Jessica Russo knows nothing about her mother's family or her Cuban culture. Every time she's asked about it, her mother has shut down. But when the Cuban grandmother she's never met sends her right-hand man, Luis, to offer Jessica the chance to come to Miami and meet her estranged family, she can't help but say yes, even as she knows it will pain her mother.
The woman that Jessica meets is nothing like what she expected. Her grandmother is successful, intelligent, determined, and all too willing to take blame for what has happened to cause the estrangement, and, more importantly, to try and set things right. As Jessica spends time with her grandmother in her beautiful island home, she learns about her family's history and what caused the schism between her mother and grandmother.
As days with her grandmother turn to weeks, Jessica is determined to find a way to heal her fractured family. And in the end, Jessica might just learn something about herself and what it means to embrace the many facets of her identity.
Read an excerpt:
Sandy seemed a little agitated as she jerked a finger in the direction of the customer area. “There’s a man here to see you.”
Puzzled, Jessica tried to remember if she’d scheduled any appointments for that afternoon, but as far as she knew, she hadn’t. “Did you get his name?” she asked.
Sandy fidgeted from one foot to the next and wrung her hands together. “He wouldn’t give it. He just insisted that I get you. ‘For a private matter,’” Sandy advised, emphasizing the man’s words with air quotes.
Weird, Jessica thought. She kept private things to her small circle of close friends and her immense Italian family. Of course, once family got involved, there was no such thing as private.
“Does he seem like trouble?” Jessica asked as she yanked off the nitrile gloves with a snap, grabbed her phone, and opened the security camera app for a glimpse of the unexpected visitor. Flipping to the view of the storefront, she shifted the camera until she could get a good look at him.
Trouble, all right, but not in a criminal kind of way. He had the kind of looks and confidence that said he could be difficult.
Her visitor was dressed in a light-colored suit that hugged broad shoulders and lean hips. Dark hair topped a handsome face and he looked none too pleased at having to wait. He moved with nervous energy from one piece of furniture to the next, skimming his fingers across the surfaces before he whirled, stared straight at the camera, and jammed his hands in his pockets.
With a chuckle, Jessica said, “No worries. I can handle him.” After all, she was used to dealing with the high-powered and sometimes egotistical financial types that came into her shop.
She slipped the smartphone into the front pocket of her overalls and hurried into the store, annoyed that her work had been interrupted and feeling decidedly grungy in her paint- and stain-splattered overalls and ripped T-shirt. She liked to be at her best when seeing prospective customers, and this man had placed her at a decided disadvantage. He was well-heeled and clearly well-off.
The linen suit was obviously bespoke and perfectly fitted to his lean body, but lightweight for a chilly New York City spring day. A hint of a shirt in pastel pink peeked out from beneath the collar. Gold glinted on one wrist and a big and expensive wristwatch wrapped around his other.
“How can I help you?” she said as she approached him. He stood staring at a combo bar/console against one wall of her store’s showroom.
He turned and met her gaze full-on. His eyes were a dark hazel shot through with strands of green and gold in a face far more handsome than it had looked on her smartphone screen. Sharply chiseled features were softened by full lips and long, thick lashes. His dark hair was closer to black than brown with bed-tousled waves.
“Jessica Russo, I presume?” It was impossible to miss the hint of annoyance in his tone as well as a slight singsong that said he wasn’t a New Yorker.
“I am. How can I help you?” she repeated, eager to get back to work.
He stepped closer, forcing her to look up, thanks to his much greater height. He had nearly a foot on her and the proximity to so much masculinity was surprisingly disconcerting.
She gave him props for sensing that she was uncomfortable and taking a step away. “I came to speak to you about your grandmother.”
Fear replaced her earlier emotions. She laid a hand across her stomach to quell the distress and also her confusion. Her grandmother Russo was relatively young, so he had to be referring to her ninety-three-year-old great-grandmother, who insisted on living alone in her own home. But nothing about this man said “cop,” so she tempered her concerns that he might be there with bad news. “Is Bisnonna Russo okay? Nothing’s happened, right?” she asked.
His full lips thinned into a knife-sharp line, and irritation blossomed in his eyes. “I’m here about your abuela Gonzalez and to ask for a favor.”
The fright she had experienced just moments earlier fled and a maelstrom of emotions filled that vacuum. They swirled together as powerfully as a Category 5 hurricane.
“My mother’s mother?” she asked, confusion and surprise taking control of her emotions.
