Mad for you in Madrid (Building Love Book 3) Read online

  Let me get this straight. I ditched a man I really liked. Only to find out he’s not only rich, handsome, super-connected, and powerful, but our next client. Starting immediately. Great. The universe definitely hates me. Lori rubbed her fingers against her temple to stave off the growing headache. “When are we going back to the office?”

  “Only one of us is going back to the office, and that’s me. You will be on the next plane to Madrid.”

  “What? You can’t be serious?”

  Her mother tapped her foot rapidly. “I never joke about business. Daniel Vega wants us to get started immediately. You’ll fly out there to get a feel for the location. Learn firsthand about what would attract American tourists. A personal approach will be much better than simply sifting through Google Maps.”

  Lori’s head swam. “Why aren’t you going?”

  Her mother frowned. “Because I can’t be in two places at once. I have another court date with your father.”

  “Mom,” Lori said softly, “I know you’re angry at Dad. I understand how crappy it is for him to walk out on you. Your prolonging the divorce proceedings is not going to make the situation any better. Only more expensive. How much more are you going to pay lawyers to prove your point?”

  “As much as I need to,” Mom replied flatly. “Which is why income is so important to me. I really need you to slam dunk this assignment.”

  “If this project is so important to you, why trust me with this?”

  Her mother shrugged. “I’ve got no choice. I granted Maggie and Joe’s requests for vacation because the Orland project was finally completed. Debra is on maternity leave. Might as well push you out of the nest. See if you can fly.”

  “Or fall to my death.”

  Her mother crossed her arms. “Not at all. Why would you say such a thing?”

  Lori forced herself to breathe. “I was talking to an interesting man tonight. You made me leave him to take care of business. By the time I returned, he took off. That was definitely setting me up for failure.”

  “You were talking to a man?” Her mother’s voice was wary.

  Yeah, and if you only knew which one, we’d really get in a fight. “Hardly matters now.”

  Her mother crossed the room and sat next to her on the bed. Hesitantly, she reached for Lori’s arm, giving it a gentle stroke. “I’m sorry, honey. Sometimes I come on like gangbusters. I apologize if I cost you a potential date with a nice young man.”

  “Thanks,” Lori mumbled.

  “But men are bad news anyway. Never to be trusted. They walk out on you, without a care in the world. Regardless of whether your world will be destroyed.” Her face scrunched up. “Actually, honey, you only proved my point. If that guy of yours was worthwhile, he would have stuck around instead of scurrying off.”

  “That’s not fair,” Lori protested. “Do you have any idea how long I was gone while I went to talk to the Orlands? Because of this, I wound up being the one to leave him.”

  “Who cares?” Mom challenged. “I left your father alone while I ran this business. That didn’t give your father the moral right to leave me.”

  Lori sucked on her lips to avoid answering. There was no use continuing this line of discussion. Mom would never understand the toll her whole family suffered from the emotional distance. Still, the way her father handled the problem, seeking divorce instead of a frank discussion, had been a piss-poor solution. One that left Lori walking on an even thinner tightrope with her mother. See? This is the problem with my whole damned family. My mother’s way of communicating is constantly talking at people instead of listening to them. And no one else has the courage to speak up at all. Including me. Ugh!

  “I’ll have the hotel launder your clothes,” her mother said. “After that, I’ll call the office and have Louisa book your flight. You’ll be in Madrid by tomorrow evening. Forget about our going to sleep. Let’s get everything arranged and then we’ll go out to celebrate instead.” Her nose wrinkled. “You’ll need to change your clothes first. What happened to the beautiful dress I loaned you? It’s stained.”

  “Someone spilled their drink on me. Can we not talk about it? I already know it’s damaged.”

  “Okay, let’s not worry about it. Change into your black dress and we’ll go.”

  “All right,” Lori answered with false optimism. Because as soon as she met Daniel Vega—for a second time—things would get a lot worse, very quickly.

  Chapter 8

  Daniel stood inside the broken, rundown lobby of his Madrid hotel, stroking his chin in indecision. Normally, construction decisions were easy for him. This small project, however, was becoming quite the challenge. The bones of the old building were sturdy. The foundation, structural support, and building envelope all in good condition. But the interior was another matter. The word “decrepit” was an understatement. Could he possibly rehabilitate any part of the building’s historic details and fixtures?

  The carved wood paneling running throughout the lobby would have been a valuable asset had it not been buried under layers of paint. Why the hotel’s previous owners decided to bury beautifully carved wood was a mystery. What might have made sense then was disastrous now. The paint was almost was thick as plaster and showed countless cracks and chips. Worse, the paint undoubtedly contained lead. Removal was going to be a colossal headache.

  Ripping out the paneling would be faster, easier and more cost effective. The downside would be destroying the cozy and historic feel of the building. Daniel’s fingertips rubbed against the stubble from his day-old beard while he silently calculated costs.

  Days like these, it paid to be math-minded. Accurate estimating was his secret weapon. Not only for calculating the obvious costs, but hidden ones, too. They key was knowing what parts of a project might draw him into a financial black hole. Usually his guesses were spot-on.

