Blaze a Trail (The Flanagan Sisters, #3) Page 3

  He checked his fridge for something to make for dinner. There was a leftover curry from the takeout he’d had the night before, so he put it in the microwave and reheated it. As he sat down at his dining table, he opened the folder he’d put together with the information about Teresa’s case. While he was sure Shelly and Zita were doing everything they could to help Teresa, David wanted to record the details and gather evidence on his own. He worked better if he wrote everything down.

  He jumped as his phone rang. Then he saw the caller ID and smiled. “Zita.”

  “Hi, David. Do you have time to chat?”

  “Yes.” He pushed his meal away.

  “Great. I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”

  “Did you have a good time last night?” He winced. He didn’t know why that was the first question to come out of his mouth.

  She laughed. “Worst blind date ever,” she said. “I’ve forbidden my friend from ever setting me up again.”

  He relaxed. “My friends’ wives are constantly trying to find me someone. Luckily my friends usually head them off. It’s only when I have dinner at their place that I can’t escape.”

  “At least then you’ve got someone else to talk to.” She sighed. “I want to put the date far behind me, so what can I help you with?”

  That’s right. He needed to focus. “How’s Teresa today?”

  “She’s as good as can be expected. She’s more worried about her sister than she is about her own refugee application.”

  “What’s the deal with that? Is her sister in danger?”

  “We’re not certain, but we suspect so. The gang will be angry Teresa escaped, so there’s no telling what they’ll do in retaliation.” Zita sighed. “Fernando spoke with Johanna once, but there was no sign of Teresa’s sister, Manuela.”

  “How old is she?”

  “Twelve. I’m hoping it makes her too young to be prostituted out, but there’s no guarantee.”

  David’s jaw dropped. “Really?”

  “Really.” She sounded sad.

  He thought that kind of stuff only happened in movies. He wanted to cheer her up, but how could he? This was her reality. “Do many of your foster sisters have similar stories?”

  “Teresa’s is the worst I’ve heard in a while.”

  He huffed out a breath. “Is Teresa the only one still waiting for her application to be processed?”

  “No. We’ve got two other girls who are applying for Special Immigration Juvenile status. It would break my heart if they were deported.” Her voice wavered.

  “Will you tell me about them?”

  She sighed. “Beatriz is ten. Her stepfather abused her physically and mentally and she decided she’d be better off alone. She found out Elena was leaving Guatemala and joined her. Elena had been raped by a gang and when she discovered she was pregnant, she knew they would force her to stay with them. She’s due to give birth in a month.”

  David couldn’t fathom what it would be like fleeing your country and having to deal with an unplanned and potentially unwanted pregnancy. “How did they get here?”

  “They walked, hitchhiked, hopped the trains.”

  “Isn’t that dangerous?”

  “Yeah. They call the train The Beast, and so many are killed or severely injured trying to ride it. Then there are the people who monitor the trains and extort money from whoever’s riding them.”

  “And if you’ve got no money?”

  “You can be pushed off. The girls are often sexually assaulted as payment.”

  Coming to the States wasn’t the easy option he’d thought it was.

  “How will you get the rest of Teresa’s family out of El Salvador?” he asked.

  “They can submit an application for asylum, or if Teresa is accepted she can apply on their behalf. The problem is contacting them. Teresa’s father usually answers the phone and we can’t risk telling him. He’s terrified of the gangs and doesn’t want to do anything to upset them further. He’s likely to try and stop us.”

  “And your contact, Fernando, can’t help?”

  “Johanna won’t trust him, and Fernando can’t risk visiting too frequently or the gang will get suspicious.”

  David couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be scared of talking to someone. “Why is the gang issue so bad? Can’t the government do something?”

  “During the civil war, the violence was horrible, and people fled to the United States. They formed gangs here to protect themselves, and then in the nineties they were deported back to El Salvador because they were causing so much trouble. The gangs picked up from where they left off, terrorizing the local people.”

  He didn’t know that. Who was he kidding? He knew nothing about the situation. His father’s voice echoed in his ear. “Don’t believe everything you hear.” He shut it out. Sure, he’d do his research later, but if Zita was lying, she deserved an award. It was tearing her up. “Is there some way I can help?”

  “The biggest problem is that the issue can’t be solved by letting in all the refugees. It has to be stopped in the country — reduce the divide between rich and poor, increase education, stop the corruption in the government and the control of the gangs. Some of the girls want to return home after they’ve got their degrees, but it’s dangerous.” She was silent a moment. “If you want to do something you could support Casa Flanagan, or educate people like your father.”

  “Dad listens to reason. I’m sure he got a lot out of the symposium.” His father liked to bluster and get reactions from people, which gave them the wrong idea.

  “If you say so,” Zita said. “I’ve got to go. If you’ve got any more questions, just call. Do you want to come to Teresa’s other meetings?”

  “Yes, please. I’d like to keep up to date with what’s happening with her family as well.” Now he’d heard their story, he couldn’t forget it.

  “Of course.” She sounded surprised. “I’ll keep in touch.” She hung up.