He dipped his head regally. “Yes, your Gonzalez grandmother. And as I said, I’m here to ask a favor,” he explained in calm tones, but Jessica was feeling anything but calm.
“For yourself or for her?” she challenged, a growing spiral of anger twisting into the emotional storm within her. Whenever she had asked about her maternal grandparents, her mother’s gaze would cloud with pain, warning her that it was a topic not to be discussed.
“For her and hopefully for you as well,” he urged, his tone persuasive but unconvincing.
“I think I’ve been doing just fine for myself the last twenty-eight years,” she shot back. Her mother’s Miami family had never been a part of her life, and as far as she was concerned, it could stay that way. Giving in to the request was bound to cause hurt for everyone involved.
He seemed chastened by her statement and tried a different tack. “Your grandmother loves you and your mother very much. It’s why she sent me here to ask you to visit with her.”
She crossed her arms and tilted her head up a determined inch. “Funny way to show her love, considering she hasn’t been around for all of my life. And I’m too busy to leave the shop right now.”
He peered around the empty store in obvious disbelief. “Doesn’t seem too busy to me.”
“It’s a weekday and the middle of the afternoon,” she said and then shook her head. “You know, I don’t need to explain anything to you. And who are you, anyway?”
He reached into his inside jacket pocket and took out a business card that he presented to her. The cardstock weight was heavy, and the card had his name embossed in bold gold. Not a cheap online business card by any means. “I’m Luis Torres, President of Guerreiro Enterprises, but more importantly, I’m a man who owes a great deal to a woman who wants to meet her granddaughter before…let’s just say it’s time to set things to right.”
He hadn’t said it, but the reason for the request hung there like a great big softball waiting to be hit out of the park. It’s time to set things to right before time ran out and she died.
Before Jessica could say anything, he reached out and laid a hand over hers, the gesture meant to reassure. He squeezed her hand gently and said, “I know this has probably come as a shock—”
“Says the Master of Understatement,” she parried, but without sting because she sensed the sincerity in his request.
With a dip of his head, he continued. “I understand. All I’m asking is that you think about it. For an old woman who doesn’t want to end her life without knowing her granddaughter. Por favor,” he said, his gaze teeming with emotion. The tone of his voice was filled with concern and not just for the grandmother she had never met.
Somehow, she sensed that he wasn’t the kind of man used to asking, and that made his request all the more powerful. But it wasn’t enough to alleviate the worry she had about meeting a woman who had apparently driven her daughter from her Miami home and never made any effort to end the rift between them.
“I appreciate how important this is to you,” she said.
“To her, Jessica. This is very important to her. To you as well. Before it’s too late to make things right,” he said, once again strumming her heart strings and rousing compassion. But she had to protect her own heart and her mother’s as well.
Because of that, all she could say was “I’ll think about it, Mr. Torres.”
He squeezed her hand gently again and said, “Luis, por favor. And thank you. I know this can’t be an easy decision for you to make.”
“It isn’t…Luis.” She held up his business card and said, “Can I reach you at this number?”
He nodded. “I’ll be at the Mandarin Oriental all week.”
“Try the veal,” she quipped, but he just stared at her as if he didn’t understand the old joke, so she charged on. “I’ll call as soon as I can.”
“I’d appreciate that,” he said, leaned down, and brushed a quick kiss across her cheek.
Before she could protest the gesture, he turned and hurried from her shop, leaving her to ponder what to do about his request.
At a slight noise behind her, she whirled to find Sandy returning to the showroom. “I guess he wasn’t trouble after all,” Sandy said with a smirk.
She blew out a harsh breath and shook her head. “That remains to be seen,” she replied and headed back toward her workroom. Work always made her feel better and let her clear her mind of anything that bothered her. Luis Torres and his request definitely bothered her, only she wasn’t sure she had enough projects to work on to restore peace to her world.
Caridad Pineiro is a transplanted Long Island girl who has fallen in love with the Jersey Shore. When Caridad isn’t taking long strolls along the boardwalk, she’s also a NY Times and USA Today bestselling author with over a million romance novels sold worldwide. Caridad is passionate about writing and helping others explore and develop their skills as writers. She is a founding member of the Liberty States Fiction Writers and has presented workshops at the RT Book Club Convention, Romance Writers of America National Conference as well as various writing organizations throughout the country. You can connect with Caridad at www.caridad.com.
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Thanks so much for sharing!
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