Chapter 48
My cell alarm blares, and I wake up with the early morning light streaming through my window and across my bed. I roll over and turn it off, curling back into Easton’s warmth. I don’t want to get up and face this day.
“Stay in bed,” he says, locking his arms around me, careful of my ribs. They’re healing after a hairline fracture but are so tender. A week after our near-death experience on the roof, we’re both finding our way in this new reality. The one where we get to be in love and together and no one can say anything about it. Well, they say things, but nothing that matters even a little to me.
I would very much like to stay cuddled up with Easton in my apartment, but, after seven days of retreating, of letting my family and my none-too-pleased cousin handle everything for me, I need to get back to reality. “I can’t. I promised Haydée that if I lost the competition, I’d meet with Kim Cole. She flew in for this meeting today.”
His warm hold doesn’t soften. “I’m not going to make my offer again.”
“Good, because I don’t want to have to punch you.” Not that I could because he is not a small person and has me cocooned in his warmth.
He sighs regretfully, so much so the idea of accepting his offer to buy Haydée’s shares tempts me again. It’d be great to have a true partner who respected me and my vision for this place. Except Cecily exploited his generous heart, and I need him to know that it will never be like that for me.
He kisses me softly. “You know, technically, you didn’t lose yet. You could go back and compete for the last round. Parker offered you the opportunity.”
“No.” I suppress a shudder. Now that the show is over, I can see how much mental stress competing, having multiple jobs, hiding my feelings for Easton, the tension from fellow contestants and online trolls—one of whom, Anonymous4Now, turned out to be Kay Lee—had on me. Not to mention the whole “Get Yolanda off the show so we can murder her” thing going on. “It’s better to let Eli, Sil, and Colette battle it out for the top spot. Anyway, it feels too much like cheating to go back to the show when we’re officially together. Like taking the Fonzie route.”
He stiffens. “Don’t compare yourself to him. He was forced to leave the show because he applied even though his boyfriend worked on approving applications for tryouts. You were offered a spot back on the show because people literally cheated to get you off it.”
His arms tense around me. Not hard, but enough that I know comparing myself to Fonzie bothers him. We both have a lot to work through after our ordeal. A lot of emotions and regrets. Him most of all. He blames himself for everything I went through.
I place the palm of my hand against his stubbled jaw. “Verdad, I’m not guilty of cheating in that way, but the show’s focus on us was unfair to so many.”
His jawline tenses with the pressure he’s obviously putting on his teeth. “Parker using our chemistry to draw viewers—her choice, not ours—should never be equated to Néstor poisoning you, Fonzie deliberately cheating, Kay Lee deliberately cheating, and a slew of show contestants conspiring against you for the creativity challenge. And, yeah, that conspiracy was led by Kay Lee, but they all chose to do it.”
“Of course not, but at least for that last, the other contestants were being strategic, not vicious, trying to claw back the ground I’d gotten when I took the spotlight from?—”
“Fuck that. Yolanda, you stood in a spotlight because you deserved to be there.” He takes a deep breath and his shoulders relax. He kisses me lightly on the nose.
A small bruise of pain radiates up into my eyes. My nose isn’t broken, but it does still sting.
“You were amazing. In the end, the routines you did on the show, your evolution, learning to really put yourself out there, bringing your familia along, did so much more than any look I gave you on camera.” He swallows. “You worked so hard to share the spotlight simply because others mistakenly perceived you had an unfair advantage. Our relationship wasn’t against the rules and it wasn’t hidden. It was caught. On camera.”
I smile, remembering what Mateo had said about us being much less subtle than we thought we were. “Still,” I say, “you don’t know when your feelings for me provided me an extra advantage.”
He shakes his head. “I worked hard for everyone.”
I open my mouth to object.
He kisses me silent, then says, “Did you ever consider all the advantages the other contestants had and were free to exploit without anyone belittling them for it?”
I’m not sure what he’s getting at, but I’m not ready to let us off the hook so easily. “Easton, I can’t dismiss what Colette told me about her one-on-one when compared to mine. Or the viewer response to our dance. It did impact the show because it put an unfair spotlight on me.”
He leans his forehead down against mine. “You really don’t see it, do you?”