  His gross underestimation on the last project had been a complete surprise. The budget blown by many millions of dollars. He had never made an error like that before. Who knew that a labor strike, a shortage of raw materials, and several unforeseen structural conditions could collide all at once? Three separate runaway trains aiming straight for him.

  His incorrect estimate was not his fault, although it was clearly his problem. Now his company was dangerously close to being overextended. Recouping capital was key. Damned if he’d let this project languish. Getting tourists into his newest hotel needed to happen, and fast.

  Daniel’s brow furrowed. Any additional expenses would suck this project down too. A vortex compelled by the force of gravity. A fiscal Event Horizon. What would happen if he couldn’t get himself back out of the hole this time? If his company truly went over the edge? Never to return?

  “What are you doing?” Elias asked, his words bursting their way into Daniel’s brain.

  Daniel whipped his head around. He hadn’t heard his brother walk in. “What’s it look like I’m doing, Elias?”

  “Staring into space,” his brother quipped. Elias, only seven years younger, still teased him mercilessly.

  Daniel ignored the jibe. “Aren’t you supposed to be working for Mama and Papá? They told me you’re the interim project manager on the Plaza project until Juan recovers from surgery.”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  “How’s it going?”

  “I’m praying Juan recovers quickly, and not because of altruism.” Elias roughly raked his hand through thick black hair. “I’m going to bribe his doctors for an early release.”

  “That good, huh?”

  The brothers were polar opposites, mirror images on steroids. Daniel was intense in his drive for success. Elias, however, was a playboy. He slid through life with excuses and a handsome smile.

  Lucky for Elias, their parents fell for Elias’s charm and coddled their “baby” ever
y chance they got. Their treatment of Elias, both on the job and off, was the exact opposite of how they had treated Daniel. Instead of coddling, they held Daniel to impossibly high standards. The discrepancy in treatment used to bother him. His bitterness eased only when he finally left his parents’ control. Starting his own company was pure satisfaction.

  Unfortunately for Elias, Daniel wasn’t hiring. Elias’s lack of work ethic was too much of barrier, regardless of brotherly love. Daniel’s guilt was held in check by the need to safeguard his company. Otherwise, they’d both be stuck working for their parents again. Being under their thumb was an unacceptable outcome. Daniel had worked all his life to escape their firm grasp. Damned if he’d be going back.

  Elias peered through thick brown bangs at Daniel. “I want to work for you, mi hermano.”

  “We’ve been through this before. You know already the answer. Let’s talk about other things.”

  “Okay, we can talk about whether you should rip out the old molding. I know you’re thinking about it. My ability to read your mind would make me an asset to your company.”

  “Actually, you were right the first time, Elias. I was staring into space.”

  Elias laughed. “Go ahead, lie to me. I’ll leave now. See you this weekend.”

  Daniel stopped his laughter. His back straightened, freshly injected with an invisible steel rod. “¡Mierda! I forgot about this weekend.” He smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. “The party. Papá and Mama will kill me if I don’t go.”

  Elias grinned. “Yep. See you there,” he sang, striding out the lobby.

  Daniel watched his brother leave. He wished he could rip out one of the molding panels with his bare hands and smack Elias over the head with it. His brother needn’t look so smug about going to their parents’ event. Since both of them would be entering Hell, there was hardly any point to Elias’s gaiety. Maybe Elias relishes pain. Daniel wondered which pain was worse, the criticism, or the matchmaking.

  Four workers wearing gray jumpsuits and toolbelts strode past him. They spoke quietly about the nightmare of removing paint from molding. Thanks, guys. As if I didn’t know. Daniel cursed again, this time silently. If this building project brought any more turmoil and drama, the weekend party with his parents would be anticlimactic.

  In only three days he had to decide which renovation plans to go with. During this short time, he’d also have to meet with his brand-new American public relations firm. Normally, he’d take these tasks in stride. But jetlag from a month of traveling continuously was taking its toll. His body in uproar over the confusion between night and day. In fact, last night he had woken up at three o’clock in the morning craving steak and pommes frits.

  If he were to be honest though, maybe it wasn’t only travel wearing him out. Besides his financial over-extension from the last hotel renovation job, investments in other various projects were also wearing him thin. Staying in business meant having this Madrid project become profitable quick. Otherwise, his parents’ view of his capabilities would prove right.

  Good thing the American public relations firm he hired would easily fill this small-scale hotel to capacity. It would be a showcase for the direction where his company was headed—a European micro-hotel chain that was simple, elegant, and stately.

  All this stress was wearing him out. Daniel checked his pants pocket for his wallet. Feeling the familiar bulge by his hip, he strode toward the lobby. Gran Via, only a block away, was a big boulevard. The coffee shop options were endless. A simple shot of caffeine would do him wonders. A perk in the form of percolation.

