Nacho Figueras Presents (3 page)

E
nzo looked over the crowd in the nightclub and was grateful he had a good suit.

It was a relic of his past life. Custom made on Savile Row. Hand-crafted, bespoke. It was tailored to fit him perfectly, and though he'd worn it for almost two decades, it looked as good on him now as it had when he'd first bought it.

There weren't many things that Enzo had taken with him when he'd left his old life behind, but he'd never been sorry that this suit was one of them.

As always, his eyes skimmed the glittering mass of partygoers, unimpressed by the wealth and celebrity, searching the room for the only one who mattered.

There she was. Standing alone at the end of the bar, wearing a white suit that plunged in the front in a way that made his breath catch, nursing her usual Jameson and water, easily the most beautiful woman in the room. She looked bored, oblivious, as always, to the stares and attention she was drawing from every corner.

Enzo frowned as he watched a handsome pop star, recently made notorious for an enormously revealing wardrobe malfunction at one of his concerts, approach Antonia. The singer smiled at her, leaning in much too close, and whispered in her ear.

Noni's face stayed coolly neutral. She took a sip of her drink, then answered him without even meeting his eyes. Whatever she said made the man's face wash over in an angry pink before he turned and walked stiffly away.

Enzo grinned. God, she could be as cool as ice, his Antonia.

She looked up, spotted him, and her face lit up. She wrinkled her nose impatiently, gesturing for him to stop hanging around in the doorway and to come join her. By the time he crossed the floor, she had procured his usual Grey Goose and soda, which she handed to him with a double kiss of greeting.

“Feeling better?” she asked him.

He took a sip of his drink. “I will be in a moment.”

“I love it when you wear this suit,” she said, casually adjusting his tie and then running her fingertips down his lapel. “Gives me a Javier Bardem vibe.”

Enzo swallowed and took a step back. He should be used to her careless touches by now. She was affectionate with him in the same way she was affectionate with her brothers, constantly adjusting their clothing, brushing off imaginary flecks of lint, touching a hand or a shoulder when she wanted to make a point, but try as he might, he was never immune. The simplest contact made him ache for more.

“
Gracias, niña
,” he said, breathing in her unique, spicy scent and trying not to be too obvious about his sudden, overwhelming desire to crush her body to his.

She rolled her eyes. “For God's sake, Enzo, I'm nearly thirty. When are you going stop calling me
niña
?”

He laughed, relaxing into their customary banter. “Never,” he said. He leaned against the bar. “Anyone good here tonight?”

She shrugged. “The usual crowd. Rich, beautiful, famous. Sometimes all three at once.”

“I saw you send Dax Lewis packing,” he said. “What did you say to make him look so unhappy?”

She frowned. “That was Dax Lewis? I thought he was one of Sebastian's old drinking buddies.”

Enzo laughed. “Well, I suppose there's a good chance he is, actually.”

They stood side by side for a moment, sipping their drinks and watching the crowd.

Enzo saw Pilar Del Campo enter, followed by Sebastian and Alejandro with their wives on their arms. All three women were wearing jewels so large—a choker for Pilar, a pair of dangling earrings for Kat, a bracelet for Georgia, who was heavily pregnant again—that Enzo could see them glittering from across the room. Half the women in the club turned to look at the handsome brothers, and not a few men hungrily eyed their beautiful wives.

Lord Henderson hurried over to greet them, kissing all the women hello and then taking Pilar by the arm and leading her into the crowd. There was something proprietary about the way he shepherded her that made Enzo pause for a moment and take a second look.

“Huh. Hendy and Pilar,” said Antonia, echoing his thoughts. “That's new.”

Enzo watched the dapper older man as he slid his hand to the small of Pilar's back.

You sly old dog
, he thought, and smiled. “I like them together,” he said. “That should have happened ages ago.”

Noni shrugged. “Well, good luck to Hendy, anyway,” she said, wryly toasting the couple before taking another sip of her drink.

