Chapter 41
Stone and I arrive back at my La Jolla home as the sun is setting. I press a button on my cell and the gate swings open. We roll down the cobblestone drive to the dark brown cedar-shingled home with its modern interpretation of craftsman. Stone stops in front of my three-car garage.
Hard to believe that, yesterday, I was in Puerto Rico and in Yolanda Vasquez. Wish I had never left. Still, there’s nothing for it. This phase of our European expansion will require intense negotiations and long days. The fact that the board has agreed to condense it all into a few days is a big concession.
“Whatever you did to convince Blanca worked,” Stone says, grabbing the bag of takeout as we climb out of his Ferrari. “She’s all-in big time.”
“Why do you keep underestimating my charm offensive?”
Stone snorts.
I unlock the door and we head inside. “Actually, it was the show that convinced her. Never would’ve guessed how much impact a reality show can have.”
Good and bad.
We walk through the foyer, past the glass banister leading upstairs. I love the openness of this place. We cross the white oak flooring to the meticulous great room with its glass sliding wall view of the Pacific Ocean.
Stone puts the bag of Thai food on the quartz waterfall island while I hit the button for the flatscreen. We’ve got five minutes before the live starts.
I grab some plates and utensils from the kitchen and slide them onto the table. “Anything more on the blackmail?”
Stone stops with a rice paper eggroll halfway to his mouth. “No leads, but I’ve been wondering about something.” He bites and chews for a moment. “Could Cecily have had you followed? Could she be behind the photos?”
“Possibly. But what would she have to gain from having me followed?”
“Could be she’s looking for dirt on you.”
It’s a thought. “That could explain why the blackmailer quit after your HTL. Sure, you put out the best photo they’d sent, but they could’ve pressed me again using some of the others. But if it was Cecily, she might’ve feared getting caught and having her house arrest revoked.” I head back to the kitchen. “Want a beer?”
“After that analysis, I want two.” He finishes spreading out the food.
I bring out a six-pack, and we shovel food onto our plates in silence. It was a really long day. Looking forward to the show, I drop onto the couch, put my beer on the coffee table, and dig in to my drunken noodles with shrimp.
It’s a totally different experience watching this on a television versus being at the live event. The tension and excitement are still there, but there’s also a sense of longing. I want to be in that audience, supporting her with my presence.
Stone plops himself in the seat next to me, raising the volume with a voice command. We watch in silence for a moment as Miguel does his thing and speaks with the three celebrity judges.
After a minute, Stone says, “Those judges from Find A Way have a much better understanding of the fitness dynamics than I would’ve thought.”
“Agreed. They’re total professionals. Sucks not being there.”
That last is out of my mouth before I can take it back.
Stone’s eyes widen noticeably. “Yes, but it’s worth it to finally get this project moving ahead.” When I don’t agree, he twists one of the rings on his hand and says, “She’s fine. The security is topnotch.”
Exhaling uncertainly, I lean back, spread my legs out as if it’s all good, then change the subject. “I’ve missed this place.” Since Cecily is in Texas with her dad, I was able to return to my home.
“It’s a great place, though, I noticed Cecily took down every photo that belonged to you.”
I snort in acknowledgment as Kay Lee takes the stage in her pink Stetson and matching sequined vest and shorts, while trailing two streaming gymnastics ribbons decorated with tiny American flags.
Stone doesn’t let it go. “She even took down the pictures of you and your family, including your half-brothers in Hawaii.”
“Weird, since Cecily was the one to convince me to go on that trip. After she missed Dad’s funeral, I was just as happy to ignore Mom for the rest of my life.”
That trip changed a lot for me. Mom told me that her abandonment of me had nearly destroyed her. She spent years in therapy and even spent a few weeks in a mental health facility. When she got pregnant with her first son by her new husband, she swore to herself it would be different. Not only would she never leave her son and family, she’d never leave Hawaii. She went all-in with them because she knew the pain of not going all-in with me and Dad. Or, at least, that’s what she told me.
“It was her help with my mom”—that gift of reconnecting with Mom—“that made it so hard for me to believe she’d stolen from the company.”
Stone grabs the remote and lowers the volume. “Are you really going to make me tell you, once again, that you making a mistake in trusting Cecily doesn’t mean you have to punish yourself forever? Forgive yourself and take your house back.”