  David suspected getting involved in the immigration issues was going to be more time consuming than he’d expected, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t in good conscience ignore what he’d learned.

  He got to his feet to reheat his meal. He also wanted to see Zita again. She wasn’t like the women he normally dated. She wasn’t sophisticated, or fashion conscious, or worried about what people thought. She didn’t appear to care who he was, or how much he was worth. She didn’t seem interested in him in that way at all.

  He smiled.

  Hopefully he could change her mind.

  ***

  David walked into the lounge bar on New Year’s Eve and scanned the room for Carly and Evan. It was a gorgeous venue for their engagement party, and aside from the celebration, he was looking forward to seeing Zita again. It had been a few weeks since Teresa’s meeting and he hadn’t heard anything from her.

  The first thing he noticed was that he was in the minority. Most of the room was full of Hispanic women, though there were a few men as well, and the conversation was largely in Spanish. It was the first time he’d ever been conscious of being a white male. It was a strange experience, slightly unsettling.

  Then he saw the tall, strawberry blonde wearing a yellow evening dress that had ruffles like a flamenco dress down the split and showed a lot of leg, and he forgot all about being the odd one out.

  Zita.

  She went over to the bar to order herself a drink, the dress flouncing with her. His groin stirred. The way she moved, confident and completely unaware of her body, was pure seduction. He followed her.

  “Hi, Zita.”

  She smiled at him. “David. Nice to see you.”

  “You look lovely tonight.” That was the understatement of the evening. He brushed his lips over her cheek and was rewarded with a sharp intake of her breath. “How have you been?”

  “Busy,” she said. “Christmas is seriously crazy at Casa Flanagan. Almost all of our foster sisters come home and the house is overflowing with people.�
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  His own Christmas had been at his parents’ mansion with all his cousins, aunts and uncles. They were loud and raucous so he knew what she meant. “That must be nice.”

  Zita took her margarita from the barman and, not wanting her to leave yet, he asked, “Do you want to have a seat?” He gestured to the lounge chairs near them as he ordered a glass of red wine.

  “Sure.”

  He picked up his glass and moved over to the seats, placing the present he’d brought on the table. He didn’t want to talk about her work tonight. “So, were you on Santa’s naughty or nice list this year?

  She chuckled. “The jury’s still out on that.”

  “Is that so? What did you do that was bad?”

  She looked him up and down, her eyes assessing. “If you’re lucky, you might find out.”

  David grinned. “I usually have great luck.”

  “I’m sure you do.” She crossed her legs and the split in her skirt shifted, exposing her thigh in an almost indecent manner.

  If she shifted a little bit more... he shut down that thought. This wasn’t the place to get aroused.

  “Oh, two of my sisters are at the bar.” Zita sat up straight, watching them. “I need to check what they’re ordering. They like to push the limits sometimes.” She stood and smiled at him. “Hopefully I’ll see you later.” She walked off.

  David watched her go, her hips swaying as she walked. He shifted in his seat. He definitely wanted to spend more time with her. He’d seen her fiery, and also empathetic — an unusual combination.

  Across at the bar, Zita said something to her foster sisters, who must have been about sixteen. Their shoulders slumped and they were handed what looked like a cola drink.

  He smiled.

  Spotting Carly and Evan across the room, he set down his glass and wandered over.

  “David!” Carly kissed both of his cheeks and gave him a hug. Evan shook his hand.

  “Congratulations, Carly. I’m happy for you.” Carly had grown from a very shy, uncertain teen, into a powerful and successful businesswoman. She’d been his confidante at too many gala events to count, keeping him sane, letting him make outrageous comments about some of the other attendees, which he daren’t make to anyone else. “This is for you.” Suddenly nervous, he handed her the small gift. Would she even remember?

  “David, the invitation said no presents.”

  “Open it,” he prompted.

  She opened the box and stared at what was inside for a moment, her mouth dropping open. Then she burst out laughing. “You didn’t!”

  Relief flooded his body. She remembered.

  “I’m guessing there’s a story behind this,” Evan said as he picked up the rose-colored glass bowl, which was supposed to be shaped like a flower, but looked disturbingly like a part of the female anatomy.

  “I’d forgotten all about this,” Carly said and turned to Evan. “It was one of my first gala events and the woman who was organizing it was relentless about asking all the guests for more money. We were supposed to leave donations in these bowls, but when it came time to do it, ours was missing. The organizer was most upset.”

  “Was the gala raising money for cervical cancer?”

  David and Carly laughed.

  “I believe it was literacy,” David said.

  Evan shook his head.

  “What are you all laughing about?”

  David turned to the small Hispanic lady who had joined the group. She looked very much like Carly.

  “Mama, David was reminding me of one of my first gala events.” Carly said, “David, this is my mother, Carmen.”

  “I saw you at the symposium. You’re following Teresa’s case, aren’t you?” Carmen asked.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Are you learning much?”

  He nodded. “A lot.”

  “Good. Excuse me, I believe Alejandra needs my help.” She walked toward a teenager holding a baby.

  Carly placed the lid back on the box. “Thank you. I’ll cherish this,” she said. “What’s this about you following Teresa’s case?”