Enzo turned to her, mildly exasperated. He understood how Antonia felt about Pilar, but he wished the two women could find a way to bury the hatchet. They were more alike than either would ever admit.

“Is that what made you so mad this afternoon?” he asked. “Another run-in with Pilar?”

Noni flushed and buried her face in her drink. “It was nothing,” she murmured; then she looked up at him sharply. “How did you know about that, anyway?”

It was Enzo's turn to look away. “I noticed that you seemed upset as you were leaving.”

He could feel Antonia's questioning eyes on him as he resolutely kept his gaze on the dance floor.

“You notice a lot,” she finally said.

“Well, you stomped off the pitch and then drove away from the farm like a bat out of hell,” he said. “Hard not to notice.”

She snorted. “I did not. I was maybe doing twenty-five.”

“You're supposed to do fifteen. What if you hit a horse?”

She threw her hand up, laughing. “No one does fifteen. You never do fifteen! And how am I going to hit a horse? Give me a break.”

Enzo opened his mouth to argue further but was interrupted by Hendy, who had commandeered the DJ booth, Pilar by his side.

“Hello?” Hendy said into the microphone. “Hello? Hello?”

The room quieted as people turned their attention toward their host.

“Ah, yes,” said Hendy in his posh British accent, “um, well, I just wanted to say welcome to you all. And thank you very much for attending.”

A few people shouted “thank you” back at him.

He nodded in return. “Yes, you're very welcome, of course. My pleasure, you know, so happy to see everyone here celebrating what was a most excellent and winning season…um…”

He trailed off for a moment, and Pilar reached out and took his hand. He smiled at her gratefully and took a deep breath.

“So, since you're all here anyway, I have something of an announcement to make…”

The crowd got even quieter. Enzo glanced at Noni, who looked concerned.

“I'm afraid that this party isn't just an end-of-the-season gala. It's actually a retirement celebration as well. Because, uh, I am quite sad to announce, this polo season has turned out to be my last on the pitch.”

There was an audible gasp from the audience. Enzo looked over at the Del Campo family, who looked somber but not surprised.

“Did you know?” he whispered to Antonia.

She shook her head in return.

Hendy cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I know I have always said they would have to carry me off the field, but, unfortunately, my doctors seem to feel that is exactly what will happen if I continue to play. The old knee simply won't take it any longer. So, I thought it best to spare you all the sight of me limping about and just go out on one last, winning season.”

He smiled shakily, and his voice grew deep with emotion.

“I don't want anyone feeling sorry for me. I have, of course, been a lucky, lucky man to have been able to play the game I love for all these years. And I have been particularly lucky in this last decade to have played on the Del Campo family team, La Victoria.”

He stopped for a moment and cleared his throat.

“To put it plainly, it has been the most extraordinary part of my rather extraordinary life. I have had the chance to be on the field with the kind of world-class players that only come along once every few generations. I've also had the extreme good fortune of calling these men my friends. Alejandro, Sebastian, Rory”—he raised his glass to his teammates—“I thank you so much for putting up with this old man all these years. Truly, it has been an honor and a privilege.”

His teammates solemnly raised their glasses in return.

Hendy quickly dashed the tears from his eyes. “And don't think you'll be rid of me altogether! I shall, of course, stay on as patron, if you'll still have me.”

“As long as you wish, my friend,” said Alejandro. “We would not be the team we are today without you.”

“To Hendy!” called out Sebastian. “Hip hip!”

“HOORAY!” the entire room called in response.

Just as Enzo raised his glass, Antonia put down hers and rushed out of the room.

Antonia had veered into the alley behind the nightclub, desperate to get away from all the curious glances on the busy sidewalk, when Enzo caught up with her.

“Noni?” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

She wiped the tears from her eyes, embarrassed to be caught crying. “I'm okay,” she said, turning away from him.

“
Niña
,” he said, “I know you love Hendy—we all do—but it's just retirement. He will be fine.”

