also extra copies of you and Santos walking into the arena last Sunday." She opened her purse for her car keys and withdrew a business card. "Call me if you ever need a photographer."
Fox got up and walked her to the entrance and came back with a card of his own.
"Have you ever been in love?" he asked.
"Just once," Rafael replied, and he ate the last bite of his chocolate cake.
Santos waited until they'd pulled up in front of the ranch to speak. "My leg's too sore to fight this Sunday. There are men lined up to take my place, but I thought the crowd might rather see you, Rafael. Would you like to talk to my agent?"
Rafael set the brake, withdrew the keys from the ignition and turned to hand them to Santos. "If I take your place, I should receive what you would have been paid." He neglected to glance toward Maggie for her opinion.
"No, if I'm giving the fights to you, we split 50-50," Santos argued. "That's more than you were paid last Sunday."
"Yes, but not enough," Rafael argued. "If I can take your place, then I'm worth what you're worth."
"Not even close, but maybe my leg will be better by Sunday."
"No, it won't," Maggie argued, "and you know it. Don't let Rafael goad you into fighting when you're not fit to do so."
"I'm not goading," Rafael denied, but his lazy grin gave him away.
"I can't listen to this." Maggie left the men in the SUV with Fox. She sat down on the front porch and pulled her father's letter from her purse. The flap was unsealed, and she opened it slowly and took a deep breath before unfolding the single sheet.
I'm so proud of you and wish I'd been a better father. May your life always be blessed with love.
She felt too numb to appreciate the touching thoughts and refolded the letter and returned it to its envelope. She'd save it with the photos. The small collection would be a time capsule, like her mother's cherished box. Appalled by the odd pairing of sentiment and guilt, she looked up just as Rafael stepped onto the porch. Santos and Fox remained talking together by the SUV.
"I imagine you struck a tough bargain," she said.
He took the chair beside hers. "Of course. I don't trust agents to look out for anyone but themselves."
"Is there anyone you do trust?"
He reached over to catch her hand. "Other than you, no."
"That's probably wise." Her hand nearly disappeared into his. "Mr. Calderon wants me to study the family portfolio tonight and meet again tomorrow with Santos. Will you be able to stay here another day?"
"Yes. Let's ask Refugio to make some sandwiches and go out to the tree to eat."
"I'd much rather do that than study columns of figures. I do balance my checkbook each month when I receive my bank statement, but I don't know anything about investments."
"I doubt Mr. Calderon expects you to do any of the actual work yourself."
"No, he doesn't, but I should be able to recognize what's a wise investment and what isn't."
Rafael stood and pulled her to her feet. "If profits on stocks were easily predictable, then everyone would be wealthy."
"I suppose, but I'm way out of my depth here."
He swept her with an appreciative glance. "You look fine to me."
She smiled and took a step toward the door. "Thank you. I need to change my clothes while Refugio makes our lunch."
He shook his head. "No, the path isn't difficult. Stay in your skirt."
The sly look in his eye made it plain what he was thinking, and it would be easier to hike up her skirt and climb onto his lap than to have to shimmy out of her jeans first.
"I'd no idea you'd be so interested in exploring the countryside."
He looked off toward Santos and Fox. "I'm into the environment. There's a lot about me you don't know."
That was an understatement, and there was an enormous amount he didn't know about her. "I'm sure that's true. What's your blood type?"
"What?"
"You heard me."
He frowned at the unexpected question. "A positive, like most people in Spain, so there were plenty of us to donate blood if the prison hospital needed it."
A chill of horror shot clear to her toes. She'd grasped for the hope he'd had some rare Gypsy blood type that would have protected him from being a heart donor for her father. She walked on into the house thinking she really needed to talk to