“See what?”
“First, that dance helped as much as hurt you. You know as well as I that, afterward, some people assumed you didn’t earn your spot and that I gave it to you. Second, you weren’t the only contestant with an angle. Every single contestant on the show had an advantage and disadvantage.”
“Like who?”
“Colette taught at an FTW club in Ohio. She’s spent the last five years working on every challenge the show focused on—a huge advantage physically. Plus, Parker made damn sure that every time Colette was on stage, her outfit was green and black, reminding everyone that she was an FTW queen. Was that fair?”
“It was part of her persona. It?—”
“What about with Cameron? Parker interviewed some of his former MMA competitors and used snippets from those interviews before his every FTW live performance. Was that fair?”
“It was a blip. A few seconds.”
“What about Doc and my one-on-one?” he says. “We spent the entire time at a sports clinic, showcasing his medical training and specialty. That wasn’t equal to Colette’s one-on-one either. And what of Sil’s celebrity connections? Every time one of their famous clients showed up to watch, the camera panned to those celebs waving to Sil, who didn’t hesitate to take advantage of that connection. And Fonzie?—”
“Don’t.” I move my hand from his jaw to cover his mouth, and swallow hard remembering Fonzie sobbing, begging me for forgiveness on the day that he’d left Puerto Rico. Of course, I’d forgiven him. “He was so devastated to learn his boyfriend had?—”
“Conspired with murderers?” Easton finishes through my palm.
I drop my hand. “I know we see things differently when it comes to Néstor. But, in the end, he risked his life and got himself shot for trying to help me.”
He pulls me closer, as if fearing for my life right now. “It was the least he could do.” He kisses my ear and the scruff of his beard scratches my cheek. “The very fucking least.”
“It would’ve been better had Néstor told the truth earlier,” and didn’t try to poison me, “but when he did act, he ended up saving our lives. If Néstor hadn’t untied me, I couldn’t have stopped Brian from shooting you. I hope the prosecutors consider that.”
Easton stares at me for a long moment. His eyes soften with that tender emotion. “I love you, Yolanda.”
My heart leaps. The depth of my own feelings for him sends a thrill of warmth through me. “Te amo, mi amor.”
He kisses me thoroughly, passionately, before pulling away.
I stare up at him, dazzled.
He rubs his thumb over my lower lip. “Don’t worry. The D.A. will take into account Néstor’s help, along with him testifying against Kay Lee, Cecily, and Brian.”
Hearing that makes me feel a little better. “Too bad Néstor didn’t know anything about Paul. The only testimony the prosecutors will have is what we learned on the roof.”
“No. Stone told me last night that Cecily threw Paul under the bus. It’s likely Paul will be arrested today.”
Inside, I’m raising a triumphant fist in the air. Paul shouldn’t be the only one to get away with his crimes. “Bueno. I’m so angry that he almost got you thrown out of your company. Gracias a Dios for Putnam. Her insisting the vote be delayed the day you headed back to Puerto Rico saved you from the nightmare of having to fight your way back into your company.”
“That’s what you’re angry about?” He laughs and the breath of his amusement whispers across my lips. “I think we can both agree on Putnam, which is why she now has Paul’s old job.”
I kiss his lips because they are so tempting. I wiggle against him, feeling his delightful arousal.
He groans. “Don’t do that if you’re leaving for your meeting.”
“Pobrecito,” I whisper. “Before I go, let me kiss it all better.”
“Yolanda?”
“Shhh. I’ve got to defend my blowjob queen crown.”
He laughs.
I push away from him and begin to burrow under the blankets.
He throws the blanket off.
I look up at him.
He gives me a devilish grin. “I want to watch.”
Smiling, I lower my mouth onto him with a hum.
“Fuck,” he groans, bucking his hips as his beautiful eyes spring wide and lock on me.
* * *
I still can’t believeI’m required to walk Kim Cole around the hotel so she can decide if she wants to make the investment in La Vida Buena, but a deal is a deal.
After a comprehensive tour—that went nowhere near the roof—we make our way back to the busy lobby. Crew members, security, and police are still in attendance. The buzz of people soothes me.