I look around at the furniture, the design, and the colors, all chosen by me with the help of a designer. He’s right. I have felt so guilty about Cecily—not just about turning her in, but about what she did to my company—that I’ve been punishing myself ever since. Just like I punished myself for not being there for Dad by denying my true feelings for Yolanda for all those years.
Kay Lee finishes her routine, and Miguel pops onto the screen with a smile.
I smile, too. “No need to argue,” I say. “I want her gone.”
His eyes widen in disbelief. “No offense, but after a year of watching you beat yourself up over this, I need to ask… what happened?”
“Yolanda happened,” I say, throat catching. She insisted I believe in my instincts with her. Insisted I tear down my own fucking walls, not make her tear them down for me. Insisted I listen to my own truth. Insisted I fix myself to be worthy of her.“I want her more than I want to keep hurting myself.”
We turn as one to watch the show, but I don’t miss the smile that flashes across his face.
“Before I leave, I’m putting your family pictures back up.”
I laugh.
Forty minutes later, I’m furious. “I can’t believe this shit.” I take another long pull off my beer.
“They obviously coordinated their answers,” Stone says.
“Obviously.”
We watch as Eli, after a fantastic routine involving weighted juggling balls and a split no man should be able to pull off, moves over to Miguel. I tense, waiting for Miguel to ask the same question he’s asked all contestants—why they chose not to use ícaro.
It’s the question Parker prepared so it wouldn’t seem like Yolanda had had an unfair advantage.
I hold my breath, waiting to see if he answers the same way all the other contestants have—as if using the equipment is some form of cheating.
First, they discuss Eli’s routine. The Find A Way judges’ feedback is both funny and helpful. Every chatting, smiling, humorous minute has my tension ratcheting higher.
Finally, Miguel asks the question. “Eli, I see that you, like all the other contestants on the show chose not to use the specialized equipment in your performance.” By design, he doesn’t mention Mateo. If even one other contestant had used the equipment, it would’ve been divulged. But Parker thought it better to put that in the credits, since it could be construed as highlighting another member of Yolanda’s family. “Can you tell us why you made that choice?”
“Well…” Eli beams. “As you can see, I definitely didn’t need it.”
The audience erupts in spontaneous applause.
“Plus,” he says, biting shyly at his lower lip, “I wasn’t comfortable using Yolanda’s brother’s invention.”
There’s a gasp of surprise from the audience. I curse. Da fuck? Now it looks like the show was hiding that truth for Yolanda’s benefit instead of the real reason: to try to keep things fair.
Miguel smiles quickly, coyly. “You’ve revealed our big surprise. We were waiting until Yolanda’s performance to tell you all that she and her brother invented the equipment she’ll be using.”
The audience claps approvingly. I wonder if I’m the only one who notices Eli’s mouth tightening.
Stone says, “When Miguel calls Eli out live on air, some shit will hit the fan after the show.”
“No doubt.” Though Miguel is the boundary-creating king, I know he won’t take Eli’s shit.
“Whoops.” Eli brings a hand up to his shocked mouth. “Sorry, Yo!” He shouts it as if he’s directing it to her.
Parker must cue a transition, because Yolanda flashes on the screen in a gorgeous blue-and-purple workout outfit with draped sleeves that fall from her arms in soft ribbons. The color lights her eyes and sets off her lush skin.
Damn it, now I’m even sorrier I’m not there.
She waves at the camera as if she’s waving at Eli—obviously she’s been watching the show in the greenroom. She blows him a kiss.
Eli pretends to catch it.
The audience titters and claps. The show continues.
Miguel says, “So the only reason you chose not to use it was because you felt Yolanda, who designed the system with her brother, should have exclusive use?”
“Miguel is a cold-stone genius, bringing up the fact that Yolanda helped with the design,” Stone says.
“He’s becoming an expert at responding to Eli’s subtle digs.”
Eli’s smile doesn’t falter. He nods vigorously at Miguel’s assessment, then cocks his head in a considering gesture. “And also because, as Sil and the others have said, I don’t like to rely on machines to do the hard work.” He lifts his back leg and spreads his arms to indicate his physique. “I’m all about this machine.”
The audience goes wild.
“Fuck.”
“Agreed. It seems as if the contestants collaborated to torpedo Yolanda.”
“Even if she hits it out of the park, there’ll be doubts about the difficulty of her routine. And it’s not an easy one.”
“Here she goes,” Stone says, and we fall quiet as Yolanda, breathtaking and beautiful and carrying my heart outside my body, steps onto the stage.