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registry at Michael C. Fina that had not been canceled. Cara’s mouth had just dropped open at the sight of a set of sterling silver napkin rings that cost a thousand dollars when she was startled by a knock at the door.
    “Hello?” Victor entered her office. “Need to cancel already?”
    “No, not at all.” She glanced at the clock. She should have been at the elevator by now. “I’m sorry. I lost track of time.”
    “You sure? When I saw you with your phone I thought maybe your son was sick. How’s he doing, by the way?”
    Cara picked up her purse and slid her phone inside, then stood from her chair to follow Victor out. “He’s doing very well. Thanks for asking. You’d never know he was sick now.”
    Victor chuckled. “They recover quickly at that age, yes?”
    “Yes.” She followed him to the elevator, her purse slung over her shoulder. “A little too quickly, in fact. He’s still supposed to rest but we can’t get him to sit still.”

Chapter Six
     
    Cara and Victor chatted as they walked, making them both feel more at ease. There was no other subject that got Cara talking more than Isaac, and Victor was quite happy to continue asking questions. Not only was he amused by the precocious young boy, but he loved to hear Cara speak. This was the closest they had had to a real conversation since they first met, and it was just now that Victor began to realize how much he enjoyed Cara’s voice caressing his ears.
    Soon they were sitting at the last small table at his favorite deli. With the bustle of people all around them, Victor took the opportunity to scoot his chair closer so they could talk without raising their voices over the noise. Or at least, that’s what he’d have her believe.
    There was a question that he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Each time it seemed there was an opportunity to slip it into the conversation, he stopped.
    What’s the situation with Isaac’s father?
    Hell, it was probably considered a personal question that could get Victor in trouble for violating an employment law. But he was dying to know.
    After about a minute of eating in silence, Cara gently dropped her fork to her plate. “With all due respect, Mr. Barboza, I need to ask. Am I a charity case to you?”
    Victor wiped his mouth and finished chewing. “Well, that’s quite a subject change.”
    “Please, I need to know. I already took the job and I plan to stay. But you could at least tell me the truth now. Did you hire me out of pity?”
    Victor shook his head and put his elbows on the table. “Let’s get a few things straight.” He cleared his throat. “First, you don’t need to be so formal with me. I’m only a few years older than you. Please, call me Victor.”
    “But Gary doesn’t—”
    “I know, and I tried to get him to call me by my first name too but he said it didn’t feel professional, being that he’s my assistant. So, I got used to it. I’d prefer not to get used to it with you.” He smiled. “And second, you’re not a charity case. You’re obviously a strong woman and I most certainly did not hire you out of pity. When I was twelve, my mother moved me and my brothers from Guadalajara to a small town in Texas, outside San Antonio. It was a little ranch town, and we’d been asked to live there if we’d work on his ranch.” He let out a friendly chuckle. “It may have been a legal gray area for the ranch owner to have three kids and their mother living there, working for room and board. But it was a hell of a lot better than what we were used to. That man became like a father to me and my brothers. He paid our way through college. I wouldn’t be where I am today without his act of kindness.”
    “Why did he do that?”
    “Believe it or not, it was because of my little brother, Armando. The man, Henry Platt, said my brother was nice to him when he’d gotten lost one day, doing some kind of business deal in the town where we lived. He never forgot about it, even after he