“Look, Yolanda,” Kim says, popping bubblegum in her perfectly perfect mouth. The dark-haired beauty with the maple sugar eyes is as beautiful in person as online. That’s annoying. I thought she was using a filter or something. “After getting the full tour, I can tell you exactly what’s wrong with your business.”
I bristle. “You mean the business I rescued from near collapse and reinvented, securing a huge loan that helped me expand and promote the gym? A feat that allowed me to pay off that loan? And would’ve allowed me to secure another loan to update the hotel if Haydée hadn’t decided to sell the business that has done well enough that you’re here wanting to invest in it?”
As smile as perfectly balanced as a ballerina’s pirouette stretches across her face. “Fire. There’s not a successful person I’ve met who doesn’t have that fire.” Her hand clasps the strap of the candy apple—red Louboutin bag on her shoulder. “You don’t have the most respect for me, do you?”
Heat stings my cheeks. Though my disdain is for having a new partner, not her, I have to admit the moment I saw all of her perfection, expensive perfume, shoes, rocking dress, and glam-bag, I felt a shudder of despair. She’s like Haydée’s influencer twin. But, honestly, I quickly realized that’s not a bad thing. “I do respect you,” I say, and genuinely mean it. “I think anyone who built the platform and brand that you have deserves props. But, to be honest, it’s frustrating for me to have to compromise on my vision for this hotel.” Again. “I’m sorry if I was rude. I’d appreciate your insight. Please, say what you were going to say.”
She chews for a beat then two before nodding. “The way I see it, the problem with your business is that you want to run a gym around a connected and consistent community.”
I open my mouth to explain why she’s wrong, mainly on instinct. But then I close it. She has it exactly right. “Why is that a problem?”
She waves a hand manicured in the same candy apple red as her purse at the busy lobby. “It’s a problem because hotels don’t have consistent clientele.”
“People would come back…”
She gives me a get-real look, and I trail off.
“You know the stats on that, so I’m not going to tell you your business. But I have a skill, Yolanda. I use that skill to analyze the latest wellness information—including fashion, makeup, fitness, and nutrition, and condense it into video format. I have an uncanny ability to see the basic elements of a thing and break it down for my audience.”
She’s not lacking in the confidence department. Me gusta.
Softening, I take a deep breath. I learned a lot from Haydée, who I’d written off. Mostly, I’ve learned people’s creative and intellectual light can’t shine through if you close your eyes to them. “Well, you definitely hit the mark when it comes to describing what I want from this hotel.”
“Exactly,” she says and moves in closer to me, encouraged, it seems, by the opening I’ve presented. Close up, she smells like pink bubblegum and floral perfume. “That’s why your business will never be a success.”
Pendeja. Despite my early sentiment, a flare of anger crosses my face.
She trills a laugh so light it should have feathers and take wing. “Hear me out. The gym part of your hotel is doing amazing. You’re attracting a lot of locals and transplants. You’ve created a real community. The hotel, sadly, is costing you bank. You can’t fill rooms because people who go to this beautiful island for a week or two weeks away from their lives aren’t visiting for a great gym. Oh, they might have good intentions, but once they get here…” Trailing off, she shakes her head.
I feel like I’ve been scratched by a kitten. Bitten by an adorable puppy. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying you already have what you want. A gym with a booming local membership, a future, and a whole lot of clout now that your brother—yummy, by the way—has basically taken the fitness world by storm. So why kill yourself trying to make the hotel work?”
“Because it’s where my gym is located. I can’t actually detach the two. And, really, I wouldn’t want to. My parents are part of this place. I feel them here.”
“I’m not saying get rid of it.” She chews her gum. “I’m saying, your hotel, because it’s older, doesn’t have the smaller rooms of most hotels, and that’s a huge bonus. It wouldn’t take much to turn La Vida into a lifestyle condo. You know, where people with fitness interests go to share space.”
“The last thing?—”
“You want is to own a building where everyone is rich and entitled. Yeah, I got that from our walk.”
“You really pay attention.”
“Part of my gift. Which is why, before you cut me off, I was going to say you could arrange it so the building has reasonable spaces and more expensive spaces. You could even rent smaller apartments for those who couldn’t afford to buy. You make that change and you will have your fitness community with a consistent and connected membership.”
