Mendoza's Secret Fortune

What was she thinking, assuming that Matteo had gone through complex machinations just to get a glimpse of her again? Sometimes a chance meeting was a chance meeting and nothing more, she told herself.

But the fact that it was obviously true in this case stung her a little. The scenario she had put together in her head had been far more romantic.

Grow up, she chided herself.

Looking at Matteo, she realized that he was waiting for some sort of an answer.

“I just started working here,” she replied. “The Foundation doesn’t officially open to the public until next month.”

Matteo was still trying to piece things together. He knew so little about the woman who had captivated him with no effort whatsoever. He had deliberately been avoiding Cisco this morning because he didn’t want to take a chance on hearing his brother brag about what had gone on last night.

“So, yesterday was your last day at the Cantina?” he asked.

That was a shame, he thought. He’d given serious consideration to dropping in there tomorrow, supposedly for lunch but actually just to see her again. Now it looked as if that plan wasn’t destined to make it off the ground.

Opening the door to the storeroom, Rachel gestured toward the dolly—located right in front—and stepped out of Matteo’s way.

“No, actually, it wasn’t. My job at the Cantina is really part-time, and I’m keeping both jobs, at least for a while,” she told him. Just saying it made her feel tired. But this wasn’t about getting her beauty rest. It was about her future and getting ahead. “I want to see where this is going before I make any major decisions about my life.”

Pushing the dolly out of the room, he followed Rachel toward the elevator. “Have you always been this ambitious?” he asked her.

She had to admit that this was an entirely new direction for her. When she’d moved out here, she hadn’t a clue on how to start rebuilding herself—or even how to earn a living. All she knew was that she wasn’t running toward something—at least, not at first—but from something.

“No, I wasn’t,” she told him, pressing the down arrow beside the elevator. “You should have seen me five years ago.” She recalled all the empty partying, the meaningless kisses and even more meaningless words that had been exchanged. “I was a slug,” she confessed with a self-deprecating laugh.

Matteo didn’t believe it for a moment. He considered himself a fair to middling judge of character, and Rachel Robinson was a woman with a purpose. He would lay odds that she always had been.

“I sincerely doubt that,” he told her, dismissing her words. “But I would have liked to have seen you five years ago,” he admitted.

Rachel couldn’t think of a reason why he would have wanted to do that. “To compare then and now?” she guessed.

“No. If I had seen you five years ago, that means I would have known you for five years.” And he would have been able to get her attention before Cisco had a chance to move in on her. “But I guess since you live here and I grew up in Miami, that wouldn’t have exactly been possible,” he concluded.

“No,” she agreed, “it wouldn’t have.” But that didn’t mean that she wouldn’t have wanted it to be possible, she added silently.

As Matteo stepped into the elevator, pushing the dolly before him, he was surprised to see Rachel get on with him. He’d just assumed that she would wait for him to return to the storeroom with the supplies. “You’re coming with me?”

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