Master Of El Corazon. Sandra Marton
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there. The slot was empty.
Arden swung around in a circle. Had she forgotten where she’d parked it? It didn’t seem likely, but anything was possible on a morning like this. The lot wasn’t very big; she would be able to see the car in an instant and—
It wasn’t anywhere to be seen. The chill came again, this time sending a shudder through her bones. Don’t bother showing up at work, Lithgow had said, and this morning she’d had to pay for her breakfast—a breakfast that should have gone on the company tab—and now her company-supplied car was missing. It took no great stretch of the imagination to realise what had happened.
Lithgow had already eliminated her as an employee. He’d taken back all the perks of her job.
Arden’s eyes narrowed. Was he really so sure of himself? Well, he was in for a big surprise.
‘Get ready, Mr Lithgow,’ she muttered under her breath, ‘because you’re not going to get away with this!’
Without a car, what should have been a few minutes’ trip to work became a half-hour walk. It was a hot morning and Arden felt sweaty and dishevelled by the time she reached her office. She longed to stop in the ladies’ room to splash cool water on her face, touch up her make-up and fix her hair, but the line between giving Edgar Lithgow enough time to build up a sense of false security and losing the edge she wanted was a narrow one.
It was better to confront him right away, she thought, pushing open the door to his outer office...
She stopped dead in her tracks. Julie Squires was sitting at Arden’s desk. The s.o.b. had certainly moved fast, she thought grimly, and made her way quickly across the room.
‘I want to see Mr Lithgow,’ she said.
Julie shifted in her chair. ‘I’m afraid he’s not here.’
Arden’s brows lifted. ‘Really,’ she said coldly.
‘It’s the truth, honest!’
Arden folded her arms. ‘No problem,’ she said. ‘I’ll wait.’
‘But he won’t be back for a couple of days,’ Julie said, looking as if she’d rather be anywhere than here.
‘Listen,’ Arden said tautly, ‘I’ve sat in that seat, remember?’
‘I don’t know what you—’
‘I’ve smiled just as politely as you and lied through my teeth so I could turn away unwanted visitors for that man!’
The other girl shook her head. ‘I’m telling you the truth! Mr Lithgow was called out of town on urgent business.’
‘What urgent business?’
‘I don’t know. He didn’t—’
‘When will he be back?’
Julie shrugged. ‘I don’t—’
‘I have to see him, Julie,’ Arden said urgently. ‘You’ve got to tell me where he is!’
‘I swear, I don’t know.’ The girl looked around, then leaned forward over her desk. ‘What happened?’ she whispered. ‘I was shocked—we all were—when Lithgow announced he’d had to fire you.’
‘Is that what he said?’
‘Uh huh. He left something for you. I was supposed to send it over to the hotel, along with your things, but since you’re here...’ Julie took an envelope from her desk. ‘There’s a cheque in it,’ she said. Her eyes seemed to narrow just a bit and that same damned smile, the one Arden had seen on the faces of the chambermaid and the waiter, bloomed on her lips. ‘It’s for a lot of money. And he drew it on his own account, not the company’s.’
Arden felt a flush rise in her cheeks. ‘You certainly know a lot about it.’
The girl shrugged. ‘He wrote the cheque while I was standing at his desk. I couldn’t help but see it, could I?’
Arden ripped the envelope open without ceremony, pulled out the cheque, and stared at it. It looked as if Edgar Lithgow had decided not to count on intimidation alone to keep her silent. The cheque was for twenty-five thousand dollars.
Julie cleared her throat. ‘See what I mean?’
The women’s eyes met. ‘Yes,’ Arden said carefully, ‘I do.’ With slow, deliberate movements, she tore the cheque in half and went on tearing it until it had been reduced to white confetti, then let it fall like snowflakes over the desk. ‘Tell Mr Lithgow he can stuff that wherever he likes,’ she said, trying to keep her voice from trembling, and she turned sharply and strode from the room.
By the time she’d gone a block, she was calling herself all kinds of fool.
What had it got her, that stupid bit of drama? She had destroyed Lithgow’s cheque, but damn it, to what end? She should have kept it and...
No. She could never have done that. But she could have cashed it and kept at least enough money to get her home. One of the great benefits of this job had been that her room and board were all paid for and so she’d sent most of her pay home. Her mother had been ill last year and Arden had been slowly whittling down the medical bills.
Wait a minute! Her steps slowed. The company owed her severance pay, if nothing else, and a return ticket home. She could go back and demand them...
But what was the point? Lithgow would have to approve such arrangements, and he had conveniently vanished. Well, he couldn’t stay away forever. A few days, Julie had said. Arden’s shoulders straightened. All right, then. She had enough money to keep going that long. The minute he returned, she’d confront him, demand that he issue a cheque for the severance pay due her and meet his other obligations to her, too, including paying her air fare back to the States.
It was the least he owed her.
The days passed, but Lithgow didn’t turn up. His trip had taken him deep into new markets in South America, Julie said when Arden telephoned the office the third time late one afternoon, and he wasn’t expected back for several weeks.
Arden thanked her, hung up the phone, and put her head in her hands.
Now what? She couldn’t take another job, even if she could find one, not without a work permit. There was always the American Embassy, but the thought of telling her story to a bureaucrat who was probably another aristo-bastard like Lithgow was more than she could bear.
And even if he weren’t of Lithgow’s class, he might still give her that same damning look the stranger had. There were even nights she dreamed of the way those green eyes had narrowed with contempt at the sight of her, although why she should was beyond her to understand. She certainly didn’t give one fig for the man or for what he’d thought of her...
There was a knock at the door. Arden stood up slowly and smoothed down her skirt. She’d half expected a visit tonight. Senor Arondo had left her a curt note earlier, reminding her that she had not yet settled her bill for the past week.
She steeled herself, then walked to the door and opened it. But it wasn’t the manager who stood in the corridor, it was Alejandro, the bellboy, and he was carrying a covered tray.
Arden breathed a sigh of relief.
‘Alejandro,’ she said, ‘you’ve made an error. I didn’t order—’
‘Buenos noches, señorita.’ The boy flashed her a quick smile. ‘Your supper.’
If only it were her supper. She wasn’t in the mood to go out to eat tonight, but she’d given up ordering room service—it was too expensive. In fact, she’d given up eating in the hotel. The last couple of days, she’d found it much more economical to take her meals at a little shop around the corner.
‘I’m afraid not,’ Arden said. ‘That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Alejandro. I didn’t—’
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