  He’d feel better after he had a cup of coffee. Enjoying a pastry would help too. He’d sit down, relax, and clear his mind. He was getting worried over nothing. Everything would work out fine. Cayne, the American public relations firm, would be here soon. After they formulated their strategy, his internal marketing team would build around their concept. Cayne understood the benefits of going “micro.” More importantly, Cayne knew how to sell the “micro” concept. Vega International Resorts would continue to blossom; the brand tourists would know, and appreciate, for being world class. All Daniel needed to do was sit back, relax, and wait for the money to come. And then, he’d move on to his next conquest.

  Despite the positive pep talk, Daniel felt edgy. The text he received from his banker didn’t help. The truth was, his hotel had to succeed. Because rolling money from project to project was a dicey as a game of craps.

  Chapter 9

  Lori endured two bouncy flights to Spain, dreading arrival the whole time. What was in store after the plane landed promised to be much more turbulent. During the last leg of the journey she had clutched a small pile of her business cards until they wadded into a damp ball. By the time she arrived at her hotel, her stomach was in knots.

  Hoisting her luggage from the taxicab’s trunk, she glanced up to see something that made her stomach lurch even more. No. It can’t be. What are the odds? Daniel strode by a building across the street. The reality of seeing him was much worse than the anticipation. As heart-stoppingly gorgeous as the man was, one glimpse of his dark expression made her cringe. His brow furrowed with the weight of the world. He strode across the street, a man trying to assert dominance over the very pavement. Greeting him was a horror show waiting to happen. Then again, what part of this situation wasn’t horrifying? If he thinks he’s pissed now, just wait . . .

  She knew she’d have to face him sooner or later. Preferably, later. Procrastination was key. The earliest time to check-in at her hotel was not for another hour. She gave her luggage to a bellman and asked directions to get a quick bite to eat. The pastry shop he recommended was right next door. Bingo! The goodies at the café would surely calm her racing heartbeat and soothe her stomach in one fell swoop.

  The door to the café opened up to a diminutive rectangular store. The building’s layout was long but not wide. Not much space for walking. Leather-covered wood stools surrounded five marble café tables, each tabletop with a diameter no bigger than a foot. A pastry counter dominated the space. Lori felt her eyes widen in wonderment.

  The varieties of pastries were too plentiful to be counted. Each choice appearing more delectable than its neighbor. Chocolate cakes, iced cookies, animal-shaped sugar confections, custards in porcelain disks, and almond-covered sticky buns presented themselves in perfect straight lines like tasty soldiers. A tantalizing army. Her feet glided over the old-fashioned, black-and-white tile floor while she moved down the case.

  Indulging in one of these sweets and a café Americano was exactly what she needed. A sugar boost after enduring two endless flights. The first leg of the journey, which went from McCarran International Airport in Las Vegas to New York’s JFK, had been delayed two hours due to heavy fog. The announcement came after passengers boarded the plane. They were forced to sit on the tarmac with their seatbelts on. By the time the relatively short, five-hour flight was finally over, her legs were numb.

  The second airplane ride, traveling from JFK to Barajas International Airport in Madrid, had departed on time. The cramped seating in coach class threatened to trigger claustrophobia. The amount of knots in her shoulder and leg muscles had radically increased from the narrow seating. Several infants wailed the entire journey, almost eight hours long. Most of the flight, she had wanted to wail too.

  She’d taken pity on the babies until one toddler seated behind her leaned forward and grabbed her ponytail. Startled, Lori banged her left elbow into the ribcage of the man next to her. The man jerked, almost landing on top of the flight attendant who was handing out cookies, in a horrific chain reaction. To add insult to injury, the toddler’s mother chastised Lori for overreacting. Deciding not to make a bad situation worse, Lori scrunched herself up in her seat and sealed her eyes shut tighter than the plane’s airlock door. Pretending to sleep calmed the situation down, and no one bothered
her after that. Externally relaxed, her mind remain as turbulent as the bouncing jet.

  She practically bolted off the plane when it landed. In her haste, she forgot her carry-on bag. When the last person filed off the gangway, she had to ask permission to go back on board to retrieve it. She yanked it from the overhead bin, her heart hammering from her near fail. Burdened like a camel with her purse, passports, and carryon luggage, she stepped into Madrid’s airport waiting to clear customs. The timing was poor. Multiple planes had similar arrival times. The line at customs was so long there was ample time for her to fall asleep if she could simultaneously pass out and stand up.

  Lori shoved aside her thoughts about her trip from hell. She was here now, and it was high time to focus on the present. Coffee would help her move on with her day. A much-needed lifeline. As soon as she was done with her snack, she’d walk across the street to Daniel’s hotel and get started with her work. First on her to-do list was introducing herself—actually, reintroducing herself—to Daniel Vega. Once he got past the shock, she’d move on to the second item on her list, which was surveying the hotel property. The third item consisted of her touring the city. Fourth, and most important, was to figure out which features would most attract American tourists. When she was done gathering this information, she’d give a first-hand account to her mother. Her mother would then shift through these different facts and decide on the focus of the publicity campaign.

  Three days in Madrid to get the work done didn’t seem like a lot. Then again, it was possible she would get even less time. Daniel could fire her at first sight.

  Lori shoved her negative thoughts aside again and focused on the scrumptious selections in front of her.