13. Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
A Family Business
RAFA
Medina, Washington
Rafa’s mood lightened when Sal’s message came in. “Hey, I just arrived at the airport. I miss you already. I forgot about the traffic and the heat here, but it’s still home. The first Airbnb was a bust, so we’re crashing at Theola’s place. I’ll tell you more once we’re settled.”
He beamed at her message and thumbed a response. “I miss you too. I’m happy you’re back to your roots. Tell me more about Theola when you can. I’m about to meet my business partners and give them an explanation for the audit findings. Wish me luck.”
He stared at his reflection in the phone screen and set it down. Hands in his pockets, pacing back and forth in his room, he thought now and then while he unpacked his bags for a brief stay at their family home in Medina.
He was about to meet his business partners. The audit findings were on his bedside table, neatly cataloged in a folder. He had gone through it again as soon as he arrived, only to be frustrated with the conclusion. Rafa continued pacing and halted his unpacking.
Colette had developed a system within his company to pilfer money through the years.
She had help from other employees, who were now being questioned.
When he looked at the list, his heart sank.
Many of them were people he had worked with closely, and some he had known since his father was head of the company.
It was bad governance. He should have noticed it, and he should have paid more attention.
The worst-case scenarios filled his mind, and he jumped from one thought to the next without stopping.
Sweat gathered on his forehead as he sat on the edge of his bed. “What’s the matter with me?”
Then he thought about Sal and instinctively grabbed his phone again.
He wanted to hear her voice; he needed it to help him calm down.
Midway through dialing her number, he stopped.
He was carrying the weight of his problems on his chest, hoping she could help him feel better about them.
He had promised her a lifetime of love and security. This was far from it.
“Focus, Rafa,” he muttered to himself, resting his palms on his knees and forcing himself to keep his attention on finding a solution to the problem.
“Offer to hire an internal process department…” he said under his breath, practicing the spiel he had prepared to appease his business partners.
“Remind them you can manage the company…” But his mind circled back to Sal.
His thoughts moved to the wedding in the spring of next year.
It just couldn’t be postponed—not because of this—but what would his partners say if he celebrated while knowing he had to prove himself capable of managing the company after this colossal blunder?
He could hear them in his head now. Marriage first, then babies; he’ll never be able to manage his time.
The company will suffer. Rafa’s knees jutted up and down nervously.
It was bad enough that they lost a considerable amount of money, and business partners rarely forgot a mistake like this so soon.
Celebrating knowing this would be insensitive.
They could marry privately, but they had agreed to a big celebration because this was a love that took years of earnest searching, and it just had to be celebrated the way it deserved.
That, or they delay it again. Not again, Rafa lamented.
A year ago, when he started sprouting gray hair, Rafa realized they shouldn’t postpone the wedding; they weren’t getting any younger. So if they weren’t to marry soon, then when? His mind traveled back to Sal again, and he remembered the first time she noticed his salt-and-pepper hair.
“I like that your hair is going gray,” he remembered her saying in a whisper, her chin resting on his chest as they both lay in bed. “So you like your men older?” he said with a chuckle.
Sal chortled in response. “I just know I’ll love you no matter how you look,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.
“Plus, I always wondered what it was like to marry a silver fox. You actually look pretty good.” She smiled, looking up at him with a carefree expression.
He remembered holding her close and wanting to give her the world.
Rafa breathed in the memory of that slow morning as it faded away to the present, then put his phone down. He would try to fix this on his own.
A knock echoed through the room, and the door slowly creaked open. A voice called out, “Rafa?”
“Ma.”
“I could hear you pacing from downstairs,” Iris said, letting herself into the room.
Rafa took a seat on the bed again and exhaled. “I’m just nervous about later.” He rested both elbows on his knees and clasped his hands; his thoughts were still a heaving mess.
Iris walked over and gave him a pat on his broad shoulders.
“You’ll figure it out, dearest,” she said, and then looked to his opened luggage, its contents half unpacked.
She moved to his bag and helped him unpack the rest of his clothes.
“Aveline will help you. She’s friends with some of them.
She also took a leave of absence from her work for this,” she said, hanging some of his polos.
“Really? She took a leave for this?”
His mother’s back was to him as she nodded.
“You know your sister. Not even her Harvard PhD stood a chance when she set her sights on it. Now she’s set on fixing this problem.
” She continued to move his clothes out of his weekend bag into his closet.
“It feels nice having you home, though.” Rafa could hear her smile as she spoke.
She turned around and said, “Why don’t you try wearing something other than just houndstooth, gingham, and plaid?
” She gestured toward his immaculately folded clothes.
“But I enjoy wearing those. They’ve always looked good on me.”
“Ah, so much like your father. A stickler for what works for you.” She swooned under her breath, as though she were still a young woman talking about her crush.
Rafa raised a brow. “You say that as if you aren’t stuck in your old ways yourself.”
“I’m not,” she said, placing a neatly folded muted pink polo shirt beside him. “Your father was the traditionalist, not me. But it makes sense that you think of us as the same. I devoted my entire life to raising you all and never questioned his stances out of respect.”
“Respect, not love?”
His mother patted his knee. “There is no love without respect, my dear. I loved your father very much. Though I wish I had spoken up more about my preferences instead of giving in to him all the time.”
“That’s just because you were a devoted wife.”
Iris slightly lifted a brow, as though surprised with his summation of her love for his father. “Really?” she asked. She clasped her hands and placed them gracefully on her lap. “By the way, how is Sal, and how is the wedding coming along?”
It was a loaded question, and one he didn’t want to answer yet.
When his mother first found out he was dating an oral surgeon, she was ecstatic.
Then when she learned Sal had entrepreneurial flair and set up Autumn Town, it was practically a done deal.
His mother had always wanted a doctor in the family with business smarts, and Sal was just that.
Iris had already labeled Sal as her future daughter-in-law.
“She’s a good match for you,” Iris ventured.
Rafa grinned and looked at his mother. “So you’re not upset about delaying the wedding until spring?”
Iris let out a soft chuckle. “Not at all.”
“It might get delayed even further with this happening. And really, I’m worried...”
“Why?” Iris straightened her posture, as though steeling herself for his answer.
“Recently, Sal’s been…”—he hesitated for a moment—“very busy with Autumn Town. She’s also been asking me strange things.” This did not relieve the concern in his mother’s eyes. “Don’t worry, Ma. Sal and I are okay. Let’s just focus on fixing this mess.”
His mother let out a sliver of a smile. “I’m sure whatever comes, you both will find a way.” She gently patted his hand. “I’ll head off to the office to prepare for the meetings too. Get dressed, and let’s go together.” She squeezed his hand and let herself out of his room.
His mother’s presence never failed to soothe him.
Rafa always pictured her as a delicate paper lantern with ornate flowers painted on it.
He imagined his mother to be small but mighty, glowing amid the storms and long nights of motherhood, a beacon for her children in moments of darkness.
And shine she did for them all—even when their father passed away and she had to take the reins, even when Sybelle had a scary bout of depression, even when Aveline decided she would not handle the business.
His mother withstood it all for her children.
He looked at the muted pink polo his mother picked out for him and considered wearing it, but he put on a light blue dress shirt and his dark gingham blazer instead.
After raking a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, he prepared for what remained of the day and hoped against all hope that the universe would be kind to him.