“It's not that,” she said. “I mean, I'm sad for Hendy. I know it will be hard on him not to play, but…” She trailed off.

He kept his hand on her shoulder. “What, then?”

She kept her face averted. “It's nothing. It's silly. I probably had too much to drink.”

He smiled at her. “What, your two sips of whiskey and water? I've seen you slam back six shots of Patrón and stay standing.”

She shook her head. “I just…I had these stupid plans. I thought I would…” She stopped herself. She didn't want to talk about it. She felt like a fool.

He slid his hand down her arm and covered her hand in his. “You thought you would what,
querida
?”

His fingers were so warm wrapped around hers. She looked up and saw real concern in his soft brown eyes. “I just hoped that maybe tonight would be different,” she whispered.

“How so?”

“It's just…they all knew.”

“Who knew what? I don't understand.”

“The Del Campos. The family. And the team. All of them. They already knew what Hendy was going to say.”

“Yes, so?”

“So?” She shrugged, miserable. “So, no one told me.”

He shook his head. “I still don't—”

“It's just proof, once again, that I'm not really part of the family.”

He blinked, confused. “Of course you are part of the family. You're a Del Campo, aren't you?”

She dropped his hand and stepped away from him. “That's the point. I'm not a Del Campo.” Her voice slightly trembled. “I'm a Black. And they never let me forget it.”

He reached for her, pulling her back toward him. “
Niña
, why do you need this so much?”

She sighed and leaned against him, taking in his clean, musky scent. “Did I ever tell you about how I first learned to ride?”

He shook his head. “I don't think so.”

She wiped her eyes. “You know that my mom and I never stayed in one place for very long when I was a kid, right? We were always moving. Usually in the middle of the night to avoid paying back rent. But for six months, when I was ten, we stayed in this tiny adobe house in New Mexico.”

He nodded, and she felt him slightly tighten his grip on her.

“I loved all sorts of things about that house. It was small—only two bedrooms—and snug. It had a red clay roof, and beautiful bright blue tiled floors, and an old claw-foot bathtub so deep I felt like I could swim in it, and the window in my room looked out over the hills. At night, the breeze would come in from the desert and it smelled like sage, and warm sand, and the enormous hedge of rosemary that grew out back.”

“
Qúe paz
,” he said.

She nodded and smiled. “It was.” Without thinking, she settled in a little closer to him. “Anyway, what I loved most of all was that just down the road, there was an enormous ranch. And they kept horses. A whole herd of scraggly, half-wild little mustangs that were basically allowed to roam free from sunup to sundown, feeding on scrub brush. In fact, I don't think I ever saw them get called in. I used to go down there every day after school. My mom was always either painting—that was her ‘red period' as she called it—and didn't want to be disturbed, or sleeping, because she was usually out all night.”

“She left you alone?” said Enzo. “But you were so young. Weren't you scared?”

She shrugged. “I was used to it. Anyway, I'd always bring some carrots or an apple to the ponies, and at first I'd just stand at the fence, hoping the horses would come to me, but they were skittish, you know? I couldn't get them to trust me, so I'd throw the food over the fence and watch them eat from afar. But one day, this little black and white spotted mare came up close enough to grab a carrot and run, and then after that she came back for an apple.”

Enzo smiled. “The smartest one, eh?”

Noni nodded solemnly. “She was, for sure. So I fed her every day for about a week, and pretty soon she was letting me pet her and scratch her, and then, not long after that, she'd actually come running every time she saw me walking down the road.”

Enzo smoothed a lock of hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. It immediately slipped back.

Antonia smiled, remembering.

“I'd never had anything that…needed me like that, you know? My mom had a life of her own that had nothing to do with me—her art, the men. I couldn't have any pets because we moved around so much, and I never really made any friends because I never lived anywhere long enough to get over how shy I was. This little horse, I felt like she had singled me out. She made me feel special. Maybe for the first time in my life…”