“Are you a fan?” I asked, nodding at it.
“Tony is,” he admitted, a slow smile parting his face. “The boy’s crazy about soccer. Watches everything and anything he finds on TV, or his phone.” A shake of his head. “I’m not one for sports, honestly, but their mother was. He, uh…” His smile fell. “He took after her in that way. María does, too, I guess.”
Was. Their mother was.
I wracked my head again to say something appropriate and not bring this conversation to an awkward halt. “I work for the Miami Flames,” I rushed out. “I know Miami is not exactly around the corner, but I could get you tickets to a game. You guys could make a trip out of it. Miami will be a good break from the cold by the time the Flames make it to playoffs. If they ever do, that is. We’re not having the best season.”
The cheery, kind man fell strangely silent.
“I’m the head of communications of the team,” I felt the need to explain. “Well, I… was. I’m on a temporary leave—break. I’m on a break.” Robbie frowned and I shifted my feet. “That sounds like I was fired, but I wasn’t. I can get the three of you good tickets, I promise. My father is the owner. He, uh—” I swallowed, and God, I didn’t even know why I was rambling to this man. “Andrew Underwood. I’m his daughter. So, even if I’m technically on a break I’m still able to get tickets for, er, people. Yes.”
Robbie’s expression closed off. He even took a step back. “But your name,” he said. “It’s Reyes. I didn’t think—” He stopped himself.
I… I didn’t understand what I’d said to possibly offend him. Was he realizing that I was the crazy woman from the video the whole town was talking about? “I use my mother’s last name.” I clasped my hands so I wouldn’t fidget. “And I promise, the kids are safe with me. That—”
“Thanks for the offer, miss,” he interjected. “But I’m afraid I can’t accept the tickets. We’ve already taken more charity than I’m comfortable with.”
Charity.
The term seemed to hit me harder than it should have. Perhaps because I’d accused Cameron of the same thing. Robbie’s and my reactions weren’t that far off. So I shouldn’t be all that hurt. Only I’d tried to be nice. This was María’s dad, and I’d wanted to do something for him and his kids. It wouldn’t hurt to have someone besides Josie on my side. I couldn’t understand how it had backfired so miserably.
“Is there a problem?” a deep, accented voice said behind me.
Something happened in my body then, something that felt a lot like relief. Relief at Cameron Caldani being there. Here. It didn’t make sense.
Robbie’s eyes locked on a point over my head. He opened his mouth.
“Everything’s fine,” I interjected. “I was pestering Mr. Vasquez and not letting him do his work. Now that I think of it, I never arranged for the repairs of the shed. Did Josie call you? It was my mess to clean, and I’d like to take care of it. So who should I see about the cost?”
“It’s all taken care of, miss,” Robbie answered.
So we really were back to the miss. “But—”
“It doesn’t matter,” Cameron interrupted. He came to my side and took a good look at me. His expression changed. Something flashed behind his eyes. Concern? “Now, where’s that binder with your detailed fifteen-step plan to make my life all the more complicated? I’d like to go home.”
Mr. Vasquez’s brows shot up.
Yeah, not concern. Whatever kind of relief I thought I’d felt had been a lapse in judgment. Clearly.
I said very, very calmly, and with that smile I knew he found so appalling, “Do you know what?”
“I don’t know what.” His lips mirrored mine, tilting. “But you’re gonna tell me anyway, aren’t you, darling?”
That stupid darling came back. It angered me.
“You.” I planted a finger on his unshockingly hard chest. “Can really be an ass.”
He looked down at my index finger as it impaled his left pec. An eyebrow rose. “I think you can do better than that.” His gaze met mine again. There was a challenge in there. “I did insult your binder. Again. I deserve a little more.”
He did. I narrowed my eyes, the words dancing on the tip of my tongue.
“Come on, darling,” he said, lowering his voice. “Let it out for me.”