapped in his arms, it was with a heart full of contentment.
‘I have good news for you,’ Xavi announced the next evening soon after he arrived home from work.
He’d found his wife—how he loved calling her that in his head—sipping water and catching the last of the sun on the roof terrace.
He’d called her a couple of times that day to check on her—it wasn’t a breach of his self-determined rules of home and work separation because rules were put aside for sickness.
That was basic humanity. Looking at her now, he estimated that she looked 90 per cent better.
The 10 per cent was the weight she’d lost. She would never look anything less than beautiful to him, but he hoped she regained the weight soon.
There could never be too much of Beth, and with that in mind, he was having dinner brought up to them on the roof.
She raised a curious eyebrow. ‘Which is?’
‘Probate has been granted.’
He didn’t know what kind of response he expected, but the deflating of her shoulders was nowhere near it. ‘That doesn’t please you?’
She sighed and tilted her head back. ‘Not really. It just feels…’ She shrugged.
‘I don’t know how I can feel pleased about an inheritance that my grandfather had to die for me to receive.
It feels wrong.’ She shook her head with another sigh.
‘His death still doesn’t feel real to me.
I haven’t mourned him properly, and I don’t know if that’s because I wasn’t close enough to him or because of everything that’s been going on with you and me, but you tell me probate’s been granted and all I feel is guilty that he’s left me all this money when I didn’t love him enough to mourn him. ’
‘He wasn’t an easy man to love,’ Xavi admitted.
‘I knew him all my life and worked closely with him for many years, but I haven’t felt his death on an emotional level, either.
He was a brilliant man, but hard and stubborn in mind and heart.
I think he loved you as much as he was capable of loving anyone. ’
‘Do you think…?’
‘What?’
She met his stare. ‘That he was gay?’
‘What makes you think that?’
‘Just a feeling. It would make sense of a lot of things. I came close to asking him a couple of times, but lost my nerve.’
‘I never knew him to have a partner of either sex,’ Xavi said slowly, thinking hard.
‘He kept his private life very private. Your grandmother left him before I was old enough to remember her. I don’t think even my grandfather knows why.
I suppose it’s not beyond the realm of possibility that he was a closet homosexual, but that leads to the question of why he felt the need to suppress it. He worked in fashion, after all.’
She smiled. ‘There is that. And it is the twenty-first century. Lots of older men of his generation have felt comfortable coming out and embracing their true sexuality.’ She closed her eyes briefly and gave her head a little shake.
‘Probably it’s one of those mysteries that should be left to lie.
He was who he was. Wishing can’t change the past. I can’t wish the truth out of him or wish him into being a grandfather I can properly mourn. ’
Their dinner was brought out to them, a gentle lemon chicken dish served with plenty of fresh olives, roasted vegetables and tomatoes. It warmed Xavi’s heart to see Beth dive into it with much of her old gusto, even if she didn’t feel ready to have a glass of wine with it.
‘Are you ready to talk about the implications of what probate means?’ he asked.
Her smile was rueful. ‘Sure.’
‘It means everything is now yours. I didn’t want to overload you while you were ill, but it actually went through a couple of days ago.
As your grandfather’s executor and your appointed representative, I’ve transferred everything into your name.
There are some things, like his properties, that will take a short while longer to be rubber stamped, but the majority is now legally yours. ’
Was he imagining that her face had paled a little?
‘A couple of days ago?’
‘Yes. On Friday. I’ve got to devote my time to the Grimaldi deal this week—I’m off for an overnight in New York on Wednesday to oversee the finalisation of it, but in the meantime I’ll get my legal team to reach out to yours and get the contracts drawn up giving me the power to act on your behalf with the business, and we can get it all signed when I return…
’ Yes, her face had definitely lost colour.
‘Are you still happy for that to happen?’
She had a drink of her water, putting the glass back on the table with a clatter. ‘Yes, yes…although I’ve been thinking about it, and will definitely be getting hands-on with the business at some point soon, but I’ll stick to the creative side and leave the running of it to you.’
His relief that she hadn’t changed her mind on their deal was tempered by concern at her pallor. ‘Are you not feeling well again, mi vida?’