  “I met Zita at the symposium a few weeks back. I wanted to find out more about the refugee situation and she offered to help.”

  Carly looked troubled. “Teresa has been through so much.”

  Evan nodded. “She’s so sweet, and a wonderful artist.”

  “She’s not sure about me,” David admitted. “Though that’s not surprising, considering what she’s been through.”

  “So why the sudden interest?” Carly asked. “We’ve known each other for years and you haven’t asked about it.”

  He shrugged. “We never talked about your charity.” Their conversations revolved around the galas they attended, or business. “The symposium was an eye-opener. Your speech was fantastic.”

  Carly glanced away. “Thank you.”

  “It must be so difficult for Zita to deal with the foster girls every day, and know what they’ve been through.”

  “Mama helps. They both support the girls.”

  He looked around the room. Zita was laughing with her sister Bridget. Her whole face lit up and she looked so happy and carefree. He definitely wanted to get to know her better. Evan cleared his throat and David turned back to them. They were both grinning at him.

  “What?”

  “Are you checking out my little sister, David?”

  He cursed himself as the flush spread across his face. He hadn’t blushed since he was a teenager. “She seems nice.” Hell, this was awkward.

  “You should ask her out,” Carly said. “She needs to find a decent guy.”

  She wouldn’t think he was decent if she could hear his thoughts. “Thanks. I’m going to say hello to Hayden.”

  He escaped before they could tease him anymore.

  ***

  Zita was relieved to walk away from David and resume mingling. His simple kiss on her cheek had played havoc with her senses, and her body had kicked into high alert mode. He’d smelled divine — some kind of musky, masculine aftershave that made her want to keep sniffing him — and the brush of his lips against her skin made her want more. He was the type who had a different woman on his arm at each event, but she was fine with that. Right now she just wanted to have some fun.

  At first she’d thought he’d wanted to ask more questions about Teresa’s case, and was pleased when he didn’t. Tonight she wanted to relax and celebrate. Tonight she wanted to pretend that bad things didn’t happen to good people, and the world was a fair and just place.

  Now it was almost midnight and everyone around her was watching the clock. On other New Year’s Eves she’d be looking for a guy to kiss, but men were in short supply at this event. She hadn’t even seen David for a while so perhaps he’d already gone home. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone moving toward her. She turned as the countdown began.

  Ten.

  Her eyes met David’s and the intensity of his gaze stirred her.

  Nine.

  She couldn’t look away.

  Eight.

  Her body zapped to attention as he strode toward her. His movements were long and languid, and sexy.

  Seven.

  The countdown faded into the background as she licked her lips.

  David stopped in front of her, his gaze still on her.

  “Happy New Year!” The shout went up around her, but she barely noticed it.

  “Happy New Year, Zita,” he said.

  She didn’t hesitate. She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought her lips to his.

  Instant heat.

  She’d meant to keep it light, but the moment their lips met, she sank into him, deepening the kiss. He tasted like wine and more. His hands slid over her waist to her lower back as he pulled her closer. Zita moaned in appreciation. This man could kiss.

  Suddenly a wolf whistle split the air, piercing her consciousness and she broke away. Around her people were watching and clapping.

  “Feck,” sh
e muttered. She glanced up to a smug-looking David and said, “Happy New Year.”

  “I’ll say,” he said with a smile.

  “Show’s over, folks,” she said and everyone returned to what they were doing. “Sorry. I got carried away.” Now her brain was kicking back into gear she realized he’d probably only come over to wish her well and she’d forced herself on him. How embarrassing.

  “I’m not.” He took her hand and led her into the corner. “Want to get carried away again?” His wicked grin sent her hormones into overdrive.

  “Yes.” She stepped forward, but her mother’s laugh from somewhere nearby was like a bucket of cold water being thrown over her. She stopped David with a hand on his chest as she searched the room and found her mother only a few feet away, keeping half an eye on them.

  David followed her gaze. “Ah, your mother.”

  She nodded. “Let’s take a rain check.”

  “How about dinner? Next Friday.”

  A little thrill spread through Zita. “Sure.”

  “I’ll make a booking and give you a call with details.” He glanced toward Carmen who was still watching them. “I should probably go.”

  She walked him to the exit. “I’ll talk to you later.” She brushed her lips against his one last time.

  “Happy New Year.” He walked out.

  Zita let out a long breath. It certainly seemed like it was going to be a great new year.

  Chapter 3

  Everyone slept late on New Year’s Day. Everyone, that is, except Julio, Alejandra’s four-month-old baby, who started crying at about five in the morning. Zita woke and listened to Alejandra trying to quiet him. It wasn’t working, and one of the other girls yelled in Spanish, “Take him downstairs.”

  There was likely to be an all-out argument if Alejandra didn’t and Zita was too tired for that. With a groan, she got up and padded across the hallway to Alejandra’s room. “Do you want me to take him?”

  Alejandra was pacing the floor with Julio, looking stressed. The relief on her face was obvious. “He’s been fed, but he won’t settle. Tiana doesn’t understand.” She glared toward Tiana’s bedroom.