I look around the bustling lobby. She’s right. I’ve spent twelve years trying to mesh Mami and Papi’s dream for a successful hotel with my dream for a fitness community. No wonder it never worked. What Kim just did is… really insightful.
“And you’d be willing to invest in this transformation?”
She shakes her head. “Not interested.”
My eyes widen.
“Honestly, Yolanda, the only reason I’m here is for your cousin and her fashions. I’ve been stalking her online for a while now. When she reached out about the hotel, it seemed like a sign for me to get to know her better. I don’t enter into business with anyone without knowing them.
“And then, when she put me off… it only made me want to partner with her more. The final drive was when I saw her fashions on the FTW show. She’s brilliant. I intend to make her an offer she can’t refuse, one that makes us both a lot of money and ensures we have a lot of fun while doing it.”
“Let me get this straight,” I say, juggling an influx of emotion. “You’re here for Haydée’s fashions. You don’t want any part of the hotel. You came here to scope my prima and our family out, to see if you wanted to make her an offer?”
“Pretty much sums it up.”
I digest this information as if it were a fatty steak, slowly. Actually, this is… great. Relief washes down my body. Gracias a Díos.
Kim pulls me in for a weirdly unexpected hug. “You don’t need me or any investor, Yolanda.”
I get a face full of floral as the taller woman presses me into the silky shoulder of her dress. I have to get the name of this perfume.
“You can sell larger spaces, multiple rooms, to wealthier investors, then use those funds to create moderately priced spaces so you have the kind of community you want.”
I hug her back because she’s not what I expected, and also because she’s right. I couldn’t have borrowed money for Haydée’s untested business, but I can borrow money for this change. It’s a brilliant idea.
The business plan begins forming in my head. If I do this right, I can offer jobs to all of our employees in keeping with this new venture. And, since Kim is offering Haydée what she wants, I don’t need to worry about her selling. This woman kind of saved my life.
“So,” Kim says, letting me go. “Do you think Haydée will go for it?”
I know she will, but I’m not going to dilute my prima’s bargaining power. “I think there’s only one way to find out, and that’s by making her the best and fairest offer you can give.”
“Muy bien,” Kim says with an excellent Puerto Rican accent on her Spanish. Too excellent.
“You’re Puerto Rican?”
“Partly. And partly Spanish on my father’s side. My father is Carlos Aguirre, the famous Spanish author.”
“Ay, I’ve read him. He’s brilliant.”
She blushes, as if embarrassed by her father’s reputation or the connection? That’s odd.
“So is Cole your stage name?”
She cocks her head to the side and squints at me. “You really don’t watch any of my stuff?”
I shake my head. “No. Sorry.”
“No biggie. It’s just my online last name is part of my persona. In a sense, it’s my pseudonym, because I can’t change it.” Red slides across her high cheekbones. “When I was sixteen, I started my YouTube channel in the hopes of getting the attention of the man I thought I was in love with and wanted to marry.” She rolls her eyes. “I had a huge crush on Derek Cole.”
“The MMA fighter?”
“Oh, good, you’ve heard of him at least.”
Who hasn’t? I don’t say that out loud. I say, “I’ve seen his movies. You know, since he quit fighting and went into acting.”
“That’s how most people know him. I know the rough-and-tumble him. I built my channel on my naive, teenage love for him. It was really a fan page. Mostly, I posted about all the good things he was doing to help the planet and how cute I thought he was, and how adorable our babies would be. That lasted until the day I turned eighteen.”
“Then what happened?”
“He humiliated me online. Went on my page, told me to get a life and to stop stalking him.”
“Ay.”
“Yep. I cried my eyes out, decided he wasn’t worth my time, but I was stupidly stubborn and kept the name. Now I’m stuck with it. Worse, because I’ve graduated to doing things of value, living my own life in the six years since his public humiliation, I run into him all of the time.”
“Well, I hope you hold your head high and don’t give him the satisfaction.”
“Oh, he gets no satisfaction from me. I basically ignore him. Once, he even came up to me to apologize, tried to make some pathetic excuse. I pretended I didn’t remember him.”
I laugh. I like this weirdo.