‘No, I’m… My head’s hurting a little.’ She drank some more water. There was a tremor in her hand. ‘Did you notify my legal team?’
‘As soon as probate was granted.’ To prevent a conflict of interest, Beth had hired her own legal team to take care of her inherited assets and deal with her side of the legal formalities. ‘The shares and everything else that could be were transferred into your name straight away.’
She nodded, almost absently, and got to her feet. ‘Excuse me, but I need to lie down for a while.’
His concern growing, he rose, too. ‘I’ll come with you.’
She held out her hand. ‘No, don’t. Finish your dinner and enjoy the last of the daylight. I just need to get my head down for a little while. Probably the after-effects of the bug, that’s all.’
Seeing she was holding herself well and that her legs showed no sign of giving way, he reluctantly agreed.
The moment Beth was alone in the room, she called Erika, the head of the legal practice she’d hired, a woman who’d given assurance she would take the lead in all of Beth’s affairs. For the money she’d be earning from Beth, she could damn well take an evening call.
‘Has the share purchase gone through?’ she asked as soon as the brief pleasantries were over. God, she could hear her voice shaking.
‘It has—the money transferred this afternoon at four p.m. I’ve been liaising with your finance team, too, and all the smaller shares you were seeking to purchase have also been completed.
My congratulations. You are now the majority shareholder of the Rosbel Group.
I would have called you to confirm, but your instructions—’
Beth gave a helpless curse.
Wariness came into Erika’s voice. ‘Is something wrong? We followed your instructions precisely—’
‘You’ve not done anything wrong,’ Beth assured her, swallowing back the rising panic.
‘All my other instructions, though…forget about them. Destroy all record of them. Right now. Delete them, shred them, whatever you have to do to memory hole them. I’m not taking over the company.
The original shares I received as part of my inheritance, I want my husband to keep control of them. ’
‘But…’
‘No buts. Xavi runs the Rosbel Group, not me. I don’t want it anymore. His lawyers will be in touch with you very soon. Cooperate with them, but for the time being, say nothing about me owning the other shares…’ She swore again. ‘I have a lot of thinking to do. I’ll be in touch soon.’
Her head now hurting like she’d pretended it was to Xavi, Beth crawled into their bed and concentrated on breathing to drive the panic away.
What was she even panicking for? she wondered as the panic subsided. Surely, it was better that Paul Haldron and his merry band of thieves’ shares now belonged to her? They were out of the Rosbel Group. She’d removed one of Xavi’s headaches for him, which was a good thing.
That she was the majority shareholder meant nothing. She couldn’t run the company, and she’d been mad to ever think otherwise.
No, not mad. Just blinded by hurt and rage from the slashing open of old, unhealed wounds.
She would transfer half the extra shares she’d bought into Xavi’s name, she decided. That would be her wedding gift to him. That would keep everything equal between them. She could call her finance team and set the ball rolling…
No. Not yet. Best to wait until she’d spoken to him about it, and with his head and time full of the Grimaldi deal, best to wait for that to be completed before confessing because it would be a confession.
To explain how she’d magically become the majority shareholder, she was going to have to explain herself, and to explain herself meant confessing everything.
It meant telling him about the baby. It meant opening up about how badly he’d hurt her when he’d jumped into Ellen’s bed.
It meant opening her heart to him and trusting him not to break it again.
The last of her panic vanished. She did trust him.
Xavi loved her, she knew it in her heart, loved her as much as he would allow himself to love anyone.
If she ever doubted it, all she’d need to do was remember the wonderful care he’d given her when she was ill.
Given time, he would open his heart fully to her again, too.
She was certain of it. He might be angry with her initially, but once she’d explained everything, he would understand, and he would forgive her.
They would forgive each other and put the past behind them.
Feeling immensely better, she was about to get out of bed and set off to find him when the bedroom door opened.
‘How are you feeling?’ he asked softly, stepping to the bed.
She pulled the bedsheets off to invite him in beside her. ‘Better.’
Fully dressed just as she was, he climbed in. ‘You are sure?’
She palmed his softly bristled cheek and smiled. ‘I’ve got a bit of a headache still, but I think you’ve got a cure for that.’
Laughing lightly, he drew her into his arms and proceeded to cure her.